The Crimson Campaign

“You know,” the old general said, “with Tamas gone, powder mages don’t have any pull anymore. Some of the ranking officers seem to want to pretend you never existed.”

Taniel leaned his head back and looked up at the darkening sky. Some stars were beginning to show, and the moon glowed bright on the eastern horizon. “Do you believe he’s dead?”

Hilanska began to walk, forcing Taniel to follow him on wobbly legs. Taniel’s hands were shaking a little less, now.

“I don’t want to believe it,” Hilanska said. “None of us do, despite how the others are acting. We all loved your father. He was a brilliant strategist. But all contact was lost. We haven’t heard from any of our spies in the Kez army for three weeks now. We have to face the facts. Tamas is likely dead.”

If Tamas was dead, so were Vlora and Sabon and the rest of the powder cabal and the Seventh and Ninth. Taniel felt his chest tighten. No tears. There wouldn’t be any of those. Not for Tamas. But for him to be gone forever…“And Kresimir?”

“Whatever you did to him, he survived it.”

“What of this Mihali? This god-chef?”

Hilanska shrugged. “Your father seemed to think he was Adom reborn.”

“And you?”

“I don’t have any evidence either way. His cooking is amazing. Supposedly, he and Kresimir have some kind of a truce. Something about letting the mortals fight it out.” Hilanska spit out of the corner of his mouth. “I don’t like the idea that we’re being used in some kind of cosmic battle.”

“No,” Taniel said. “Neither do I.” His head was starting to clear. Things weren’t spinning anymore. “What can Ket do to me?”

“She’s a general. You’re a captain. A roomful of people just watched you try to kill her.”

“I wouldn’t have killed her. And I’m not just a captain. I’m a powder mage.”

Hilanska said, “I know. Tamas kept you outside the rank system. If he was still here, you would have gotten away with it. Ket is a good general, but she has a narrow vision of things. Tamas knew that. You’re just a captain now, though.”

“Who has been ordering the retreats along the front?”

Hilanska stopped and turned toward Taniel. “I have.”

“You?” Taniel had to keep himself from stepping back.

Hilanska set his hand on Taniel’s shoulder, as a father might to his son. “We can’t hold them,” Hilanska said. “Up until you arrived, we had no answer to those Black Wardens. They just cut right through the infantry like nothing I’ve ever seen. They’re faster and stronger than regular Wardens, and powder won’t ignite near them. Even with you here, we can’t hold the line.”

“What about sorcery? The Wings have Privileged.”

“Sorcery doesn’t do a thing to the new Wardens. It’s baffling, really. I can’t imagine that the Kez Cabal would create something they might not be able to control.”

Taniel mulled over that for a moment. His brain was starting to work again. That seemed a good sign. The rage was becoming a distant memory. “Maybe they didn’t create them.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, we’ve never seen a Warden created out of a powder mage before. Maybe Kresimir did that. Maybe the remnants of the Kez Cabal have no say.”

“It makes sense.” Hilanska watched him for a few moments. “Where are you sleeping?”

Taniel looked up to the side of the mountain. “Have a tent set up there.”

“I’ll get you a real room,” Hilanska said. “You need some sleep. Come find me in an hour, and I’ll have something arranged. Now, though, I need to try to convince Ket not to have you hanged.”

Taniel’s heart had finally stopped pounding. He felt deflated, ill. “Thank you. General?”

Hilanska paused and looked back.

“I’ve been turned down for more powder by a dozen different quartermasters. They claim we don’t have enough black powder and the General Staff is rationing it. Is there really a shortage?” Taniel thought back to Ricard Tumblar. The union boss had mentioned something about the supply demands from the front being unusually high.

“It’s not as bad as all that,” Hilanska said quietly. “I’ll make sure you get what you need. Anything else?”

“Yes.” Taniel hesitated, not sure if he wanted to know the answer to his next question. “Are there any powder mages left in Adopest? I know Tamas was training some new ones.”

“They all went with him. Even the trainees.”

“Pit. I’d hoped that Sabon was still here somewhere.”

Hilanska’s face fell and he let out a soft sigh. “You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Sabon’s dead, my boy. Took a bullet from an air rifle to the side of the head over a month ago.”

Hilanska patted Taniel on the shoulder and headed off into the night.

It was several moments before Taniel could manage to take another deep, shaky breath. He looked at the sky again. The daylight was only a sliver on the western mountains now; the sky above, a blanket of brilliant stars on dark blue.

Sabon, dead. His mentor. His teacher.

That had to have shaken Tamas. Perhaps enough that Tamas had made mistakes.

If Sabon was dead, then maybe Tamas was as well.