The Crimson Campaign

He pushed it away. “You’ll get cold,” he said.

She pointed at him.

“It’s summer, damn it. I’m fine.”

She drew the duster back up over his chest.

Again, he gave it back to her. “I’m not a child.”

Something seemed to light in her eyes at that. She pulled the duster off him and threw it to the ground.

“Pole, what the…” His next words were lost in his own strangled cry as she lifted one leg over the hammock and straddled him, sitting directly on his lap. His heart beat a little faster as she wiggled her ass to get comfortable. In the closeness of the niche, their faces were almost touching. “Pole…,” he said, suddenly breathless. The mala pipe, and even the little ball of mala in his hands, were suddenly forgotten.

Her tongue darted out and wet her lips. She seemed poised, watchful — like an animal.

Taniel almost didn’t hear the sound of the door to the house upstairs being thrown open. Feet thumped on the floorboards. A woman began shouting in Gurlish.

Ka-poel lowered her head. Taniel’s shoulders flexed, pushing him toward her.

“Captain Taniel Two-Shot!” The stairs rattled under a pair of determined boots. A woman in a dress suit, hat in hand, entered the room. “Captain!” she said. “Captain, I…”

She froze when she saw Taniel with Ka-poel in his lap. Taniel felt the color rise in his cheeks. A quick glance at Ka-poel. She gave him a small, knowing smile, but annoyance flashed in her eyes. She rolled off of him and swept her duster off the floor and over her shoulders in one quick movement.

The woman turned to one side, staring at the far wall. “Sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t know you were indisposed.”

“She’s not undressed,” Taniel retorted. His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Who the pit are you?”

The woman gave a slight bow. “I am Fell Baker, undersecretary for the Holy Warriors of Labor.” Despite having found them in a compromising situation, she didn’t seem the least bit embarrassed.

“The union? How the pit did you find me?” Taniel pulled himself to a sitting position in the hammock, though it made his stomach turn something fierce. He wondered how long it had been since he ate.

“I’m Ricard Tumblar’s aide, sir. He sent me to find you. He would very much like to meet with you.”

“Tumblar? Don’t know the name.” He settled back into the hammock and eyed Ka-poel. She’d sat on the stool on the far side of the mala den, tapping his pipe against her palm as she studied the undersecretary.

Fell raised an eyebrow. “He’s the head of the union, sir.”

“I don’t care.”

“He’s asked me to extend to you an invitation to lunch.”

“Go away.”

“He says there’s a great deal of money at stake.”

“I don’t care.”

Fell examined him for a few moments before turning and heading up the creaking stairs just as abruptly as she’d arrived. The hushed sound of voices came down through the floor. They were speaking in Gurlish. Taniel glanced at Ka-poel. She returned his stare for a moment, then winked.

What the pit?

A few moments later the undersecretary came back downstairs.

“Sir, it appears you’re out of money.”

Taniel looked for his mala pipe. Oh. Ka-poel still had it. Right.

“Take that from her and give it to me, would you?” Taniel said to Fell.

Fell faced Ka-poel. The two women exchanged a glance that seemed full of meaning. Taniel didn’t like that at all.

The undersecretary clasped her hands together. “I will not, sir.” She crossed the room in two strides and grabbed Taniel by the chin, forcing his face toward her. Taniel grasped the woman’s wrist, but Fell was stronger than she looked. She examined his eyes.

“Let go of me, or I will bloody well kill you,” Taniel growled.

Fell took her hands away and stepped back. “How much have you smoked since you got here?”

“Don’t know,” Tamas grumbled. Ka-poel hadn’t so much as moved when the undersecretary had rushed him. Some help she was.

“Eight pounds of the stuff in four days. That’s what the owner told me.”

Taniel shrugged.

“That’s enough to kill a warhorse, sir.”

Taniel sniffed. “Didn’t seem to do much.”

A perplexed look crossed Fell’s face. She opened her mouth, shut it again, and then said, “Didn’t do much? I…” She grasped her hat and went back upstairs, only to return again after a few minutes.

“The owner,” Fell said, “insists he watched you smoke it himself. I examined your eyes. Not even a hint of mala poisoning. Pit, I’ve probably gotten mala poisoning just standing in the smoke and talking to you. You’re god-touched.”

Taniel surged to his feet. One moment he was in the hammock, and the next he had Fell by the lapels with both fists. His head spun, his vision warped, and his hands trembled with rage. “I am not god-touched,” Taniel said. “I’ve not… I’m…”

“Kindly unhand me, sir,” Fell said gently.

Taniel felt his hands drop to his sides. He took a step back and mumbled to himself.

“I’ll give you a moment to clean up,” Fell said. “We’ll get you a new jacket on the way to see Ricard.”