likely to blow up in my hands.
I didn’t imagine I’d get answers, even if I was foolish enough to ask the questions. Instead, I snapped a hand at Grenwald, praying it wouldn’t be the last time I’d salute the vainglorious motherfucker, then turned to Adelweid. “Sir, our unit is grouped at the front trench. If you’ll follow me.”
He nodded vaguely toward the major, then fell in line behind me without comment. I took the opportunity to make one. “Sir, now might be a good time to remove any reflective gear you have. That hair clasp in particular will give away our position to any Dren sniper we run into.”
“Thank you for the suggestion, Lieutenant, but my garments will remain as they are.” His voice was every drop as oily as I expected, andhe rubbed at the gleaming bangle possessively. “Our mission would be quite impossible to complete without it. Besides, I have no wish to return to camp victorious, only to discover that someone has made off with the cuff links given to me by the head of the Order of the Twisted Oak.”
Better than not coming back at all, I thought, and better than sacrificing me and my men to your bloated sense of vanity. Although he was right: someone would have stolen them.
By the time we reached the outskirts of camp, the men were in position, weapons at the ready, armor pulled tight. The six of us stood in a circle and I repeated our orders. It was clear they weren’t happy, not with the job and not with Adelweid, but they were professionals and kept quiet. When I was finished, I ordered a last equipment check and then we were up the ladders and alone in the wasteland between our camp and the Dren.
“From here on out, full light and noise restrictions are in effect.” I nodded to Saavedra, his face predictably soot colored. He shifted into a practiced stalk and fifteen seconds later I could barely make him out. Carolinus fell in behind him, and I followed with Adelweid a few steps ahead of me.
Behind me was our crossbowman, Milligan, a bright, decent-natured Tarasaihgn who could prick the Queen’s face on an ochre coin at a hundred paces. I wasn’t sure what good he would do us—it was pretty dark to be sending off bolts. He was calm in a melee at least, nothing special but steady and reliable.
Taking rear was Cilliers, a dour-faced Vaalan giant who smiled little and spoke less. He was about the only man in the company who hadn’t switched exclusively to a trench blade, still carrying a double-edged flamberge across his back, the weapon passed down from father to son since before his ancestors had sworn fealty to the Rigun Throne. His frame was too broad to make him much use for covertoperations, but we’d be happy to have his sword if we needed to make a stand on open ground.
Years of fighting had turned the once lush landscape into a barren desert. Bombardments, artillery and magical, had destroyed most of the vegetation and all fauna of the non-rodent variety. Even the topography had been altered, explosives leveling hills and thrusting up piles of debris to replace them. Beyond any aesthetic concern, the devastation meant there was little cover to be found. Without faceblack, on a moonlit night we were easy prey for any patrol that came within fifty yards.
We needed to move quick and we needed to move quiet. Unsurprisingly, Adelweid was having difficulty with both of these, his gait more appropriate to a morning stroll than our clandestine mission. I winced every time the light caught on his silver and noticed Milligan doing the same. If one of us got bled because this idiot wouldn’t take his jewelry off, I didn’t think I could stop my men from friendly-firing him. I didn’t think I’d try.
After a quarter mile I leaned in close to Adelweid and whispered, “Four hundred yards. Let us know where to set up.”
He pointed to a low hill and responded in a voice that did little to maintain our stealth. “That will do nicely. Take me there, then deploy the
I didn’t imagine I’d get answers, even if I was foolish enough to ask the questions. Instead, I snapped a hand at Grenwald, praying it wouldn’t be the last time I’d salute the vainglorious motherfucker, then turned to Adelweid. “Sir, our unit is grouped at the front trench. If you’ll follow me.”
He nodded vaguely toward the major, then fell in line behind me without comment. I took the opportunity to make one. “Sir, now might be a good time to remove any reflective gear you have. That hair clasp in particular will give away our position to any Dren sniper we run into.”
“Thank you for the suggestion, Lieutenant, but my garments will remain as they are.” His voice was every drop as oily as I expected, andhe rubbed at the gleaming bangle possessively. “Our mission would be quite impossible to complete without it. Besides, I have no wish to return to camp victorious, only to discover that someone has made off with the cuff links given to me by the head of the Order of the Twisted Oak.”
Better than not coming back at all, I thought, and better than sacrificing me and my men to your bloated sense of vanity. Although he was right: someone would have stolen them.
By the time we reached the outskirts of camp, the men were in position, weapons at the ready, armor pulled tight. The six of us stood in a circle and I repeated our orders. It was clear they weren’t happy, not with the job and not with Adelweid, but they were professionals and kept quiet. When I was finished, I ordered a last equipment check and then we were up the ladders and alone in the wasteland between our camp and the Dren.
“From here on out, full light and noise restrictions are in effect.” I nodded to Saavedra, his face predictably soot colored. He shifted into a practiced stalk and fifteen seconds later I could barely make him out. Carolinus fell in behind him, and I followed with Adelweid a few steps ahead of me.
Behind me was our crossbowman, Milligan, a bright, decent-natured Tarasaihgn who could prick the Queen’s face on an ochre coin at a hundred paces. I wasn’t sure what good he would do us—it was pretty dark to be sending off bolts. He was calm in a melee at least, nothing special but steady and reliable.
Taking rear was Cilliers, a dour-faced Vaalan giant who smiled little and spoke less. He was about the only man in the company who hadn’t switched exclusively to a trench blade, still carrying a double-edged flamberge across his back, the weapon passed down from father to son since before his ancestors had sworn fealty to the Rigun Throne. His frame was too broad to make him much use for covertoperations, but we’d be happy to have his sword if we needed to make a stand on open ground.
Years of fighting had turned the once lush landscape into a barren desert. Bombardments, artillery and magical, had destroyed most of the vegetation and all fauna of the non-rodent variety. Even the topography had been altered, explosives leveling hills and thrusting up piles of debris to replace them. Beyond any aesthetic concern, the devastation meant there was little cover to be found. Without faceblack, on a moonlit night we were easy prey for any patrol that came within fifty yards.
We needed to move quick and we needed to move quiet. Unsurprisingly, Adelweid was having difficulty with both of these, his gait more appropriate to a morning stroll than our clandestine mission. I winced every time the light caught on his silver and noticed Milligan doing the same. If one of us got bled because this idiot wouldn’t take his jewelry off, I didn’t think I could stop my men from friendly-firing him. I didn’t think I’d try.
After a quarter mile I leaned in close to Adelweid and whispered, “Four hundred yards. Let us know where to set up.”
He pointed to a low hill and responded in a voice that did little to maintain our stealth. “That will do nicely. Take me there, then deploy the
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