The Crimson Campaign

“Pouli,” Goutlit said from the other room. “They didn’t bring the girl I asked for. Damned quartermasters can’t do a thing right. Go and fetch her this instant. It’s late enough as it is, I want to be asleep in half an hour.”

Taniel grabbed the dead guard by the belt and dragged him inside, then closed the door.

“I said this instant, man. If I have to — ”

Goutlit came out of his room carrying a lantern. He was a balding man of medium height and square shoulders and a strong gaze. He’d removed his jacket and was shaking his head, obviously in a bout of anger. He froze when he saw the body of his guard.

Taniel was on him in a moment, bloody knife in one hand, the other pressing over Goutlit’s mouth to cut off a strangled cry.

“Shh,” Taniel said. “Quiet now, or I cut out your heart.” He waved the knife in front of Goutlit’s eyes. “This is how it works: If you call out, I kill you. If you try to run, I kill you. I’m faster and stronger than you and I won’t hesitate. Do you understand?”

Behind Taniel’s hand, Goutlit whispered, “I only speak Kez.”

“Don’t lie to me. I met you years ago at a ball thrown by Manhouch and you spoke Adran fine. Now tell me, do you understand?”

Goutlit inhaled sharply. “Yes.”

Taniel stepped away from Goutlit, but watched him carefully out of the corner of his eye. He checked outside the door. No alarm. No one suspicious that the guard was not at his post.

“Can you see me?”

“What?” Goutlit said. “Of course.”

So Mihali’s invisibility was gone for certain.

Goutlit slowly sagged into a chair. “Who are you?” he asked in Adran. “Are you here to kill me? I have money. I can make you a rich man.”

“I don’t care about your money,” Taniel said. “I won’t kill you if you cooperate.”

Goutlit, Taniel remembered his father saying, was not a brave man. His strength was arithmetic. He stayed as far from the fighting as possible and only engaged the enemy when he had overwhelming force.

“I will not betray my country,” Goutlit said, chin up.

Taniel left the dead guard and pounced on Goutlit. The man let out a high whimper and tried to press himself into his chair. “If you don’t help me, I won’t think any more about snuffing out your life than you would of killing a mouse in your pantry.”

Another whimper.

“No need to betray anything,” Taniel said. “No one will ever question your loyalty. Though you may want to come up with some reason as to why Pouli here wound up dead.” Taniel left Goutlit, smelling mildly like piss, in his chair and finished getting Pouli’s boots off and then took the man’s pants and jacket. They’d be a bit too big, but they’d have to do.

“Tell me about Kresimir,” Taniel said.

Goutlit remained silent.

“The god,” Taniel said roughly, “living in your camp. Where is he?”

“He’s living in the old keep. About a mile south of here. He was in Budwiel, living in the mayor’s mansion, but two days ago it was destroyed by Adran sorcery.”

Taniel chuckled. “Adran sorcery, huh? Does the General Staff believe that?”

Goutlit licked his lips. Enough of an answer.

“So he’s in Midway Keep?”

Goutlit said, “That’s it.”

“Guards?”

“Prielights.”

Elite guards of the Kresim Church. As far as Taniel knew, the Church had made no public proclamation about the war. It seemed like they were ready to defend their god, though. “How many?”

“I don’t know.”

“Inside or out?”

“Both.”

“Does Kresimir ever come into the camp?”

Goutlit shook his head. “Never. We always go to him.”

“Is it true he wears a mask with no right eyehole?”

“Yes.”

Taniel tongued his teeth. Interesting.

“Who are you?” Goutlit asked as Taniel put on the dead guard’s pants.

Taniel tightened his belt. “Change your pants. You smell like piss. And get your jacket.”

Goutlit’s hands shook as he changed his clothes. Taniel watched, just to be sure the man wouldn’t try to slip out a window.

Taniel spotted the liquor cabinet in the corner. He crossed to it and found a bottle of Starlish whiskey, pouring out half a measure. He held the glass out to Goutlit.

The Kez field marshal drank it hungrily in two great gulps, then doubled over coughing. Taniel cringed and listened for any voices outside the farmhouse. Nothing.

“You’re him, aren’t you?” Goutlit asked.

“Who?”

“The eye behind the flintlock. Taniel Two-Shot.”

Taniel felt his chest grow cold. So. The rumors Mihali had heard were true. Kresimir was looking for him. “Let’s go,” Taniel said, shouldering the guard’s musket. “Remember — any false word or movement and you are a dead man.”

Goutlet straightened his jacket. The whiskey seemed to have given him courage. “What do you want of me?”

Taniel opened the front door. The god was coughing blood at night, Mihali had said.

“You’re going to help me steal Kresimir’s bedsheets.”

CHAPTER 36

“Are you sure this is wise, sir?” Olem asked. “We’re awfully close to the city.”