The Tanner screwed his face up. That was then.
That was then? muttered Hood, gaping with disbelief. What happened to honest wages for honest work? What happened to shares in the profit? What happened to equal rights no matter the cost? You stood there, and you promised me! He shoved his hand towards the valley. You promised all of them! Whats changed, except that Aduas within our grasp? We can take all we want! We can
I say these terms will do! snarled the Tanner with a sudden fury. Unless you care to fight the Kings men on your own! They follow me, Hood, not you, in case you hadnt noticed.
But you promised us freedom, for every man! I trusted you! The farmers face hung slack with horror. We all trusted you.
Jezal had never seen a man look so utterly indifferent as the Tanner did now. I suppose I must have that kind of face that people trust, he droned, and his friend Hoist shrugged and stared at his fingernails.
Damn you, then! Damn you all! And Hood turned and shoved angrily out through the tent flap.
Jezal was aware of Bayaz leaning sideways to whisper to Major Opker. Have that man arrested before he leaves the lines.
Arrested, my Lord, but under a flag of parley?
Arrested, placed in irons, and conducted to the House of Questions. A shred of white cloth can be no hiding place from the Kings justice. I believe Superior Goyle is handling the investigations.
Er of course. Opker rose to follow the Goodman out of the tent, and Jezal smiled nervously. There was no doubt that the Tanner had heard the exchange, but he grinned on as though the future of his erstwhile companion was no longer any of his concern.
I must apologise for my associate. In a matter like this, you cant please everyone. He gave a flamboyant wave of his hand. But dont worry. Ill give the little people a big speech, and tell them we have all we fought for, and theyll soon be off back to their homes with no real harm done. Some few will be determined to make trouble perhaps, but Im sure you can round them up without much effort, eh, Colonel Luthar?
Er well, mumbled Jezal, left without the slightest idea of what was going on. I suppose that we
Excellent. The Tanner sprang to his feet. I fear I must now take my leave. All kinds of errands to be about. Never any peace, eh, Colonel Luthar? Never the slightest peace. He exchanged a long glance with Bayaz, then ducked out into the daylight and was gone.
If anyone should ask, murmured the First of the Magi in Jezals ear, I would tell them that it was a testing negotiation, against sharp and determined opponents, but that you held your nerve, reminded them of their duty to king and country, implored them to return to their fields, and so forth.
But Jezal felt like he wanted to cry, he was so baffled. Hugely baffled and hugely relieved at once. But I
If anyone should ask. There was an edge to Bayaz voice that implied the episode was now finished with.
Beloved of the Moon
The Dogman stood, squinting into the sun, and watched the Union lads all shuffling past the other way. Theres a certain look the beaten get, after a fight. Slow-moving, hunched-up, mud-spattered, mightily interested in the ground. Dogman had seen that look before often enough. Hed had it himself moren once. Sorrowful theyd lost. Shamed theyd been beaten. Guilty, to have given up without getting a wound. Dogman knew how that felt, and a gnawing feeling it could be, but guilt was a sight less painful than a sword-cut, and healed a sight quicker.
Some of the hurt werent so badly off. Bandaged or splinted, limping with a stick or with their arm round a mates shoulders. Enough to get light duty for a few weeks. Others werent so lucky. Dogman thought he knew one. An officer, hardly old enough for a beard, his smooth face all twisted up with white pain and shock, his leg off just above the knee, his clothes, and the stretcher, and the two men carrying him, all specked and spattered with dark blood. He was the one whod sat on the gate, when Dogman and Threetrees had first come to Ostenhorm to join up with the Union. The one whod looked at em like they were a pair of turds. He didnt sound so very clever now, squealing with every jolt of his stretcher, but it hardly made the Dogman smile. Losing a leg seemed like harsh punishment for a sneering manner.
West was down there by the path, talking to an officer with a dirty bandage round his head. Dogman couldnt hear what they were saying, but he could guess the gist. From time to time one of em would point up towards the hills theyd come from. A steep and nasty-looking pair, wooded mostly, with a few hard faces of bare rock showing. West turned and caught the Dogmans eye, and his face was grim as a gravediggers. It hardly took a quick mind to see that the war werent won quite yet.
Shit, muttered the Dogman, under his breath. He felt that sucking feeling in his gut. That low feeling he used to get whenever he had to scout out a new piece of ground, whenever Threetrees called for weapons, whenever there was nothing for breakfast but cold water.
Since he was chief, though, he seemed to have it pretty much all the time. Everything was his problem now. Nothing doing?
West shook his head as he walked up. Bethod was waiting for us, and in numbers. Hes dug in on those hills. Well dug in and well prepared, between us and Carleon. More than likely he was ready for this before he even crossed the border.
He always did like to be ready, did Bethod. No way round him?
Kroys tried both the roads and had two maulings. Now Poulders tried the hills head on and had a worse one.
Dogman sighed. No way round.
No way that wont give Bethod a nice chance to stick the knife right into us.
And Bethod wont be missing no chance like that. Its what hell be hoping for.
The Lord Marshal agrees. He wants you to take your men north. West glared out at the grey whispers of other hills, further off. He wants you to look for a weakness. Theres no way Bethod can cover the whole range.
Is there not? asked Dogman. I guess well see. Then he headed off into the trees. The boys were going to love this.
He strode up the track, soon came up on where his crew were camped out. They were growing all the time. Mightve been four hundred now, all counted, and a tough crowd too. Those whod never much cared for Bethod in the first place, mostly, whod fought against him in the wars. Whod fought against the Dogman as well, for that matter. The woods were choked up with em, sat round fires, cooking, polishing at weapons and working at gear, a couple having a practice at each other with blades. Dogman winced at the sound of steel clashing. Thered be more of that later, and with bloodier results, he didnt doubt.
Chief! they shouted at him. Dogman! The chief! Hey hey! They clapped their hands and tapped their weapons on the rocks they sat on. Dogman held up his fist, and gave the odd half-grin, and said aye, good, good, and all that. He still didnt have the slightest clue how to act like a chief, if the truth be told, so he just acted like he always had. The band all seemed happy enough, though. He guessed they always did. Until they started losing fights, and decided they wanted a new chief.
He came up on the fire where the pick of his Named Men were passing the day. No sign of Logen, but the rest of the old crew were sat round it, looking bored. Those that were still alive, leastways. Tul saw him coming. The Dogmans back.
Uh, said Grim, trimming at some feathers with a razor.
Dow was busy mopping grease out of a pan with a chunk o bread.
Howd the Union get on with them hills, then? And he had a sneer to his voice that said he knew the answer already. Make a shit from it, did they?
Well, they came out second, if thats what youre asking.