She heard the awkward formality in his words and was amused. ‘One of them.’
‘Most of the combatants are not here,’ the sergeant said, nodding towards the village. ‘Occupation will suffice to eliminate the Borderswords as a threat to the Legion, by virtue of holding their families under guard.’
‘That is true, but at the expense of committing a defendable force to oversee those hostages, for an unknown period of time.’
‘Few would resist overmuch,’ the sergeant countered. ‘They are neutral as it stands. Instead, we give them reason to reject that neutrality.’
‘Indeed,’ she agreed.
‘Then I do not understand.’
‘I know,’ she said. ‘And you don’t need to, sergeant. Take your orders and leave it at that.’
‘If we know what we’re about, sir, then there’s less chance of doing the wrong thing.’
‘Sergeant, with what is about to come down to that village, there’s nothing you could do that would earn our wrath.’ She looked across at him. ‘Barring disobeying orders.’
‘We won’t do that, sir,’ the old man said in a growl.
‘Of course you won’t.’ But even as Risp said that, she felt the hollowness to the assertion. It was hard to know where their orders were coming from. Was this still Hunn Raal’s gambit, or had Urusander finally taken to the field? Where was Osserc? For all they knew here, the entire plan might be in ruins somewhere behind them, lying lifeless behind Hunn Raal’s unseeing eyes in some muddy field, or upon the old spikes of the Citadel’s riverwall, making what they were about to do a crime and an inexcusable atrocity. She knew her own unease with what was to come.
There would always be miscalculations in any campaign. The Tiste had faced near disaster against the Forulkan on more than one occasion, when miscommunication or the outright absence of communication had sent elements to the wrong place at the wrong time. There was nothing more difficult than linking up armies and manoeuvring such large forces into position. Ensuring that they acted effectively and in concert was a commander’s greatest challenge. It was no accident that commanders were at their most comfortable when they could amass all the forces at their disposal. Of course, once battle commenced, everything changed. Upon the field, the company captains and their corps of officers were crucial.
She looked again at the distant keep, and that lone light upon the top floor. Had someone fallen asleep in a soft chair, with the candle burning down? Or was there a guard stationed in the tower, acting as a lookout? The latter did not seem likely, as light in the chamber would make it impossible to see anything outside. Perhaps some cleric or scholar was working through the night, muttering under his or her breath and cursing failing eyesight and aching bones. Risp could feel the chill in the wind coming down from the mountains to the north.
The Borderswords were welcome to this remote, cold place.
‘Sir,’ said the old sergeant.
‘What now?’
‘Once we are done here, will we be returning to besiege House Dracons?’
She recalled the day and the night during which they had camped at the very edge of the estate. The Lord’s Houseblades had ridden out in strength, as if to challenge this unwelcome army camped on its doorstep, but Esthala had been indifferent to the gesture, instead sending a rider to the Houseblade Commander, assuring him that her Legion units intended no violence upon the holdings of the Consort.
The Houseblade captain had been unappeased by these pronouncements, and had maintained his forces in readiness for all the time that the Legion remained on Dracons land, even going so far as to ride parallel to their column for a time, once it resumed its northward journey. Lord Draconus had assembled a formidable company, heavily armoured and impressively disciplined. Risp was in truth relieved that the Consort’s Houseblades were not among Esthala’s targets.
‘Sir?’
‘No, sergeant, we will not be returning to House Dracons. We have done what was needed. We have left a column trail back to his estate.’
There was a sound from the road and Risp glanced over to the vanguard and saw the standards of House Dracons being raised aloft.
The sergeant swore under his breath, and then said, ‘With us out of uniform, I was assuming we’d be laying the blame on the Deniers. Now I see how this will be played.’
‘We need deception,’ Risp said. ‘More to the point, we need our enemies divided and at each other’s throat.’
‘Then there are to be survivors.’
