«I make no guarantees, Adjunct,» Dujek said casually. «Come, let us walk.»
Lorn turned to Toc the Younger. «Thank you for the escort soldier.»
Dujek laughed, his eyes bright on Toc. «Unnecessary, Adjunct. I know who, and what, Toc the Younger is-as does virtually everyone else. If he's as good a Claw as he is a soldier, you'd do well to keep him. Dujek gestured that they walk. «Meaning that his reputation as a soldier of the Second is the only thing preventing a knife across the throat. Meaning get him out of Pale.»
The Adjunct eyed Toc. «I will see you later.» she said joining Dujek, who had passed beneath the gate's massive arch, Lorn matched his pace as they entered the city. Soldiers crowded the streets, directing merchant wagons and the mobs of citizenry. Evidence of the rain of death still scarred many of the buildings, but labourers had been
«The nobility are about to be culled,» Dujek said at her side.
«Empire policy,» Lorn replied stiffly. «You're well aware of that, High Fist.»
Dujek glared at her. «Nine out of ten nobles to hang, Adjunct? Children included?»
Lorn stared at him. «That seems excessive.»
Dujek was silent for a time, leading her down the main avenue then heading uphill towards the Empire headquarters. Many faces turned to regard them stonily as they passed, it seemed Dujek's identity was known among Pale's citizens. Lorn tried to sense the atmosphere his presence created, but couldn't be certain if it was fear or respect, or both.
«My mission,» Lorn said, as they approached a three-storey stone building, its entrance blocked by a dozen watchful marines, «will take me out of the city soon-»
«I don't want any details, Adjunct,» Dujek cut in. «You do what you have to do and just stay out of my way.»
His tone was unthreatening, almost pleasant, but Lorn felt her muscles tense. This man was being pushed, and Tayschrenn was doing the pushing. What was the High Mage up to? The whole situation stank of incompetence.
«As I was saying,» Lorn continued, «I won't be here long. When I am here, however,» and her voice hardened, «I will make plain to the High Mage that his interference in the city's management will not be tolerated. If you need backing, you have it, Dujek.»
They stopped just outside the building's entrance, and the old man gazed steadily at her, as if weighing her sincerity. But when he spoke, his words surprised her. «I can take care of my own problems, Adjunct. Do what you will, but I'm not asking for anything.»
«You'll permit the excessive culling of the nobility, then?»
Dujek's expression set into stubborn lines. «Battle tactics can be applied in any situation, Adjunct. And the High Mage is no tactician.» He turned and led her up the steps. Two guards opened the doors, which looked new and were banded in bronze. The High Fist and the Adjunct entered.
They strode down a long, wide hallway marked by doors on either side every dozen feet or so. Marines stood guard before each one, hands on their weapons. It was clear to Lorn that the incident with the Hound had heightened wariness to an almost absurd degree. Then a thought struck her. «High Fist, have there been attempts on your life?»
Dujek's grunt was amused. «Four in the last week, Adjunct. You get used to it. All these marines here volunteered themselves-they don't even listen to me any more. The last assassin was so badly chopped up I couldn't even make out if it was a man or a wornan.»
«You have a lot of Seven Cities natives in your legions, High Fist?»
«Aye. Loyal to a fault when they want to be.»
Loyal to what, Lorn wondered, and to whom? Seven Cities recruits were being sent elsewhere these days. The Empress did not wish Dujek's soldiers to become aware that their homeland was on the brink of open rebellion. Such news might well tip the scales here on Genabackis, and that in turn would trigger Seven Cities itself. Both Lorn and the Empress were well aware how dangerous things had become, and they had to tread carefully indeed in their efforts to repair the damage. And it was now becoming obvious that Tayschrenn presented a major problem.
She realized that she needed Dujek's support more than he needed hers.
They arrived at the hall's end where stood massive double doors. The soldiers at either side saluted the High Fist then opened them. Beyond was a large chamber dominated by a hardwood table in its centre. Maps, scrolls, ink and paint jars crowded its surface. Dujek and Lorn entered and the doors were shut behind them.
«Tayschrenn has been informed of your arrival, but will be delayed somewhat,» Dujek said, sitting on the edge of the table. «If you have questions regarding the recent events at Pale, ask them now.»
She knew he was giving her the opportunity to hear answers that didn't come from Tayschrenn. Though as to whose version of the truth she would accept was up to her. Lorn began to appreciate Dujek's comment about battle tactics. She strode to a nearby chair and settled slowly into its cushions. «Very well, High Fist. Small matters first. Have you encountered any difficulty with the Moranth?»
Dujek scowled. «Funny you should ask. They're getting pretty highminded about some things. I had a hell of a time getting the Gold legions-their e1ite warriors-to fight Caladan Brood. Seems they consider him too honourable to treat as an enemy. The whole alliance was on shaky ground for a while there, but in the end they marched. Soon I'll send the Black to join thern.»
Lorn nodded. «Similar problems with the Green and the Blue in Genabaris,» she said, «which explains why I came overland. The Empress suggests we make the most of the alliance, since it may not last.»
«We haven't much choice,» Dujek growled. «How many legions will I have in the spring landing?»
Lorn hesitated, then said, «Two. And a regiment of Wickan lancers. The Wickans and the Eleventh Legion will disembark at Nathilog. The Ninth will land in Nisst and join with the conscript forces-the Empress trusts the latter reinforcements will be sufficient to break the Crimson Guard at Fox Pass, thus opening Brood's flank.»
«Then the Empress is a fool,» Dujek said, his tone hard. «The conscripts are next to useless, Adjunct, and by this time next year the Crimson Guard will have liberated Nisst, Treet, One Eye Cat, Porule, Garalt and-»
«I know the list.» Lorn rose abruptly. «You'll receive two more legions next year, High Fist. That's it.»
Dujek thought for a time, his gaze on the map pegged to the table top.
Lorn waited. She knew he was lost in reordering, re-evaluating his plans for next season's campaign, that he'd entered a world of materiel and divisions, in second-guessing Caladan Brood and the commander of the Crimson Guard, Prince K'azz. Finally he cleared his throat. «Adjunct, is it possible to reverse the landings? The Eleventh and the Wickan lancers disembarking on the east coast, south of Apple. The Ninth on the west coast, to Tulips.»
Lorn strode to the table and studied the map. Tulips? Why there? That made no sense at all. «The Empress would be curious as to your revised plans, High Fist.»
«Meaning 'maybe'.» Dujek rubbed the stubble on his jaw, then gave a sharp nod. «All right, Adjunct. First, the conscripts will not hold Fox Pass. The Crimson Guard will be into the northlands by the time our reinforcements arrive. Much of that area is farmland, pasture. As we retreat, pulling the conscripts back to Nisst, we raze the countryside. No crops, no livestock. Whatever supplies K'azz will need he'll have to bring with him. Now, Adjunct, any army on the move, any army pursuing a routed army, is bound to leave its supply train behind, string it out in its haste to catch its enemy and deliver the killing blow. And that's where the Wickan lancers come in.»
The Wickan were born raiders, Lorn knew. In such countryside they'd be elusive, striking quickly and with deadly consequences. «And the Eleventh? Where will they be in all this?»
«A third will be stationed in Nisst. The rest will be on the quick march-to Fox Pass.»
«While Caladan Brood remains south of Blackdog Forest? That doesn't make sense, High Fist.»
«You suggested using the Moranth for all it's worth, didn't you? Well, from Tulips the Moranth and their Quorl will be staging a massive lift.»
Dujek's gaze narrowed as he studied the map. «I want the Ninth south of Blackdog Swamp by the time I bring up my forces from here and place them south of Brood. A concerted push from the Gold and Black should push him right into our laps, while his allies, the Crimson Guard, are stuck on the wrong side of Fox Pass.»
«You intend to transport an entire legion by air?»
«Does the Empress want this war won in her lifetime or not?» He pushed himself away from the table and paced. «Mind you,» he said, as if struck by sudden doubts, «it may all be academic. If I were Brood I'd:»
His voice trailed away, and he faced the Adjunct. «Will the transport orders be reversed?»
Lorn searched his face. Something told her that the High Fist had just made an intuitive leap, and it had to do with Caladan Brood, and that as far as Dujek was concerned, it was indeed now academic. She also realized that this was something he wouldn't share with her. She scanned the map again, trying to see what Dujek had seen. But it was hopeless, she was no tactician. Trying to guess Dujek's thoughts was hard enough; but to try the same with Caladan Brood was impossible. «Your plan, although brash, is now officially accepted on behalf of the Empress. Your request will be fulfilled.»
Dujek nodded half-heartedly.
«One thing, High Fist, before Tayschrenn arrives. There was a Hound of Shadow here?»
«Yes,» the man said. «I wasn't here at the time, but I saw the mess the beast left behind. If not for Tattersail it would've been far worse.»
Lorn saw a glint of horror in Dujek's eyes and into her mind returned the scene from the coast road west of Itko Kan, two years ago. «I've seen the work of Hounds before,» she said, meeting his eyes.
In that moment of locked gazes they shared something profound. Then Dujek pulled his eyes away. «This Tattersail,» Lorn said, to hide a pang of regret, «Must be a very capable sorceress.»
«The only cadre mage to have survived Tayschrenn's assault on Moon's Spawn,» Dujek replied.
«Indeed?» To Lorn, that revelation was even more remarkable. She wondered if Dujek suspected anything, but his next words put her at ease.
«She called it luck, on both counts, and she might be right.»
«Has she been a cadre mage for a long time?» Lorn asked.
«Ever since I took command. Perhaps eight, nine years.»
The familiarity of Tattersail's name returned to Lorn then, like a mailed fist clenching her heart. She found herself sitting down again, and Dujek had taken a step towards her, genuine concern in his eyes.
«Your injury needs attending to,» he said gruffly. «I shouldn't have waited.»
«No, no, it's all right. Weariness, that's all.»
He studied her quizzically. «Would you like some wine, Adjunct?»
She nodded. Tattersail. Was it possible? She would know when she saw the woman. She would know then. «Nine years,» she murmured, «the Mouse.»
«I beg your pardon?»
She looked up to find Dujek before her. He offered her a goblet of wine. «Nothing,» she said, as she accepted it. «Thank you.»
As the double doors swung open both turned. In strode Tayschrenn, his face dark with fury as he confronted Dujek.
«Damn you,» the High Mage grated. «If you had a hand in this I'll find it, and that is a promise.»
Dujek raised an eyebrow. «A hand in what, High Mage?» he asked coolly.
«I've just been to the Hall of Records. A fire? The place looks like the inside of an oven.»
Lorn rose and stepped between them. «High Mage Tayschrenn,» she said, in a low, dangerous tone, «perhaps you could tell me why this matter of some fire in some bureaucrat's chamber should override all other considerations?»
