Memories of Ice

The Barghast did not seem interested in committing to the war beyond the liberation of Capustan. They wanted the bones of their gods. They were about to get them, and once that happened they'd probably head back home.

And if we're then on our own. what will Paran decide? That damned noble looks deathly. The man's sick. His thoughts ride nails of pain, and that ain't good. Ain't good at all.

Boots crunched beside her as someone stepped to the roof's edge. She looked up, to see the red-haired woman Mallet had brought back from almost-dead. A rapier snapped a third of the way down the blade was in her right hand. Her leather armour was in tatters, old blood staining countless rents. There was a brittleness to her expression, as well as something of.. wonder.

Picker straightened. The screams from below were deafening. She moved closer and said, 'Won't be much longer, now. You can see the front ranks of the Barghast from here.' She pointed.

The woman nodded, then said, 'My name is Stonny Menackis.'

'Corporal Picker.'

'I've been talking with Blend.'

'That's a surprise. She ain't the talkative type.'

'She was telling me about the torcs.'

'Was she now? Huh.'

Stonny shrugged, hesitated, then asked, 'Are you … are you sworn to Trake or something? Lots of soldiers are, I gather. The Tiger of Summer, Lord of Battle-'

'No,' Picker growled. 'I'm not. I just figured they were charms — those torcs.'

'So you didn't know that you had been chosen to deliver them. To … to Gruntle …'

The corporal glanced over at the woman. 'That's what's got you kind of confused, is it? Your friend Gruntle. You never would've figured him for what … for whatever he's now become.'

Stonny grimaced. 'Anyone but him, to be honest. The man's a cynical bastard, prone to drunkenness. Oh, he's smart, as far as men go. But now, when I look at him …'

'You ain't recognizing what you see.'

'It's not just those strange markings. It's his eyes. They're a cat's eyes, now, a damned tiger's. Just as cold, just as inhuman.'

'He says he fought for you, lass.'

'I was his excuse, you mean.'

'Can't say as I'd argue there was a difference.'

'But there is, Corporal.'

'If you say so. Anyway, the truth's right there in front of you. In this damned cryptorium of a building. Hood take us, it's there in Gruntle's followers — he ain't the only one all dappled, is he? The man stood between the Pannions and you, and that was a solid enough thing to pull in all the others. Did Treach shape all this? I guess maybe he did, and I guess I played a part in that, too, with me showing up with those torcs on my arm. But now I'm quit of the whole thing and that suits me fine.' And I ain't going to think on it no more.

Stonny was shaking her head. 'I won't kneel to Trake. By the Abyss, I've gone and found myself before the altar of another god — I've already made my choice, and Trake isn't it.'

'Huh. Maybe, then, your god found the whole thing with Gruntle and all that somehow useful. Humans ain't the only ones who spin and play with webs, right? We ain't the only ones who sometimes walk in step, or even work together to achieve something of mutual benefit — without explaining a damned thing to the rest of us. I ain't envying you, Stonny Menackis. It's deadly attention, when it's a god's. But it happens …' Picker fell silent.

Walk in step. Her eyes narrowed. And keeping the rest of us in the dark.

She swung about, searched the group around the tents until she spied Paran. The corporal raised her voice, 'Hey, Captain!'

He looked up.

And how about you, Captain? Keeping secrets, maybe? Here's a hunch for you. 'Any word from Silverfox?' she asked.

The Bridgeburners nearby all fixed their attention on the noble-born officer.

Paran recoiled as if he had been struck. One hand went to his stomach as a spasm of pain took him. Jaws bunching, he managed to lift his head and meet Picker's eyes. 'She's alive,' he grated.

Thought so. You'd been too easy with this by far, Captain. Meaning, you have been keeping things from us. A bad decision. The last time us Bridgeburners was kept in the dark, that dark swallowed damn near every one of us. 'How close? How far away, Captain?'

She could see the effect of her words, yet a part of her was angry, enough to harden herself. Officers always held out. It was the one thing the Bridgeburners had learned to despise the most when it came to their commanders. Ignorance was fatal.