Nait stared, then shuddered with cold. He wiped the rain from his face, saw the soldier regarding him curiously. ‘Right! Ah, thanks, solider.’ The man saluted. Nait stared again until he realized that he ought to respond; he answered the salute and the soldier jogged away into the rain. He looked to Tranter, Martin and Kal. Their eyes slid aside to the darkness out beyond the crossed stakes. Poliel's Pustules! Hood's Kiss! Fucking dumbass anus-for-brains! Nait threw his helmet into the mud.

‘I haven't heard anything about no inspection,’ the guard at the gate said, frowning in his confusion. Nait shrugged under his cloak. ‘It's not like it's official or anything – we're just worried about the wall of the palisade collapsing – that's all.’

The guards exchanged alarmed looks. ‘Collapsin'?’

‘Yeah. In the rain.’ He pointed to the wall of sunken poles. ‘Look – they're tiltin’ out already.’

‘OK, OK. You wanna go out there, that's your worry.’ The guards lifted the barrier aside. Nait waved forward the five with him but out of the rain came four more, the young new recruits shuffling up beneath outsized capes that dragged in the mud. Nait glared, motioning them away, but they saluted.

‘Reportin’ for the inspection,’ the eldest, Kibb, said, winking.

His back to the guards, Nait raised a fist to them. The youth tapped something bulky with him under his cape. Nait's brows climbed his forehead; the youth gave a smirking, knowing assent.

‘You goin’ or what?’ the guard asked.

‘On our way, Cap'n.’ Nait waved the squad through impatiently.

Out of earshot, in the dark with the rain pelting down, he turned on the youths. ‘What'd you think you're doing! This ain't no pleasure hike!’

‘We know!’ Kibb said, annoyed. ‘We came armed for bear.’ And they pulled up their capes.

‘The Gods’ golden shit!’ The exclamation was torn from Nait as if he'd been poleaxed. Under their capes each carried one of the Moranth munition boxes. The rest of Nait's squad flinched back a step.

‘Will you put those away!’ Nait yanked down their capes, glared out at the darkness as if expecting to be arrested. ‘How did you get them?’

Kibb tapped a finger to the side of his nose. ‘We marked the tent they was hiding all the confiscated munitions. An’ in the rain an’ the dark an’ all it was easy.’ He shrugged.

‘Well, you're not comin’ with us. It's too dangerous. You're going to stay here and wait until we come back and then you're going to return those like nothing's ever happened! OK?’

‘Bullshit!’

‘Bullshit? Don't shit me, soldier!’

‘Well, you're talkin’ it.’

Nait set his fists on his hips. Why, the little runts! It's just like he was back home dealin with his swarm of younger brothers. ‘OK, fine. You wanna come then you have to follow my orders and… Abyss, I don't even know all your names – what in Fanderay are your names anyway?’

‘Kibb.’ Yes, Kibb. What a dumb name. What's it supposed to mean?

‘Poot,’ said one. Poot? Aw, you poor skinny pox-faced kid! What were your parents thinking? Maybe I'll start calling you ‘Pimple’-that'd be an improvement.

‘Jawl.’ Jawl? What kind of a name is that for a girl?

Blushing furiously, the smallest just shook his head. ‘No name at all?’ He squirmed.

‘Stubbin.’

Stubbin? Stubbin! You poor kid. Your parents really did a number on you. Gods, he couldn't have come up with a worse selection than their parents had managed spontaneously. ‘Okay. Let's go.’

As far as Nait was concerned, he was the only person he knew entirely free of any self-delusions. He knew he wasn't brave or a particularly good fighter. He knew sure as Beru that he wasn't exactly an inspiring figure. He also knew that he wasn't leading his squad out on to a gruesome battlefield at night haunted by the worst curse ever to afflict Quon because he was some kind of glory-drunk fool. No, he was just gonna collect his man then get the Abyss off the field all real quiet and as fast as his little pitter-pattering feet could carry him.

The rain let up though it was still as dark as the inside of a cave and for that he was thankful. He misstepped a few times, slipped on things all slithery and occasionally stuck his hand into something wet and soft that sucked when he yanked it free but he didn't look, didn't want to know what that thing was. His squad was real quiet and for that he was thankful as well. No talkers. Some men or women get all talky when they're scared or nervous; that was something he couldn't abide.

The stink wasn't quite so bad yet – not so bad as you'd lose your meal. The flies, though, they were vile. Assaulting his nose, eyes and ears as if they preferred live meat over the endless banquet prepared for them. He had a fair idea where they'd found the Falaran commander and he led his squad as quickly as he could to that spot, without detour or bothering to keep to low-lying ground. Growling and snarling warned them off the skulking carrion-eaters and he figured they wouldn't attack – not when their stomachs were full and there was plenty left for everyone.

They found the man's big horse and him still beneath it – unmarred by the sharp beaks of any birds. But no sign of Brill. The image flashed into Nait's mind of the man asleep in the compound and he almost fainted in a gasping white fury. Then Martin hissed, pointed to his feet. There the man lay, blissfully asleep amidst all the gory horror. What could allow such a thing? A clean conscience? An utter lack of any imagination? It was one of the Queen's own mysteries to Nait. They kicked him awake and he sat up, yawning and rubbing his face.

He peered at them, completely unsurprised. ‘Yeah?’

Nait waved everyone down. ‘What are you doing?’ he hissed.

‘Waitin’ for you.’

‘Waitin’-’ Nait stopped himself from reaching out to throttle the ape. But he had to do something – he pulled off his helmet and hit him with it. ‘You damned fool! Don't you ever do anything like that again!’

‘But you ordered me to-’

‘I don't care what I said – you use your blasted empty head! Now, c'mon. Let's go.’ He started up but Stubbin waved everyone down. ‘What?’

Stubbin made a motion for quiet.

‘What is it?’ Nait whispered.

The boy waved furiously for silence.

Oh, right. He listened. He didn't hear a damned thing. That is, except for the wings of night feeders, the growls and snapping of fighting jackals and plains wolves, the moaning of one or two wounded still alive somewhere out there in the dark. ‘I don't hear-!’ A hand grasped him and another covered his mouth, stifling his yell of surprise. He was yanked around to face the sweaty, dark, scarred features of Master Sergeant Temp. He relaxed and was released. ‘It's you!’

‘Yeah. Damned unfortunate.’

‘They said you were blown up.’

‘That's the story. ‘Predate you keeping to it.’

‘Uh, OK. Why?’

‘Let's say I first left Imperial service under sharp circumstances.’

Nait's squad gathered around. ‘What's up? Kibb asked.

The man was a gruesome sight, hacked and slashed, the front of his layered iron hauberk and scale gauntlets dark with the remains of blood and gore. His shield was gone, but from his short time in the phalanx Nait knew it was common to go through two or three or four shields in any one engagement. ‘What're you doing out here?’

‘Same as you, I expect.’ He flicked the cloth tied around Nait's arm. ‘What's this?’

Nait thought maybe he blushed and was thankful for the dark. ‘Made sergeant.’

‘Handin’ them out to anyone these days.’

‘Listen – we're headin’ back. You coming or not?’

‘No, you're coming with me.’

‘Coming with you? What in Fanderay's ass for?’

‘There's Seti poking around out there and I want to know who and why.’

‘What? Who cares? Ryllandaras is out here. We gotta get back!’