Fiddler cut between two staff tents, and made it halfway down before he stopped and slowly sank to one knee, his hands over his face. As tears broke loose, shudders drove through him, wave upon wave.
We’re going to die – can’t he see that? I can’t lose him again – I just can’t .
He could still feel Hedge’s shoulders where he’d pushed him, and see the hurt look on the man’s face – no, don’t . His hands stung, his hands burned. He balled them into fists, head hanging, forcing himself to draw deep breaths, forcing all the rawness away, and with it the terrible anguish that threatened to break him, crush him down.
He needed to go to his soldiers now. The sergeants would have them ready. Waiting. Marines and heavies, the last of both. One more thing to do, and then we’ll be done. All of it, finished .
Gods, Hedge, we should have died in the tunnels. So much easier, so much quicker. No time to grieve, no time for the scars to get so thick it’s almost impossible to feel anything at all .
And then you showed up and tore them all open again .
Whiskeyjack, Kalam, Trotts – they’re gone. Why didn’t you stay there with them? Why couldn’t you just have waited for me?
Still the tears streamed down his face, soaking his beard. He could barely see the matted dead grasses beneath him.
End this. One more thing to do – they’ll try and stop us. They have to. We need to be ready for them. We need – I need … to be a captain, the one in charge. The one to tell my soldiers where to die .
Wiping at his face, he slowly straightened.
‘Gods,’ he muttered. ‘First the Adjunct, and now this.’ He sighed. ‘Let’s just call it a bad day and be done with it. Ready, Fid? Ready for them? You’d better be.’
He set out.
There was glory in pissing, Corabb decided as he watched the stream curve out and make that familiar but unique sound as it hit the ground.
‘Doesn’t look like you need both hands for that,’ Smiles observed from where she sat nearby.
‘Today, I shall even look upon you with sympathy,’ he replied, finishing up and then spitting on his hands to clean them.
‘Sympathy? What am I, a lame dog?’
Sitting leaning against his pack, Bottle laughed, earning a dark look from Smiles.
‘We are going somewhere to fight,’ Corabb said, turning to face her and the others sitting on the ground beyond. ‘Today, you are all my family.’