The Crimson Campaign

He arrived just after midnight. There were sentries stationed a half mile out from the Kez camp. If the Kez operated anything like the Adran army, many of the sentries would be Knacked — men who could see in the dark or hear quiet noises and had the third eye. Taniel had forgotten to ask if the spell worked against the third eye.

Or if he made sounds when he walked.

He stopped a few dozen yards from the closest sentry and poured a measure of black powder across the back of his hand. A single, long snort and the powder was gone.

Taniel dusted off his nose and crouched in a shallow streambed. There wasn’t much cover to speak of in the valley. What little brush there was had been stripped by the Adran camp for burning or to make space for tents or just because soldiers got bored. Taniel could smell that a latrine had been dug nearby.

He measured the space between the two closest sentries. Fifty paces, give or take. He headed for the gap.

A twig snapped beneath his foot, and one of the sentries turned toward Taniel.

“Password!” the sentry demanded in Kez.

The sentry waited for a few moments. The barrel of his musket wavered, and he squinted into the dark.

“Powell?” the sentry called. “Powell!”

“Heh?”

The reply came from less than ten feet away. Taniel could feel his heart beating in his throat.

“You see anyone out there?”

“What kind of fool question is that? I’d a-raised the alarm if I did.”

“I thought I heard something. Coulda been a spy.”

“Idiot. If it was a spy, he knows I’m here now.”

“Oh.” The first sentry seemed pleased with himself. “Then we scared him off, did we?”

“By Kresimir, you’re daft. Just watch the night.”

Taniel skirted the spot he’d heard the voice come from. Even with his Marked eyesight he couldn’t make out a figure in the darkness. The sentry must have been damned good at hiding.

Taniel passed a few dozen more sentries without incident and then he was in the heart of the Kez camp. He wasn’t sure when Mihali’s sorcerous invisibility would cease, so he did his best to keep low as he crept through the camp.

It was desolate. In the Adran camp there was always someone awake. Men telling stories or women doing laundry, no matter the hour. The fires were kept going most of the night, and there was always the hum of quiet voices. The Kez camp, however…

The tents were in perfectly straight lines, giving Taniel good vision down the aisles. He didn’t spot a soul for five minutes, when he finally caught sight of a squad of Kez guards. They marched double-time through the center of the camp, eyes straight ahead, muskets held over their heads. It looked more like they were being punished than that they were on guard duty.

Taniel avoided the few patrols and made his way toward the rear of the camp. It wasn’t hard to find his objective.

The command tent was as big as a city administration building and was made up of a dozen smaller tents. Guards were posted at even intervals around the entire tent complex. Light shone through the walls, and Taniel’s Marked hearing could make out the sound — if not the words themselves — of heated argument.

Someone was still up. That suited Taniel fine.

He hunkered down behind a soldier’s tent and watched the main entrance. He didn’t need anything fancy. Just someone who’d know their way around the Kez camp. A high-ranking officer would be the best.

It didn’t take long before whatever argument had been taking place died down. Five minutes later, officers began exiting the tent.

Taniel watched them go, noting what direction they went.

A major. Another major. A colonel — good. A general. Even better.

He shifted in his hiding spot, ready to follow the general at a distance, when someone else caught his eye.

Taniel recognized the man. Field Marshal Goutlit — Tine’s replacement. Tamas had always referred to Goutlit as a competent bureaucrat, a man who thought of losses as nothing more than numbers on paper and had no qualms about sending ten thousand men to their deaths if it would win him even a trivial victory.

Goutlit immediately headed south, toward the rear of the Kez camp. One of the guards broke off from the command tent and followed.

So did Taniel.

Goutlit’s sleeping quarters was a farmhouse only a few hundred yards from the command tent. The field marshal went inside while the guard took up a station beside the front door.

Taniel rounded the farmhouse once. Two windows, both with shutters fastened tight. No other door but the front.

He pressed himself up against the wall of the farmhouse and crept back around to the front. A hand over the guard’s mouth and a knife between the ribs and into the man’s left lung was enough to keep him from making noise. Taniel removed the knife and rammed it into the guard’s heart, then slowly lowered the body to the ground.

“Pouli,” Goutlit called from inside. “Get in here.”

The door creaked when it opened. The farmhouse was dark but for a light coming from the only other room.