Ibana tensed. “Trouble?”
“Nah. He and his friends were off-duty. I think we understand each other now.”
Taniel grimaced at the blood. It looked like Styke had been bashed across the head with a millstone, but he seemed no worse for the wear. “Who are the Blackhats?” he asked.
“Two-shot,” Styke grunted. “Didn’t expect you here. The Blackhats are Lindet’s hatchetmen. They’re the ones with the vests and bowler caps you saw in Planth. Thugs and spies, the lot of them, but they’re good at their job. Surprised Ibana let you in the camp. Thought I gave orders to keep things tight around here.”
“Go to the pit,” Ibana responded. “You want me to break your nose again?”
Styke laughed. Taniel looked between them, wondering what kind of an officer relationship this was. That kind of language would end you up on latrine duty for a month, even if you were friendly with your commanding officer.
He cleared his throat. “Was hoping to talk with you. In private.”
“Yeah? Sure, we can do that.”
Styke led them through the camp, over to the impromptu corral the Mad Lancers had built. He pulled a carrot out of his pocket, feeding the first horse to come nuzzle him, and patting it gently on the flank. It was an oddly gentle gesture for a man with such a brutal reputation.
“What do you need, Two-shot?” he asked.
Taniel looked up at the afternoon sun, suddenly feeling like he didn’t know where to start. His anger with Lindet had faded, and he wanted to just head off to find the Ghost Irregulars and get some rest. He realized that he hadn’t slept much for days, and not at all since yesterday morning.
“This might seem a little strange,” he said. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you, except by reputation. But I need help.”
Styke removed his big knife from its sheath, scowling at it and rubbing some blood out of the groove with his thumb. “What kind of help?”
“You heard Lindet’s plans this afternoon. She means to abandon the city to the Kez in order to make her escape and she wants us to provide a screen and then withdraw ourselves. I assume she doesn’t want to lose any of her local assets protecting a doomed city, but I don’t think it’s doomed.”
Styke stared at him.
Taniel cleared his throat and continued. “The garrison will stay behind, assuming they’re local. Two days isn’t enough time for the rest of the city to evacuate but I’m thinking about...stretching the terms of my orders and sticking around a bit longer. Maybe trying to buy the people who want to leave enough time to get out of reach of the Kez. I wondered if you’d be interested in doing the same.”
“Huh,” Styke grunted. He pointed his knife at Taniel. “You’re going to stretch your orders.”
“What do you mean?”
“Lindet is only leaving skirmishers behind. She’s sending everyone else to wherever they’re needed. The Mad Lancers are supposed to head north, then east to deal with Kez cuirassiers cutting up the countryside a hundred miles from here.”
Taniel swore to himself. Why hadn’t he thought of that? Of course Styke wouldn’t be participating in the delaying action. The Mad Lancers were heavy cavalry – as heavy as you get. If they engaged the Kez, they wouldn’t be un-engaging until the battle was over.
“I see,” he said. “Yeah, that makes sense. Well, thanks for your time.” He turned away, angry that he’d wasted an hour on a fruitless pursuit. Maybe he’d reconsider his idea of heading to the newspaper, without Ka-poel to stop him.
“Hold up,” Styke said.
Taniel turned back. Styke was idly picking his teeth with the tip of his knife. “Just out of curiosity,” he said, “why’d you come to me?”
Taniel considered the question. “I’ve spent the last twelve months shooting Kez out in the swamp. I’ve got a name, I guess, but I don’t know anyone. Don’t know the politics here. You’re the most senior officer I’ve met. Back with Lindet, you seemed like the only person vaguely bothered that she’s leaving Planth to burn. Everyone knows your name, and everyone knows you fight lost causes. I thought you’d be willing to help. Or at least try to convince Lindet to extend the delaying action.”
Styke chuckled. “You’re right you don’t know the politics. Lindet isn’t the type to be convinced by anyone. You’re either with her or you’re against her, and there’s very little in between. You might be able to get away with extending your delaying action. But us sticking around? She wouldn’t like that at all.”
Taniel smiled, kicking himself inwardly. “I don’t think I know you enough to ask you to outright disobey orders.”
“Probably not,” Styke conceded. “Do me a favor, though. Tell me why you’re here.”
Taniel frowned. “To defend Planth.”
“Not here, here. In Fatrasta. What are you? Nineteen? Twenty? You’re the son of the most decorated war hero in the Nine. Why are you an ocean away from home, creeping around the swamps, instead of whoring your way through a university in the Nine?”
“It’s… “ Taniel began. “It’s personal.”
Styke shrugged. “Everything’s personal, Two-shot.”
Taniel hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like to talk about his father, or about much of anything regarding home. It always sounded too much like whining. But Styke was good enough to give him a few moments of his time. He deserved an honest answer.
“My father sent me abroad to widen my worldview,” he said. “I didn’t want to go, and he forced it. Sent me away from my friends, my fiancée – everything I knew. I’m not even sure what I was being punished for, but it was definitely a punishment of some kind. Anyways, I managed two weeks of a tour of the Fatrastan coast before the revolution started. I had an excuse to head home, but the Kez killed my mother when I was a boy, so I signed up to shoot at them. I figured it was something that would make my father proud and piss him off all at once.”
Styke rolled his tongue around in his cheek, and Taniel could tell he was trying not to laugh. But his grin was companionable, and Taniel found it hard to take offense. “Impertinence, stubbornness, and vengeance all rolled into one,” Styke said. “I like it. It has flavor. So what’s your plan to defend Planth?”
Taniel didn’t dare to hope Styke would offer his help. But Styke was an experienced cavalryman and he’d won more real battles than Taniel had ever fought. Any advice of his would be warmly welcomed.
“Delays,” he said. “Not everyone will be willing – or able – to leave Planth but if we can give the rest an extra day or two it might save thousands of lives. I’ll start by killing their other three Privileged and then we’ll bluff, bargain, and fight until the very last moment.”
“And you expect to pull out of it alive?”
“If anyone can, it’ll be the Tristan Ghost Irregulars,” Taniel said. Of that, he was confident. Of the plan itself… “But if we can’t, defending a helpless city isn’t a bad way to die.”
“You’re not the commanding officer of the Ghost Irregulars,” Styke pointed out. “Is your Major Bertreau on board with this?”
“She doesn’t care much for politics. She likes to fight lost causes, so it won’t be hard to bring her around.”
“My kind of woman.” Styke grinned, an expression that split his broad face in two. “I like you, Two-shot. You’ve got balls. Come here, let me show you something.” Taniel followed Styke back into the camp, where Styke pointed at one of the officers that Ibana had introduced earlier. “That’s Little Gamble,” he said. “He’s a total coward. Hasn’t lifted a weapon his whole life. We found him next to the graves of his wife and daughters after a Kez patrol swept through and he’s been our quartermaster and banner man ever since.”