‘I know. I know that. Which is why I talked the Old Man down, and found you a staff position that allowed you to retain your rank and privileges. No direct command, I know, but that may come in time.’
‘If I behave myself,’ rumbled Van Voytz.
‘Feth’s sake, it could have been an outworld command for you. The arse-end of everywhere. Or a penal regiment. I covered your back because I know you’re a fine officer. Don’t piss on that respect. What took place in the command chamber–’
‘You don’t have to explain yourself, Ibram,’ Van Voytz said with a long sigh.
‘I don’t. And I won’t,’ said Gaunt. ‘I drew you aside to tell you that I don’t have to explain myself. Do we have an understanding?’
Van Voytz nodded. He saw the look in Gaunt’s eyes, steel-cold eyes that Van Voytz’s orders had cursed Gaunt with a long time before.
He straightened up and saluted.
‘We do, my lord,’ he said.
Gaunt looked back at the hatch. The rain was still falling.
‘Someone check on the transport,’ he said. Sancto made to move, but Kazader sternly broke line, held up a hand to halt the Scion, and strode out into the rain.
‘And keep him in check too, Barthol,’ Gaunt murmured sidelong to Van Voytz. ‘He’s got a bigger streak of resentment in him than you have.’
‘Kazader’s good Guard,’ Van Voytz replied. ‘He’s got the makings of a high career. A generalship in a few years. In fact, I dare say, he reminds me of you.’
‘Exactly my point,’ said Gaunt.
Gaunt returned to his escort.
‘This is peculiar,’ said Laksheema.
‘You’ll find that a lot as far as she’s concerned,’ Gaunt replied. He glanced at Kolea. Gol looked tense and fidgety.
‘Gol?’
Kolea shrugged. ‘She’s not out there, sir,’ he said. He nodded towards an anteroom adjoining the hall.
‘Really?’ asked Gaunt.
Kolea shrugged again.
‘Come with me,’ Gaunt said. ‘Stay here,’ he added firmly to the others.
The pair crossed to the side door. Gaunt saw a single raindrop glinting on the gold handle.
He opened the door. The shifting air shivered the hundred candle flames burning in the anteroom. It was dark, like twilight, but Gaunt’s eyes automatically reset.
She was standing in the centre of the room. She turned to face him, and lowered the hood of her simple woollen cloak. Her combat boots and fatigues were equally worn and filthy, and the silver breastplate she wore – part of an articulated, Urdeshi-made combat carapace that also covered her arms and upper thighs – was chipped and tarnished. The only things that shone were the pommel of the sword sheathed on her left hip, the gold grip of the autopistol holstered on her right, and – somehow – her face.
Gaunt dropped to one knee, and bowed his head.
She stepped forward, took his hand, and raised him back up.
‘Ibram,’ she said. ‘Lord Executor.’
‘Beati,’ he replied. ‘We were attending upon you without.’
‘I require no formality,’ she said.
‘The warmaster sends his apologies that he could not greet you in person–’
‘Again, no formality.’
‘There will be feasting and ceremonies in due course,’ said Gaunt. ‘Once the crisis is behind us–’
‘And I will endure them. For now, there’s work to be done.’
She was small. She looked up into his eyes. It seemed she had not changed. Perhaps a fleck of grey in her short black hair. She looked like the Esholi girl he had first met on Herodor. Sanian. The green eyes had not altered.
Her presence had. The room felt charged, as if some powerful electric or magnetic force had been loosed upon it. There was a faint scent of islumbine.
‘It has been a long while for us,’ she said. ‘Our paths have diverged, now they come together again.’
‘I hope there is a purpose to that reunion,’ said Gaunt.
‘Yes. To bear witness to victory. The Anarch is broken.’
‘He fights on.’
‘And so he is at his most dangerous. Together we will prevail, for the Throne. I faced him. He set a trap for me, but I confounded it and I hurt him.’
‘You did?’
‘After Ghereppan. We broke his malicious efforts there. Shattered them and shattered his control of the field. Immediately, I pushed on into Oureppan, believing it to be his stronghold. It was headstrong, I suppose. But there was such a chance. Not just to vanquish him on the field of war and drive his forces to rout, but to finish him.’
Gaunt realised she looked very tired. She had come to Eltath directly from the heat of combat. She had not taken time to rest or clear her mind. He wondered how inexhaustible her divine strength really was.
‘I led an assault on the Pinnacle Spire at Oureppan early yesterday. It was a trap laid for me. A warp snare. But it failed. He fled. His ship was as damaged as he was. He has hidden to heal his wounds.’
‘But he’s close?’
‘Too close. Our focus shifts here now. The last part of this business.’
‘Your forces?’
‘Are moving up country. I have left good people in charge. Ghereppan is secured. Oureppan will be by tomorrow. The brigades that stood with me there are now driving the Archenemy out of Lartane and the Northern Claves. They will be with us in, perhaps, ten days. I wanted to lead them in person, but the warmaster summoned me.’
‘And you came.’
‘Of course.’
Gaunt became aware that there were others in the room. Two Guard soldiers, standing outside the ring of candles. They had assault weapons braced and ready across their chests. One was a small woman with an angular face and glossy dark hair. She wore the black-and-mulberry long coat of the Jovani Vanguard, and Gaunt noticed the insignia of the Collegia Tactica on her collar. The other was a man, his simple battle dress dark and ragged.
For a moment, Gaunt thought–
The Beati turned, and gestured to them to stand down. ‘My seconds,’ she said to Gaunt. ‘Captain Auerben and Major Sariadzi. All the rest of my chosen people are with the main force moving north.’
The pair put up their weapons, and saluted, the simple salute of troops who were weary from the field and who had seen everything. They had marched with the Saint. A Lord Executor was nothing impressive.
‘My lord,’ they both said.
Gaunt took their salute.
‘You remember my officer, Major Kolea–’ he began.
The Beati had already turned to Kolea with a bright smile.
‘Gol,’ she said.
He tried to bow again, but she took his wrists and kept him on his feet.
‘It is good to see you,’ she said.
‘Is it?’ asked Gaunt.
She glanced at him sideways with a quizzical smile.
‘I crave your indulgence for a moment, Beati,’ Gaunt said. He pulled open the anteroom door and called out into the reception hall.
‘Inquisitor?’
Laksheema strode in, followed by Grae. Gaunt closed the door in the faces of Van Voytz and anyone else following.
Grae and Laksheema stared at the Beati for a moment, as if surprised at the sight of her. It took a second for them to register the magnitude of her presence and see she was much more than a scruffy girl dressed like a gutter-trench auxiliary.
Grae dropped to his knee. Laksheema bowed respectfully. Gaunt saw an involuntary tear welling in her eye.
‘Introductions can wait,’ Gaunt said. ‘Beati, I want you to vouch for this man, for Gol, in front of these people. Let them witness it.’
‘And if you can’t vouch for me,’ said Kolea, ‘then speak that truth too. Right here. Let it be over with.’
The Beati frowned. She looked at Kolea with deep intent, as if she was seeing through him. He averted his eyes, flinching like a man waiting in a foxhole for a shell to fall.