“You know you made them. That’s half the battle.” I paused before considering my next words. “Besides, if you fuck up, then I’ll have to come back and kick your ass.”
Ganyir glared at me before almost breaking into a smile. Still, he could hardly hide his mirth because the crow’s feet around his eyes pinched together. “You are a brave one, Swordslinger. I wouldn’t want to earn your ire.”
After an hour, Tahlis reappeared, erupting out of the road just in front of a startled Onvar. The guildmaster laughed at his student’s discomfort, then gathered us around.
“The fortress is operated by a skeleton staff,” he said. “Most of what’s left of the army must be down in the city. If we can get past the gates, then we should be able to take control.”
“Let’s get to it,” I said. “Tahlis, you and Ganyir shouldn’t be at the front; there’s too much risk that someone will recognize you. I know that you’re used to leading, not following, but you should be at the back with your hoods firmly up, at least until the gate is open.”
We formed into something resembling a military column, with Vesma, Kumi, and I at the front. Ours weren’t faces people in the fortress had seen before, so we could pretend to be Gonki soldiers without someone realizing we were from the other side. Kegohr was too conspicuous, with his tusks and gray skin, so he joined the heavily hooded contingent at the back, while the initiates filled the space in between.
We marched up the road, weapons sheathed or resting on our shoulders. Kumi whistled as we went, a tune that rolled with the rhythm of the sea, and we used it to keep pace. Soon, we stood in front of the fortress’ main gates.
“Who goes there?” A man in a guard’s uniform leaned out of a window above the gates. Bags hung under his eyes, and he yawned widely as he looked down at us.
“We’ve come from the village,” I said. “The fighting is over. Everyone else has returned to the city.”
“You got those traitors?” the guard asked.
“Me?” I said. “I wish! Reckon they’d have made me a lord if I could do that.”
“All right, smart ass,” the guard said. “You know what I mean. Did the cult win?”
“Of course we did. Lord Targin’s got quite a haul of prisoners, not to mention some heads that’ll be going on pikes. One or two of the rebels might have got away, but things never go as smoothly as the commanders predict, do they?”
“Damn right. So, what are you lot doing back here?”
“Been sent to relieve the watch. Which I guess means you get to go rest.”
“Thank the gods for that. You took your sweet time getting here.”
“Couldn’t come before the battle was won.”
“That should have been yesterday.”
“You mean because that’s what the commanders predicted?”
The guard laughed bitterly, then looked back along the line. His gaze fell on Kegohr, whose face was hidden by his hood but whose bulk still made him stand out amid the initiates. Past him, Ganyir was equally imposing.
“Couple of big guys you’ve got there,” the guard said. “Surprised they’ve sent them back for this instead of keeping them to help tear down the temple.”
“You mean Toji and Gronk?” I said, quickly thinking about excuses. “They’re not the brightest lads; both managed to hurt themselves in the fight. Our captain sent them back in case they did something stupid in front of his Lordship.”
“Leg hurt bad,” Kegohr said in a deep growl. “Toji need to practice club more.”
The guard laughed again, a vicious rather than a joyful sound.
“All right,” he said. “I’ll come on down and open the gates.”
He disappeared from view. I looked back across my band of friends and allies, checking that they were ready for whatever happened next. The further in we got without drawing attention, the easier this was likely to be. Everyone looked ready, with eyes alert and hands gripping their weapons. Ganyir looked particularly tense, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed.
Chains rattled, and wood creaked somewhere inside the gatehouse. The gates, great slabs of ancient oak bound together in iron, swung slowly back to reveal the portal beyond. A cluster of figures stood in the sunlit courtyard at the far side of the gatehouse, watching us. They must have been the guards we had been sent to relieve, or perhaps simply cult members who had been passing through on their way to other parts of the fortress and wanted to hear about the battle.
We walked down the short length of tunnel that was the gateway, our footsteps echoing back to us from the stone walls. Dark, narrow apertures were set in the ceiling above, holes through which rocks or boiling oil could be dropped on any intruders who fought their way through the gate. The lack of projectiles showed that our story had really worked.
At the far side of the gateway, the guard who had challenged us was waiting alongside half a dozen of his comrades. More looked out at us from windows and doorways. They wore the robes of guildsmen and city guards, yellows and browns with baggy pants and closely fitted turbans. On the left breast, each wore a triangle of black cloth, stitched on with varying degrees of skill. I realized that I had seen it on the robes of some of the soldiers we had fought, but not on any of the robes we had managed to salvage.
As we emerged back into daylight, swift footsteps came up behind me. Ganyir pushed past between me and Kumi and walked up to the guard.
“What is this?” He tugged at the corner of the black triangle on the man’s chest.
My stomach sank. I had hoped to get deeper into the fortress before any kind of confrontation took place. That was clearly not going to happen.
I shifted my feet into a fighting stance, trying not to be too obvious about
