‘Something awry, sir?’ Beltayn asked.
Gaunt hesitated. He wanted to say it was too much, to confide in his adjutant that there was now so much to consider. The constant dataflow, the push-back from the command staff, the clashing personalities…
But that was an unfair burden to drop on Beltayn. ‘Above his pay grade’, wasn’t that how Beltayn had put it? Gaunt was another breed of creature now.
Rather than reply, he waved his hand at the piles of slates and documents.
‘A lot to process,’ he said.
‘And they don’t listen,’ said Beltayn.
‘Who?’ asked Gaunt.
‘The lords,’ said Beltayn. He looked reluctant to say any more, but then plunged on anyway. ‘It’ll take them a while to get used to the fact you’re above them now. Leap-frogged them all. In my opinion. Just take them a while to get used to taking orders from you.’
‘How long did it take you, Bel?’
Beltayn smiled. ‘I was a common-as-feth slog trooper, sir. I did as I was told right off the bat because otherwise you’d, you know, shoot me and everything.’
Beltayn looked over at the stacked documents.
‘As for that,’ he said. ‘Triage.’
‘Triage? Meaning?’
‘Permission to speak candidly, my lord?’
‘Always.’
‘Most of that, it’s just noise,’ said Beltayn. ‘I’m a field adj, a vox-officer. How do you think I kept my eye on the actual vitals in the thick of it? When it was all going off, and the artillery was coming in, and there was fething las shrieking hither and yon? How did I keep it neat and get you the stuff you needed, no extraneous crap?’
‘Tell me.’
‘Focus. Triage. Data triage. Most of that stuff is only wildfire las whipping around you. Screen it out. Filter it down. Or find someone who can do that for you. Always worked for me.’
‘You ignored things?’
Beltayn shrugged. ‘Only the stuff that didn’t matter, sir.’
‘I’m almost glad I didn’t know this before now.’
‘You’re still alive, aren’t you?’
Gaunt smiled. ‘Judgement call, then?’
‘Always. Works on the ground. Should work for you. I mean, your judgement is what got you that high and mighty rank, right?’
Gaunt nodded. His smile faded.
‘I’ve got ten minutes. I’ll handle that other business now.’
‘The regimental business, sir?’
‘The regimental business,’ said Gaunt.
He was learning things, learning them fast as part of his new role. One was that he could walk and read at the same time.
The Scions flanked him at all times, two in front, two behind. If he stayed aware of the heels of the men in front of him, Gaunt could speed-read data-slates as he strode along, confident that Sancto and his men would steer him around corners, avoid obstacles, and open doors without him even having to look up.
He reviewed the slate again. Disposition reports on the Tanith First, laid out in simple unfussy terms. The main strength of the regiment, under Rawne, was still down at the Tulkar Batteries in the Millgate Quarter, following the brutal repulse of the enemy push three days before. Two companies – V and E – nominally under the command of Captain Daur were billeted in the palace itself, along with the retinue.
For nearly four days, he hadn’t been able to find time to go and see either element in person, not even the section secure in the palace with him.
And just four days before, Ibram Gaunt would not have allowed such an oversight to happen. He’d been colonel-commissar then, and his men had been his only priority.
How things changed. How perspective shifted. Maybe Grizmund had been right. He’d had no reason to lie. Make the break and make it fast. No sentiment. Otherwise it’s heartbreaking.
The trouble was, it was heartbreaking.
As a soldier rose through the ranks of the Imperium, he was obliged to leave many things behind. Gaunt knew that. He’d walked away from the Hyrkans after Balhaut. He wondered if he could ever do the same to the Ghosts.
But it wasn’t the officer in him responding to these things, it was the human being. It was personal, it was sentiment. The feelings made him doubt his suitability for the rank he now held, and he had hidden them from other lords militant for fear of their scorn.
Just a few lines on a report, and they had cut him through. Line items that mattered to him as a man, not as a soldier.
At the Tulkar Batteries, there had been significant losses. He’d reviewed the casualty lists sadly, wearily. It had always been a painful task.
One thing had stood out. Sergeant Mkoll, MIA. Presumed dead. Mkoll, chief of scouts, had always been core to the Ghosts, one of the most able soldiers.
And a good friend.
Gaunt couldn’t believe that Mkoll had finally gone.
Then there was the report, filed by Commissar Fazekiel, of an incident during the evacuation of V and E companies from the Low Keen billet. It made so little sense. Three Ghosts dead, one of them Eszrah ap Niht. Another miserable personal loss.
Gaunt wanted an explanation. The three had died during an incident involving his son.
Except Felyx Chass was, apparently, no longer his son.
And that was the hardest thing of all to understand.
Captain Daur was waiting for him in the anteroom of the private quarters assigned to him. He stood as Gaunt entered with his Scion honour guard, set aside the book he had been reading, and snapped smartly to attention.
Sancto and his men looked at him dubiously.
‘Wait outside,’ Gaunt said. The Scions withdrew. He could feel their reluctance.
‘At ease, Daur,’ Gaunt said.
‘My first opportunity to congratulate you, my lord,’ said Daur.
‘Thank you,’ Gaunt replied. ‘My first opportunity to attend to any regimental matters. My apologies. You’ve been holding the fort, I trust?’
‘Both companies and the retinue are housed in the undercroft, lord,’ said Daur. ‘There are the usual run of issues to deal with. I have them in hand, though Major Baskevyl is very keen to speak to you directly.’
‘About?’
‘Major Kolea, lord. Detained by the Intelligence Service in regards to the assets recovered at the Reach.’
‘I’d heard something about that. I have a hunch that explains why the ordos are sniffing around too. Tell Baskevyl to come up and I’ll get to him as quickly as I can.’
‘Yes, lord.’
‘I need to deal with this first,’ Gaunt said. ‘It’s overdue.’
‘Of course. She’s in there,’ Daur said, gesturing to the inner door.
‘An account, please,’ said Gaunt.
‘I wasn’t present,’ said Daur. ‘Blenner and Meryn were the officers of record at the time. Fazekiel is in charge of the investigation.’
‘And I’m sure she’ll be thorough. A summary, please.’
‘Gendler attacked Felyx in the shower blocks at Low Keen,’ said Daur. ‘The piece of shit… Excuse me, sir. It seems he believed Felyx has access to private funds, and wanted a slice. Jakub Wilder was in on it too. Never liked him either. Too much in the shadow of his war-hero brother… which, by the by, will give you problems as far as the Belladon are concerned. That’s two Wilders deceased under your–’
‘I’m aware, Ban.’
Ban Daur studied his face, frowned slightly, then continued.
‘Gendler attacked Felyx,’ he said. ‘Bungled it. Ezra discovered them, killed Gendler. Wilder killed Ezra. Meryn and Blenner found this total fething lunacy in progress. Witnessed it, for the most part. Blenner executed Wilder on the spot.’