indulgences.
All told, I could imagine worse obituaries than He was a hopeless oppressor, but he could certainly put away the truffle-stuffed grouse.
'This way,' barked Alvantes. He'd ridden some distance in front, past the head of the column. 'Left at the junction.'
I struggled to remember what lay to our left. I vaguely recollected the turn-off he referred to, a dirt track slanting towards the hills. Somewhere in that direction lay the road that skirted the western edge of Altapasaeda, one I'd studiously avoided because it passed so close to…
Of course. The barracks of the Altapasaedan City Guard.
So what did Alvantes want at the barracks? I supposed I'd find out soon enough. Then again, given the difficulty the corner was causing those ahead, it might be a while yet. The Altapasaedan guardsmen had swung round easily, but the change of direction was wreaking confusion amongst the undisciplined Castovalian Irregulars. There followed much swearing and squabbling, at least until Alvantes angrily intervened. By the time we got moving again, it was hard to imagine these were the same men who'd been singing their hearts out mere minutes ago.
As if on cue, the darkening clouds above chose that moment to unburden themselves, further dampening everyone's mood and entirely soaking their bodies. The pace picked up immediately.
The westbound road here was confined by banks of dry earth and shale, already glistening and running in the downpour. We were heading somewhat upward, and it was difficult to see much through the cascading water. I knew it couldn't be far to the barracks, but the journey seemed interminable. Then, from the head of the column, came the beginnings of a ragged cheer — that turned rapidly into murmurs of shock and indignation.
We stopped abruptly.
I couldn't see anything for the blockade of bodies. I turned an inquiring glance on Saltlick, whose extra height should have equated to an increase of perspective. His only reply was a shrug of massive shoulders. I realised he had no idea what he expected to see. Left to rely on patience, I made a few unsuccessful attempts to jump on the spot, drawing irritated looks from those in front.
Alvantes waited just long enough for my clothes to become utterly sodden before he called, 'Move on. Keep your eyes open. Tread quietly.'
We did as instructed, so much as was possible in hammering rain. It was falling so heavily by then that when the barracks came into view, a bleared smudge against the hillside, I couldn't tell what the fuss was about. It took a brief reprieve in the violence of the shower to make me understand.
The building was a heap of blackened timber.
Estrada had dismounted, off to one side of the devastation. I hurried over to her. 'What's happened?' I said. 'Who did this?'
She shook her head. 'I don't know. I don't think Alvantes does either.'
It could have been anyone with a grudge against the guard. That didn't exactly narrow the list. However, another more immediate worry had struck me by then. 'Could they still be here?'
'I doubt it. Look at the damage.'
I did — and I saw what she meant. Even in this downpour, the ruins would still be smoking if the fire were recent.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when Alvantes, behind me, said, 'It was set a day ago, at least. Still, I've sent scouts out.'
I scowled at him. 'So which of your many enemies do you think got there first?'
Speaking to Estrada rather than me, Alvantes said, 'It wasn't anyone who knew what they were doing. I suspect there was rain here yesterday as well. The blaze was doused before it completely took hold and they didn't stay to see the job through.'
'Does that mean we could get some shelter?' Estrada asked hopefully.
'I've set men to clearing out the most suitable rooms.'
'Wait,' I said, more irritable for being ignored, 'what do you mean? Why sit huddling in your burned-down barracks when we could be safe and warm in Altapasaeda?'
Alvantes finally looked at me. 'Where do you think whoever burned it most likely came from?'
'I don't know. Or care. The only thing that's kept me sane these last days is the thought of a warm meal and a soft bed.'
Alvantes wheeled his horse away. 'Then I'm sure that thought can hold you a while longer.'
It wasn't long before the troops had returned a sizeable space to habitability. Even better, the ruined portions had supplied enough dry, relatively uncharred wood for a small fire. With heavy blankets hung over the makeshift doorway — actually a portion of collapsed wall — and the smoke losing itself amidst the cloudladen sky, not even Alvantes could find anything to complain about.
When his men finally declared the room safe and allowed me inside, I was surprised to see the body of what appeared to be a goat spitted over the blaze, filling the room with a mouth-watering odour. Given Alvantes's oft- stated aversion to stealing, it was anyone's guess where it had come from.
Regardless, dinner proved some compensation for my extended drenching. Though the portions of goat meat were on the stingy side, there was plenty of hard bread and a kind of salty porridge. If none of it was particularly appetising, it was warm food on an empty stomach after a wearisome day's walking. Afterwards, I felt somewhat restored, if barely less soggy or badtempered.
Alvantes's first act after dinner was to call a conference in a small and partially collapsed side room. In attendance were Estrada, Sub-Captain Gueverro and two of the guardsmen Alvantes had sent to scout, as well as two representatives from amongst the Irregulars. Practically everyone who was anyone in our party, in fact — except for me.
So that was how it stood. No matter that I'd shed blood in service of the Castoval, no matter that I hadn't stolen anything in days! I still wasn't good enough to be part of Alvantes's precious inner circle.
Looking for someone to complain to, I glanced about for Saltlick. There was no sign of him. I could hear the rain still hammering upon the tiled roof; though it never seemed to bother him, I doubted he'd rather be outside than in. Eager for a task to take my mind off Alvantes and his superciliousness, I decided to track him down.
I slipped beneath the blanket that covered the inner-facing door, drawing my hood up. The barracks, in its unconflagrated state, had consisted of a hollowed square of buildings around a large parade ground. From within that quadrangle, I could see how the north and east wings had been reduced to heaps of collapsed stone and jutting black timbers. On the other two sides, the destruction was more erratic. As Alvantes had suggested, it was clear how the fire and rain had fought over the building.
Apart from the area picked for our lodgings, one other portion had more or less escaped damage. Though its door and windows had also been covered, I could make out the muffled glow of torchlight through the heavy cloth. Even before I drew the curtain, I recognised the musty odours exhaling from within. It was no surprise to see the guard horses housed comfortably in their own stalls.
Four guardsmen were in the process of brushing them down, while half a dozen others laboured in the half- darkness at the far end, where the fire had brought down great portions of roof. They'd already dug free a trapdoor in the cobbled floor and were busy hauling sacks from the depths. Presumably, these underground stores were where the bulk of our evening meal had come from.
As for Saltlick, he'd ensconced himself in the farthest stall, amidst a mound of straw. He was eating grain from a bucket, scooping it in handfuls and emptying it into his maw.
'They're taking care of you, I see.'
Saltlick smiled and nodded. 'Good.'
If his vocabulary had improved over the last weeks, his preferred mode of speech still leaned towards the concise. On those rare occasions I actually wanted to hold a conversation, it was less than helpful.
'Alvantes has called a meeting. Needless to say, we're not invited.' I sat down next to him. 'Another stop on the way to rescuing your people. I hope it's not raining like this where they are. Either way, I doubt they have a roof over their heads or grain to eat.'
Saltlick put down his bucket and looked at me enquiringly.
'I suppose it isn't anyone's fault, really. Of course, the way Alvantes is going on, it could be days before we set out again.'
