woman taken with me—’
‘Can’t do it.’
‘You don’t know what I’m going to ask—’
‘Yes I do, and I can’t do it. Stranger-Come-Knocking, that big bastard who took you prisoner? Man’s mad as a grass helmet. He don’t answer to me. Don’t answer to nothing. You’ve no idea what it’s cost me getting you. I can’t afford to buy anyone else.’
‘Then I won’t help you.’
Dow clicked his tongue. ‘Sharp is good, but you don’t want to get so sharp you cut your own throat. You won’t help me, you’re no use to me at all. Might as well send you back to Stranger-Come-Fucking, eh? The way I see it, you got two choices. Back to your father and share in the peace, or back to your friend and share in … whatever she’s got coming. Which appeals?’
Finree thought of Aliz’ scared breath, in the darkness. Her whimper as Finree’s hand slipped out of hers. She thought of that scarred giant, smashing his own man’s head apart against the wall. She wished she was brave enough to have tried to call the bluff, at least. But who would be?
‘My father,’ she whispered, and it was the most she could do to stop herself crying with relief.
‘Don’t feel bad about it.’ Black Dow drew his murderer’s grin one more time. ‘That’s the choice I’d have made. Happy fucking journey.’
The bag came down over her head.
*
Craw waited until Shivers had bundled the hooded girl through the door before leaning forward, one finger up, and gently asking his question. ‘Er … what’s going on, Chief?’
Dow frowned at him. ‘You’re supposed to be my Second, old man. You should be the last one questioning me.’
Craw held up his palms. ‘And I will be. I’m all for peace, believe me, just might help if I understood why you want it of a sudden.’
‘Want?’ barked Dow, jerking towards him like a hound got the scent. ‘
‘Right.’ Craw cleared his throat, rightly wishing he hadn’t asked the question. ‘Right y’are.’
‘But that’s being Chief, ain’t it?’ snarled Dow in his face. ‘A dancing fucking procession o’ things you don’t want to do! If I’d known what it meant when I took the chain I’d have tossed it in the river along with the Bloody-Nine. Threetrees warned me, but I didn’t listen. There’s no curse like getting what you want.’
Craw winced. ‘So … why, then?’
‘Because the dead know I’m no peacemaker but I’m no idiot either. Your little friend Calder may be a pissing coward but he’s got a point. It’s a damn fool risks his life for what he can get just by the asking. Not everyone’s got my appetite for the fight. Men are getting tired, the Union are too many to beat and in case you hadn’t noticed we’re trousers down in a pit full of bloody snakes. Ironhead? Golden? Stranger-Come-Bragging? I don’t trust those bastards further’n I can piss with no hands. Better finish this up now while we can call it a win.’
‘Fair point,’ croaked Craw.
‘Got what I want there’d be no bloody talk at all.’ Dow’s face twitched, and he looked over at Ishri, leaning in the shadows against the wall, face a blank, black mask. He ran his tongue around the inside of his sneering mouth and spat. ‘But calmer heads have prevailed. We’ll try peace on, see whether it chafes. Now get that bitch back to her father ’fore I change my mind and cut the bloody cross in her for the fucking exercise.’
Craw edged for the door sideways, like a crab. ‘On my way, Chief.’
Hearts and Minds
‘How long should we spend out here, Corporal?’
‘As short a time as is possible without disgrace, Yolk.’
‘How long’s that?’
‘Until it’s too dark for me to see your gurning visage would be a start.’
‘And we patrol, do we?’
‘No, Yolk, we’ll just walk a few dozen strides and sit down for a while.’
‘Where will we find to sit that isn’t wet as an otter’s—’
‘Shh,’ hissed Tunny, waving at Yolk to get down. There were men in the trees on the other side of the rise. Three men, and two of them in Union uniforms. ‘Huh.’ One was Lance Corporal Hedges. A squinty, mean-spirited rat of a man who’d been with the First for about three years and thought himself quite the rogue but was no better than a nasty idiot. The kind of bad soldier who gives proper bad soldiers a bad name. His gangly sidekick was unfamiliar, probably a new recruit. Hedges’ version of Yolk, which was truly a concept too horrifying to entertain.
They both had swords drawn and pointed at a Northman, but Tunny could tell right off he was no fighter. Dressed in a dirty coat with a belt around it, a bow over one shoulder and some arrows in a quiver, no other weapon visible. A hunter, maybe, or a trapper, he looked somewhat baffled and somewhat scared. Hedges had a black fur in one hand. Didn’t take a great mind to work it all out.
‘Why, Lance Corporal Hedges!’ Tunny grinned wide as he stood and strolled down the bank, his hand loose on the hilt of his sword, just to make sure everyone realised he had one.
