‘Adjunct.’
‘There seems to be a proliferation of non-standard accoutrements on your soldiers. More so here than among any of the other companies I have reviewed.’
‘Yes, Adjunct. Against my orders, and I know the man responsible-’
‘No doubt,’ she replied. ‘But I am not interested in that. I would suggest, however, that some uniformity be established for those… trinkets. Perhaps from the hip belt, opposite the scabbard. Furthermore, there have been complaints from Aren’s citizenry. At the very least, the looted pits and tombs should be returned to their original state… as much as that is possible, of course.’
Ranal’s confusion was obvious. ‘Of course, Adjunct.’
‘And you might note, as well,’ the Adjunct added drily, ‘that you are alone in wearing a… non-standard uniform of the Fourteenth Army, at this time. I suggest you correct that as soon as possible, Lieutenant. Now, you may dismiss your squads. And on your way out, convey my instruction to Captain Keneb that he can proceed with moving the company’s medium infantry to the fore.’
‘Y-yes, Adjunct. At once.’ He saluted. Strings watched her walk back to her entourage. Oh, well done, lass .
Gamet’s chest was filled with aching as he studied the Adjunct striding back to where he and the others waited. A fiercely welling emotion. Whoever had come up with the idea deserved… well, a damned kiss, as Cuttle would have said. They’ve turned the omen .
Turned it!
And he saw the rekindled fire in Tavore’s eyes as she reached them.
‘Fist Gamet.’
‘Adjunct?’
‘The Fourteenth Army requires a standard.’
‘Aye, it does indeed.’
‘We might take our inspiration from the soldiers themselves.’
‘We might well do that, Adjunct.’
‘You will see to it? In time for our departure tomorrow?’
‘I will.’
From the gate a messenger arrived on horseback. He had been riding hard, and drew up sharply upon seeing the Adjunct.
Gamet watched the man dismount and approach. Gods, not bad news… not now…
‘Report,’ the Adjunct demanded.
‘Three ships, Adjunct,’ the messenger gasped. ‘Just limped into harbour.’
‘Go on.’
‘Volunteers! Warriors! Horses and wardogs! It’s chaos at the docks!’
‘How many?’ Gamet demanded.
‘Three hundred, Fist.’
‘Where in Hood’s name are they from?’
The messenger’s gaze snapped away from them-over to where Nil and Nether stood. ‘Wickans.’ He met Tavore’s gaze once more. ‘Adjunct! Clan of the Crow. The Crow! Coltaine’s own !’
CHAPTER NINE
At night ghosts come
In rivers of grief,
To claw away the sand
Beneath a man’s feet
G’danii saying
The twin long-knives were slung in a faded leather harness stitched in swirling Pardu patterns. They hung from a nail on one of the shop’s corner posts, beneath an elaborate Kherahn shaman’s feather headdress. The long table fronting the canopied stall was crowded with ornate obsidian objects looted from some tomb, each one newly blessed in the name of gods, spirits or demons. On the left side, behind the table and flanking the toothless proprietor who sat cross-legged on a high stool, was a tall screened cabinet.
The burly, dark-skinned customer stood examining the obsidian weapons for some time before a slight flip of his right hand signalled an interest to the hawker.
‘The breath of demons!’ the old man squealed, jabbing a gnarled finger at various stone blades in confusing succession. ‘And these, kissed by Mael-see how the waters have smoothed them? I have more-’
‘What lies in the cabinet?’ the customer rumbled.
‘Ah, you’ve a sharp eye! Are you a Reader, perchance? Could you smell the chaos, then? Decks, my wise friend! Decks! And oh, haven’t they awakened! Yes, all anew. All is in flux-’
‘The Deck of Dragons is always in flux-’
‘Ah, but a new House! Oh, I see your surprise at that, friend! A new House. Vast power, ’tis said. Tremors to the very roots of the world!’
The man facing him scowled. ‘Another new House, is it? Some local impostor cult, no doubt-’
But the old man was shaking his head, eyes darting past his lone customer, suspiciously scanning the market crowd-paltry as it was. He then leaned forward. ‘I do not deal in those, friend. Oh, I am as loyal to Dryjhna as the next, make no claims otherwise! But the Deck permits no bias, does it? Oh no, balanced wise eyes and mind is necessary. Indeed. Now, why does the new House ring with truth? Let me tell you, friend. First, a new Unaligned card, a card denoting that a Master now commands the Deck. An arbiter, yes? And then, spreading out like a runaway stubble fire, the new House. Sanctioned? Undecided. But not rejected out of hand, oh no, not rejected. And the Readers-the patterns! The House will be sanctioned-not one Reader doubts that!’