“The old woman next to him, Sunnin, she buried seven sons after the Kez burned Little Starland to the ground. You wouldn’t know it from looking at her but she can aim a lance better than I can. Chraston’s farm was torched. Jack’s parents were hung for trying to defend their own cattle.”
“The story is the same all around here. Everyone fighting the Kez has lost someone close but here, in the Mad Lancers, we take the very worst of them. We take the beaten and broken, the ones without anyone left, the ones who no one believes can fight, and we teach them to ride, to fight, to kill.”
“I’ve got three hundred lances under my command. We’ve buried at least that many along the way, and every one of them has ridden through the gates of the pit with the wind in their hair, a beloved name on their lips, and a Kez spine pinioned to the end of their lance.”
Stunned, Taniel turned to Styke. He’d heard the stories of the Mad Lancers just like everyone else. But he’d had no idea. He opened his mouth, not sure what to say.
“We’re the chaff,” Styke said. “Lindet doesn’t give a damn about our lives and we don’t give a damn about her orders. If you want to stay behind and protect Planth, you bet the medals on your daddy’s jacket the Mad Lancers will stay with you.” He reached out, clasping Taniel’s hand.
Taniel could do nothing but clasp back.
Taniel started awake in the darkness, sitting up in his bedroll with sweat rolling down the back of his neck. He remained still for several moments, trying to orient his foggy mind, before seeing a shape at the entrance to his tent.
“Pole?” he asked.
The figure nodded. Or at least, he thought it nodded. He reached for his kit and found an old snuff tin, tapping a line of black powder on the back of his hand. One quick snort later, and his night-vision improved ten-fold as the powder trance kicked in. He could see Ka-poel kneeling at the flap of his tent and behind her, someone else.
“What is it, Pole?”
“Get out here, Two-shot,” a voice called gruffly. “The Lady Chancellor wants to see you.”
Ka-poel jerked her thumb over her shoulder as if to say that. Taniel stiffened. What could Lindet possibly want at this hour? He dressed quickly, tucking a knife into his belt and taking an extra hit of powder as a precaution before climbing out of his tent and finding four of Lindet’s thugs gathered just outside. What had Styke called them again? Blackhats.
This didn’t look like a social call.
What was going on? Did Styke betray him, telling Lindet about Taniel’s plans to keep the Ghost Irregulars behind longer than planned? He almost grabbed his rifle but thought better of it. Nothing was going to happen, he reassured himself. Maybe this was just a social call – a last series of orders before she made her escape.
Of course, they wouldn’t send four men to bring him in if that was the case.
Taniel accompanied the Blackhats through the militia camp and into Planth, passing the city center until they reached the point at which the highway left the northern part of the city. Taniel expected a wagon train waiting to move Lindet’s government on to her next hiding spot and was surprised to see less than a hundred mounted riders waiting beside the road. No carts, no carriages.
Taniel could sense Lindet’s lone Privileged among the group and recognized some of the faces he’d seen in the church the day before, both administrators and Blackhats. The former had heavy saddlebags, while the latter were armed with blunderbusses and carbines. Lindet, it seemed, packed light. No wonder she’d managed to stay ahead of the Kez all this time.
Taniel was directed toward the middle of the column, where he found Lindet standing next to her horse, giving quiet directions to one of her footmen. She was wrapped in a cloak despite the warmth, and she seemed small and unimposing to him at first glance. But when she turned those eyes upon him, fiery and critical, he had to keep himself from taking a step back.
“Two-shot,” she greeted him.
“Lady Chancellor.”
Taniel clasped his hands behind his back, falling into an at-ease position. It was instinctual for a soldier like him, but it also let him keep one hand near his belt knife. He could feel the Blackhats still lurking behind him.
“Let’s do each other a favor,” Lindet said, her tone almost pleasant. “You’re not going to pretend that you haven’t been plotting to disobey my orders. In return, I’m not going to pretend that your life means even the slightest bit to me. Does that seem fair?”
“I didn’t know we were pretending either of those things,” Taniel said. “Though I am curious how you knew. Did Styke tell you?”
“Styke didn’t have to tell me anything. It’s in his nature to disobey me and I half-expected it in this case, even if I did give him a juicy assignment up north. The man’s a prat and will one day go too far. But you… I expected better from you, considering your father.”
She seemed less like an angry officer and more like a schoolteacher lecturing a wayward youth. Taniel felt suddenly angry. He was a foreigner. A volunteer in this war. He could abandon his post and head home right now, never to return, and no one in Adro would think less of him for it. She should be begging for his help, asking for his council, and instead Taniel got… this.
“You never answered my question,” Taniel said.
“Your new friend Styke thought he was quietly asking around for some extra support in your planned mutiny. He’s not as subtle as he thinks. In fact, I don’t think Ben Styke has done anything subtle his entire life.” Lindet shook her head, a disgusted sneer on her lips.
“I wouldn’t call it a mutiny,” Taniel said. He focused on his breathing, on keeping calm. What had his father said about dealing with angry superior officers? Smile, nod, and apologize. Well, Taniel damn well wasn’t going to apologize. “I simply plan on stretching my orders a bit. Sticking around a little longer than planned to allow more of the Planth citizens to escape.”
“Stretching orders,” Lindet repeated sarcastically. “You’re walking a thin line, Two-shot, but you’re right. If you planned outright sedition you’d be in a noose right now.”
And I wonder how you’d explain my death to my father, Taniel wondered idly. You would not like how he reacts to the death of a family member, even if he doesn’t seem to think much of me. Out loud he said, “You didn’t have a problem with my disobedience when the Ghost Irregulars risked our necks to delay the Kez advance.”
“Because,” Lindet replied, her tone gaining an edge of impatience, “the Tristan Ghost Irregulars have been following the same orders for twelve months; to harass and hinder the enemy. I chose to believe you’d never received my latest orders and were simply continuing as you always had.”
It was a piss-thin excuse and they both knew it. But Lindet was making it clear she would justify anything she wanted. “And now?” Taniel asked.
Lindet regarded him thoughtfully, looking over his shoulder at the Blackhats standing behind him. Taniel’s fingers twitched toward his knife, and he felt himself tense. “My order stands,” she finally said. “The Ghost Irregulars are to remain in Planth for the next two days until the Kez arrive, at which time you will provide a delaying action for their advance through the city and up the highway for the next twenty miles. From there you will split off and return to your post in the Basin.
“You can’t win,” she continued. “The Kez have too many men. Extending your delaying action is very likely to get you and the rest of the Ghost Irregulars killed. You’ve been a valuable asset in this part of the country, and I will be annoyed at the loss. But I already have one Ben Styke and I don’t need another one, so if you decide to disobey my orders I’ll see it as a personal favor if you die heroically.”