'We've no proof he's anything but Beje's man,' replied Anji, equally softly. 'Not my mother's. Not my uncle's. He's served faithfully enough. Let it be for now.' He picked up his cup, gesturing to the captains. 'Now. About our lines of supply. We must not strip what remains in the countryside and the towns lest the population starve. Our task is twofold. Obviously, we must hunt down and destroy the remnants of Lord Radas's army, any companies or
captains who might dream of restoring the army. This could take months, or even years. But we cannot achieve these objectives if those we've fought to protect die. People are afraid to return to their villages. Supplies are low everywhere. Reserves are depleted. People cannot plant until the rains, and then must hope for an uneventful growing season while waiting for the crops to ripen.'
'So you're saying we'll be eating a lot of se leaves?' asked one of the Olossi captains, and men chuckled.
' ' Better to live on sour se leaves than die with your hand in an empty rice bowl,'' Anji replied to approving laughter, having learned at least one common Hundred saying. 'Even if all that goes well, which it will not, for you can be sure no battle plan survives contact with the enemy, then what about Wedrewe? Captain Arras?'
Arras rose. If some regarded him with suspicion, the rest waited to hear what he had to say. 'Wedrewe is where all the orders came from, although I never went there myself. More cohorts will be training there, and I'm cursed sure all the coin and precious loot and best silks were sent there, so no doubt they guard a healthy treasury. The're's also Walshow. That's where many cohorts were raised, including mine. It's isolated, hard to reach, and easy for folk to scatter into the wilderness and hide should they be attacked.'
Arras kept a foot pressed against the jeweler's chest, keeping track of what was, after all, the prize that had earned him Anji's acceptance.
Anji was standing next to the table, his own boots blocking a gap where two small jeweler's chests bound by chains rested under the table. Joss's heart took a sudden lurch; he sank down on his stool as flashes of memory blinded and deafened him: the billowing cloak as bright as sunlight; Lord Radas's limp body; the way one arm, stuck in rigor, had seemed impossible to cover with dirt, fingers clutching for air as Joss had ruthlessly buried him.
'We cannot relax our vigilance,' Anji was saying. 'Only six of the demons have been killed, while three remain at large.' He loosed a glance at Joss. 'The cloak of Sun will rise to corrupt another man, who can take control of remnants of the army.'
'Hold on,' murmured Joss. 'I only know of four.' Anji had killed Earth; Masar had unclasped Blood; Shai and Zubaidit had
killed Night and given the cloak to Arras. Joss had released Sun. 'How did there get to be six? We agreed no hunting beyond those allied with Radas and Night.'
Anji was in many ways an ordinary-looking man, if you surveyed what appeared on the surface: Of medium height and neither slender or stocky, he was strong with the fitness that comes from constant relentless movement. He had the broad cheekbones of his mother's people and the hooked nose common in the empire. But the land cannot be understood with so cursory an inspection. Nor could a man. Handsome eyes redeemed his face, but that was not what commanded the eye. His gaze was as bright as steel, and it penetrated not to your heart or mind, as the gaze of Guardians did, but to your gut, where you decided not just whether to trust this man but whether to place your life and welfare in his hands. He had powerful hands, not big but graceful and masterful, a man who held on to what he possessed and never let go.
Once Anji got hold of the Hundred, why should he let go? The Qin soldiers were conquerors, weren't they? That's what they trained from boyhood to be. Brutal. Effective. Relentless. Utterly reasonable, with those cheerful grins and easy laughs.
Anji's gaze narrowed as he studied Joss studying him. 'I haven't finish briefing my captains,' he said as Sengel took a step closer to Joss. 'Did you have a report the officers need to hear, Commander?'
Maybe such thoughts were crazy, an artifact of walking the altar. Maybe Lord Radas's poison was corrupting his mind. Maybe he was just exhausted after two days without sleep. 'I need to talk to you privately. After your council. For now, I'd welcome a chance to rest.'
'Sengel will show you to where the reeves are camping,' said Anji.
Sengel smiled that easy Qin smile and walked away with Joss as if they were old comrades accustomed to walking out in company.
'You did well in Nessumara,' said Joss.
'I did what needed doing,' remarked Sengel.
'There are three chests under the awning. Wasn't one already taken to Olossi?'
'Toughid died in High Haldia getting the cloak off a demon calling himself Lord Bevard.'
Toughid!' It was impossible to grasp that Toughid, with whom he'd so recently argued — as much as you could argue with the Qin, who receded before disagreement until you realized you had nothing to push against — was dead.
Sengel's stride betrayed no weakness. His expression betrayed no sentiment. 'The chest arrived midday soon after our victory. Here are your reeves, including the ones who brought the chest.' He gestured toward an encampment set up within the boundary of a shallow ditch and berm, dug in haste by Lord Radas's soldiers. 'I'll return to Captain Anji.'
'One question, Chief Sengel.'
'What's that?'
'Whyever would you think Tohon could be your enemy?'
The man blinked, taken by surprise. 'Tohon?'
'Just because a man expresses a desire to look in on a badly injured comrade before he gives a report doesn't mean he's not a loyal soldier.'
Sengel brushed a hand over his creased brow, and Joss realized the man was likely exhausted, held under a taut rein. 'Commander Joss, with all respect, you do not understand the factions within the Qin. Nor are we likely to explain them. For we're not in Qin lands anymore, are we?'
'Are we?' Joss asked sharply.
At once, he was sorry he had spoken so recklessly. Sengel smiled with a grace and speed that was frightening. How could you tell if a man was sincere when he could smile like that no matter what you said to him?
'I'll leave you with your reeves,' Sengel said. 'Commander Anji will come by later to offer thanks for their good work. And to let you know what needs doing tomorrow.'
With that, he walked away.
Lord Bevard, wearing the cloak of Leaf. That still only made five.
Joss scrambled down to a makeshift encampment where about forty off-duty reeves had set up awnings. They were a mix of people he knew and others he did not, mingling with the comfortable familiarity of folk who did the same work and knew the man or woman standing beside them would understand their complaints.
'Joss! The hells! What happened to you?' Peddonon strode forward with a big grin. 'You look like a gods- rotted lilu come
to lure us to our deaths, although in a most pleasurable manner, I am sure. Die with a smile on your face, that's what I say.'
Reeves slapped him on the back or embraced him, as they chose. Even sharp-tongued Nallo looked not displeased to see him. She might even have looked startled.
'Cordial for the man who killed that gods-rotted lilu, Lord Radas,' called Peddonon.
Cheers and whoops rose. Reeves he didn't know grasped his arm. One attractive young woman offered a juicy kiss, which made everyone shout with laughter.
'The hells!' laughed Joss, pulling away as he felt the stirring of an all too familiar arousal. 'Cordial for everyone.'
But as they filled their cups from a barrel, he frowned. Looking around, he discovered a small chest — not one bound with chains but simply a chest in which a man or woman might store coin or jewelry or spices — cast aside in one of the ditches. Spoils of war. He hoisted it up and slapped it down on the ground under the shade of one of the awnings.
'Heya, all of you! Sit down!'
They weren't as disciplined as Anji's troops. They grabbed cordial and passed around a basket of whiteheart, whose ripe shells could be pried apart for the fragrant, sweet flesh within. Sucking down the juice and licking grimy
