The Crimson Campaign

“The savage girl is no longer to share your room. I don’t approve of such illicit relationships among my officers. Especially not with a savage.”

Taniel sneered. “There’s nothing illicit going on.”

“I wasn’t finished! The girl will be placed with the laundresses of the Third. You’ll be allowed to speak with her ten minutes each day. No more.”

“That’s preposterous!” Taniel leaned forward. “She’s not Adran army, she’s — ”

He was silenced by the provost’s fist. The blow nearly knocked him over, but the other provost stepped up and held the chair steady.

“Do not interrupt me again,” Ket said coldly. “I’ve put up with your insubordination long enough. Rumors are the girl is some kind of sorcerer. I’ll have her watched. If she attempts to leave the camp, she’ll be beaten. If she attempts to find you, she’ll be beaten. Understand? Oh, and before you say anything — yes, I can keep her here. This is a time of war. Conscription is a reality.”

Taniel waited for a few moments before speaking. “I’ll kill any man who lays a hand on her.”

“You make any threat you want, but you can’t protect her all the time. You’ll do all these things for me, or I’ll hand your girl over to the Dredgers. You’ve heard of them, haven’t you? The scum of the Third. Men so low that the Mountainwatch wouldn’t take them. I reform such men, and if I don’t succeed, I execute them.” General Ket stood up and walked over until she was right next to Taniel. She whispered, “I don’t approve of rape, nor encourage it. But I understand it’s a powerful psychological tool, and don’t think I won’t give your little savage girl to the Dredgers to do with what they will.”

Taniel wondered if he could kill her right then. He’d have to use his teeth to do it. Tear out her throat. The provosts could be fast enough to stop him. But it might be worth a try.

“I’m not a monster, Captain. I’m not doing this on a whim. It is my duty to impose order upon this camp and I will do it even if it costs your little savage her innocence. Do you understand?”

Taniel felt the fury leave him. He wouldn’t — he couldn’t subject Ka-poel to that.

“Yes,” he said.

General Ket headed toward the door. “Untie him. Clean him up. He’s confined to quarters until he apologizes to Major Doravir.”

Tamas watched the slow march of his column as they emerged from the trees of Hune Dora Forest and onto the floodplain of the river known locally as the Big Finger.

The plain was perhaps a half mile across, from the forest to the edge of the river. The ground was rocky, but not overly so, and filled with rich, sandy silt. During a wet summer it might have been impassable by large numbers of cavalry and so given them a greater advantage, but as it was, the plain was dry and hard.

The Big Finger was the first in a succession of mountain-fed rivers collectively known as the Fingers of Kresimir. It was deep and fast-flowing and impossible to cross without sturdy rafts that could be pushed across and land on the other side farther downstream. Or by way of the bridge.

The bridge was nowhere to be seen.

Tamas heard the cries of dismay as the news was passed on down the column. He felt a twinge of pain for his men. They were starving, tired, beaten by the heat, and they’d just arrived at their one hope of delivery and found it gone.

They didn’t know that Tamas had ordered the bridge destroyed.

Across the floodplain, near the river, Tamas could see smoldering bonfires. Flanks of meat roasted above them, the last of the horses taken from the Kez a week ago. Enough for a meal for ten thousand men.

Gavril rode across the floodplain, and Tamas noted he’d kept his own horse alive. He gave Tamas a salute, then said loudly, “Damned bridge washed away.”

“Bloody pit!” Tamas slapped a fist into the palm of one hand.

Gavril went on. “We slaughtered the rest of the horses and scouted for wood for rafts. I’ll need men to build them.”

“All right. We’ve got half a day until the Kez reach us. Olem!”

The bodyguard nearly jumped out of his saddle. He brought his horse up alongside Tamas. He’d been hanging back ever since the incident with Vlora.

“Sir?”

“Organize getting the men fed. Gather the officers so I can brief them.”

“Yes, sir.” Olem flicked his reins and headed down the column, slumped in his saddle like a boy whose dog had just died.

Gavril brought his horse up closer to Tamas. “What the pit did you say to that man? I’ve not seen someone look that guilty since the Lady Femore’s face when her husband caught me in bed with her and his sister.”

“I told him I didn’t want him continuing relations with Vlora.”

Tamas watched Olem as he shouted for men to help him distribute food. He’d have to keep it organized. Eleven thousand hungry men were liable to start a riot. “I ordered Vlora to stop as well. She… vehemently… disobeyed.” Tamas couldn’t tolerate that kind of insubordination, not in a time of war. He didn’t know what he was going to do about that. He’d been avoiding it for two days.