The Crimson Campaign

One of the provosts put his full weight behind his fist and slammed it into Taniel’s jaw. Taniel’s head snapped to the side and his vision spun. The provost became a fuzzy blur. Taniel hawked a wad of bloody phlegm at the provost, and the man drew back for another punch.

Ket held up a hand. “That’s not necessary, provost.” She rounded on Taniel. “Is this a joke to you? You’re looking at being executed!”

“For what?” Taniel scoffed. “Holding the line?”

“For what?” she echoed incredulously. Ket stopped her pacing to face him. “Insubordination, conduct unfitting an officer, disobeying direct orders. Physically assaulting an officer. The way you act verges on treason.”

“Go to the pit,” Taniel said. He was proud when he didn’t flinch at the provost coming toward him.

Ket stopped the man again.

“Keep it up,” Taniel said. “I can do this all night. Treason? Is it treason to be the only officer in this bloody army that seems to care about winning a battle? Is it treason to rally the men? Give them something to stand up for? You talk to me about treason, when the trumpets sound a retreat every time we’re about to win a battle.”

“That’s a lie!” Ket stepped forward, and for a moment Taniel thought she’d hit him herself. “We sound the alarm when the battle goes against us. You’re down on the lines. You don’t see the desperation of the fight where you are.”

Taniel leaned forward, straining at his bonds. “I don’t see it because I’m winning.” He leaned back. “You’re scared of me. Have you gone over to the Kez? Is that why? You’re scared I’ll — ”

Ket didn’t stop the provost this time. Taniel’s words were cut off by the blow, and he was genuinely surprised to find his teeth still there when his head stopped ringing.

Taniel tasted blood. He swallowed. “Is that why you arrested me in secret?” Taniel spoke around a swollen tongue. “Had me dragged through the camp in a hood? So no one could see me?” Taniel snorted and looked the provost in the eye, daring him to hit again.

General Ket scratched at her ear. “You are very popular,” she admitted as she began to pace again. “But even the popular — someone like you, who the common soldiers call a hero — need to be disciplined. Otherwise the army falls apart. It’s unfortunate, but that’s the way it is. I’d make you a public display, but the other generals don’t agree with me. They think if the men see you flogged, it’ll hurt morale and, Kresimir knows, it’s already low enough.”

“So you’re not going to kill me.”

“No. At least, not yet. This is your one and only warning.”

“And you expect an apology?”

“Indeed. Several, in fact. Starting with Major Doravir, and ending with me.”

Taniel shrugged. “Not going to happen.”

“Excuse me?” Ket’s eyebrows rose in genuine surprise.

“I nearly killed a god. I’ve slaughtered dozens of Privileged. Maybe over a hundred. I’ve lost count. In the absence of Field Marshal Tamas — by the way, why was I told he was dead? I have it from the mouth of a god that he’s not. Ah, yes. The god we have in our own camp. The god that the high command are pretending doesn’t exist.

“Where was I? In the absence of Tamas, I’m your best tool against the Kez. I’m rallying the men and killing the remaining Kez Privileged and Wardens. So no. I won’t bloody well apologize to anyone. My father didn’t abide fools. I may not like my father much, but we share that in common.”

General Ket remained silent through the whole speech. Taniel was surprised by that. He expected to be cut off by a provost’s fist halfway in. He was ready to spit the words through his broken jaw if he had to.

“Tamas is lost to us,” Ket said. “There’s no way he’ll survive in Kez. It’s better to assume he’s dead. And as for Mihali… if he wasn’t so popular among the men, we’d have him removed. He’s a very persuasive madman, nothing more.”

“Then why are we fighting this war at all?” Taniel asked. “If Kresimir is on the Kez side, we can’t win. Unless. Ah. Unless you don’t think Kresimir is there at all. You don’t think any of this supernatural stuff is real.”

“I believe what I see with my own eyes,” Ket said. “I see two opposing armies. If there was a god present, we’d all be dead. Now.” She paused to drag a chair over in front of Taniel and sat down, crossing her legs. “The threat of physical pain obviously means nothing to you. Death?” She examined him for a moment. “No, not that either.”

She continued. “This is what’s going to happen: Your records will be transferred to the Third Brigade. You’ll keep your rank — but commanding a company of picked riflemen who will take on the tasks I assign. No more of this mucking about on the front line. You’re not an infantryman.”

“You want your own pet powder mage, eh?”

Ket went on as if she hadn’t noticed him speak. “You’ll apologize to Major Doravir. In public. After which you will read a prepared note — again, in public — that apologizes for your misconduct and swear on your father’s grave that you will keep the regulations of the Adran army.”

“I’ll do no such thing.”