McClellan, Brian - Powder Mage Trilogy 02 - The Crimson Campaign by Brian McClellan

Author:Brian McClellan [McClellan, Brian]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction / Fantasy - Epic, Fiction / Men’S Adventure, Fiction / Fantasy - Historical
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2014-05-05T18:30:00+00:00

Taniel sat brooding in his quarters, watching out the window as a line of wagons carried wounded soldiers away from the front. He thought about opening the window and asking how the battle was going. But he already had a guess: badly. This lot had probably taken a mortar round—their wounds were bloody and varied, and by their uniforms they were all from the same company.

General Ket had sent him to an inn about five miles behind the line, under guard twenty-four hours a day. It seemed like weeks since Ket had given Taniel her ultimatum. He knew it had been a single night.

The provosts had demanded to know where Ka-poel was. Taniel had shrugged and told them to stuff it, but inside he’d worried about what they’d do when they caught her. Had they been given orders to give her a beating like the one they’d given Taniel? Or worse? Without dolls of them, would Ka-poel be able to fend off the provosts?

General Ket had come by his quarters early this morning to tell him that every day he refused to apologize to Major Doravir was another day that men died on the line.

Taniel would be up there now if it weren’t for General Ket. He wouldn’t let her convince him it was his fault that the line was being pushed back again.

Outside his window, Taniel caught sight of a young man. It was a boy, really. Couldn’t have been more than fifteen. His leg had been taken off at the knee. Whether by a cannonball or a surgeon, Taniel didn’t know, but he was struck by the calm on the boy’s face. While men three times his age wailed over any number of flesh wounds, the boy sat stoically in the back of a wagon, his stump hanging off the edge, watching serenely while a fresh group of conscripts were sent to the front.

Taniel lifted his sketchbook and began to outline the boy’s face.

A knock sounded at the door. Taniel ignored it, wanting to give the boy’s portrait some shape so that he could finish it later.

He’d almost forgotten there even had been a knock, when it sounded again. The wagon outside was moving on, and the wounded boy with it. Taniel dropped his sketchbook on the table and went to the door.

He was surprised to find Mihali there. The big chef held a silver platter aloft in one hand, a towel over the opposite arm. His apron was dirty with flour and what looked like smudges of chocolate.

“Sorry to bother you,” Mihali said, sweeping past Taniel. Two provosts followed the chef inside. One held a folding table, the other a bottle of wine. “Right there,” Mihali told them. “Next to the window. Now some privacy, please.”

The provosts grumbled, setting up the table and then retreating into the hallway.

“Sit,” Mihali instructed, pointing at the only chair in the room. He deposited himself on the edge of the bed.

“What’s this?” Taniel asked.

“Dinner.” Mihali swept the lid off the silver tray.

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