“Yes.” Whatever that is.
“In that case, I suggest you impress on them the need to keep it to themselves. If this experiment is a success, perhaps in time you can dispense with the charade. But until then. .”
“They can keep a secret,” Jane said. “Sir.”
“Very well.” He looked from Winter to Jane and back again. “Was that all?”
Jane glanced at Winter. “I. . think so.”
“Could I have a moment with the colonel?” Winter said. “Please.”
“Sure. I’ll be outside.”
The door opened and closed with a soft click. Janus waited patiently. Winter took a deep breath.
“I have to know,” she said. “You sent me to Jane.”
“I did,” Janus said. “I wasn’t one hundred percent certain, of course, that she was the friend you told me about, but the balance of probability seemed to indicate it.”
“And then. . all the rest. Jane stormed the Vendre. I ended up in the Deputies. And getting you out of prison. .” She hesitated. “Is that why you put me there? So I could do what I did?”
“Did I know what was going to happen, in other words?” Janus chuckled. “Ah, Lieutenant. You have no idea how easy it would be to cultivate a reputation for genius, simply by taking credit for things after the fact.”
“But-if you didn’t know, then why. .”
“Do you play chess?”
Winter blinked. “Not very well.”
“As a game, it has never interested me,” Janus said. “But it is useful as a metaphor. In chess, against a strong opponent, one can never plan with certainty. A good player does not claim to predict exactly what will happen, and position his pieces just so. Rather, he puts his pieces in the places where they will have the most opportunity to help him, whatever his opponent does.”
“And I’m just a piece in your game?”
“You’re a soldier under my command. A valuable asset. I guessed that having you by the side of the notorious Southside gang leader Mad Jane would be more likely to be a good use of your talents than, say, keeping you at court. As it happens, I was right, and Jane proved pivotal. But can I say I knew that would happen? No. Much as I might like to.”
“I understand.” Winter let out a long breath. “I wanted to thank you. For. . keeping your word, about Jane.”
“Of course.”
“And what about the Black Priests? It was one of them who assassinated Danton. You must have had the Colonials bring the tablets back from Khandar, but-”
“One thing at a time, Lieutenant,” Janus interrupted. “Right now Orlanko is the opponent in front of us. Once he is dealt with. . we shall see.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
MARCUS
“Fitz!” Marcus said, grabbing his ex-lieutenant’s hand. “Damn, I’m glad you’re here. The extra stripe suits you!”
“Thank you, sir,” Fitz said. His blue uniform was immaculate as always, and the two silver stripes that marked him as a captain gleamed bright. “It’s only provisional, of course, until it’s confirmed by the Ministry.”
Marcus laughed. “If we win, I don’t think that will be a problem. And if we lose. .”
“My thoughts exactly, sir.”
“You can dispense with the ‘sir’ now, you know.”
Fitz looked almost offended. “Oh no, sir. You still retain seniority.”
Oh well. At least some things never change. “You’re here to see the colonel?”
“To pick him up, actually.” They were standing outside the front door of the Twin Turrets, and Fitz indicated the two-horse carriage parked in the drive. “He wanted to see the Triumph, where we’re doing the public training. I imagine he’ll want you to come along.”
“Glad to hear it.” Marcus fingered the hem of his coat, self-consciously. “It’s a little odd, living in a house where the queen wanders in to breakfast in her bathrobe.”
“I can imagine, sir.”
There was a long pause, and Marcus felt strangely awkward. He’d spent two years with Fitz, and during that time the lieutenant’s presence had become an organic part of his life. He’d hardly had to issue orders-Fitz had anticipated him and done what needed to be done, as easily as breathing.
Now, though, he didn’t know where he stood. Fitz was captain of the First Battalion, Marcus’ old unit. Marcus had no doubt he was up to the task; it was his own position that was unclear. He didn’t have a real position, except that of captain of the now-defunct Armsmen and general assistant to the colonel. In the old days, Marcus would have been quizzing Fitz on the state of the troops and what preparations had been made, but now it felt as though that would be infringing on the new captain’s prerogative.
Fitz frowned. At first Marcus thought he was feeling the same awkwardness, but he said, “Sir. I hate to be the bearer of the bad news, but there’s something you need to know.”
“Bad news?”
Fitz nodded soberly. “It’s concerning Miss Alhundt. I know the two of you were. . close.”
“Ah.” Marcus swallowed, mouth suddenly dry. “And?”
“She didn’t survive the crossing, sir,” Fitz said. “I’m sorry. The doctors tried their best, but in the end they couldn’t even get her to take water. We had to bury her at sea.”
Marcus nodded distantly. He wasn’t sure if he should be grieving or relieved. He could remember Jen in the ancient temple, wielding a cracking, spitting sorcery that tore stone to shreds, mocking the time they’d spent together. But he could also see her in his tent, huddled tight against him to fit on the narrow camp bed, her chin resting on his shoulder and her slow breathing tickling his ear. There had been a gentleness there, a vulnerability that he couldn’t reconcile with the vicious creature who’d attacked him.
Which one was the real woman, and which one was the mask? Now, he supposed, he’d never know.
“Thank you for telling me,” Marcus said, eventually.
“I’m sorry,” Fitz said again. “I thought you’d want to know sooner rather than later.”
“Yes.” Marcus took a deep breath, past the knot in his throat. “What about the others?”
“Everyone’s doing well, sir. We had a few rankers come down with a fever, and we left them in Vayenne, but otherwise it was a quiet voyage.” He made a face. “The men didn’t appreciate having to wait an extra week in the transports, though.”
“An extra week? What do you mean?”
“We docked downriver at Ohms a week ago, sir. The colonel’s instructions were to wait there for a message from him, then to make our best time up the Green Road to the city.”
“And you did an excellent job, Captain Warus,” Janus said, opening the front door. Two of his Mierantai followed, long rifles resting on their shoulders. “I didn’t want the Colonials to march into the city without being sure of their reception,” he explained to Marcus. “So I left instructions for them to wait. And a good thing, too. No telling how the deputies would have reacted to an army regiment turning up unexpectedly.”
“No telling,” Marcus murmured, remember the couriers riding in all directions as soon as Janus had been released. I wonder what else he had waiting.
“Shall we?” Janus said. “It’s going to be a busy day. Messengers from the duke arrived this morning.”
“Messengers?” Marcus said, as they started toward the carriage. “With what sort of message?”
“His Grace demands our surrender, of course. Having defeated Deputy Peddoc’s force, he assumes we are at his mercy. His representatives were very surprised to get the news that the Colonials had arrived.”
“That should give him pause, I should hope.”
“The longer the better,” Janus said. “We need time more than anything. Unfortunately, I suspect the duke realizes that as well.”
“What did you do with them, sir?” Fitz said. “The messengers. I assume they wanted to open negotiations.”
“Oh, I imagine they’re negotiating as we speak.” Janus flashed a smile. “I told them I was only empowered to defend the city, not to engage in any discussions, and that they would have to talk to the deputies. I last saw them heading toward the cathedral.”