Heroes' Reward (17 page)

Chapter Twenty-One

“All right,
everyone,” barked an Imperial Guard. “Out and put your backs to it.”

The eight of us
climbed out of the wagon. The wheels had sunk so deeply into the mud that the
wagon couldn’t move. It took longer than it should have to free it, with the
eight of us and our two Guards pushing, but we were all frozen and tired and
miserable, our boots sliding in the mud. This wasn’t the first time that day
we’d had to do this, and it probably wouldn’t be our last.

For two weeks,
we had travelled from city to village to tiny settlements with under a hundred
residents. At every location, Green gave her little speech, and the locals had
almost everything but their furniture and their clothing taken from them.

Was this how
leaders created loyal followers?

I was eating
food stripped from people who had had no choice about giving it, who hadn’t, as
far as I knew, been paid for it.

The day to day
ravaging came to a halt when we hit the Dark Marshes, a huge swamp no one could
live off of. A small group of people could usually traverse it quickly enough
to avoid difficulty. For thousands with wagons, it was a nightmare, but driving
around it would, apparently, add weeks to our journey.

It started
raining pretty much the moment we started our slog, of course.

People got sick.
Many developed blisters on their feet in reaction to their soaked boots rubbing
against their skin. Horses ended up with broken legs and had to be put down.

I could have
changed the weather. Possibly. There was a cast for that, and I could perform
it sometimes. I wasn’t about to make the attempt. For thing, I could make
things worse. For another, I wasn’t going to do anything to assist Gifford in
his insane plot. But it was hard, watching people and animals suffer and
knowing there might be something I could do to help.

Over a hundred
of the soldiers deserted. I was surprised. Where could they go?

Eventually, we
pushed the wagon free and we climbed back in, cold and soaked and covered with
mud. The inside of the wagon was only slightly cleaner than the outside, with
mud caking the floor and benches. The wagon had been covered shortly after the
rain had started, which provided some protection, but it was still bitterly
cold and we had no source of heat.

Taro and I
maintained physical contact as much as possible, but the bond that usually
helped us ease each other’s pain had little effect on the cold, for some
reason. It was a damp cold, sinking into the bones, and it was impossible to
shift.

“I’m surprised
you’re not travelling in comfort with the Emperor,” Ogawa sneered. “Fallen out
of favour, have we?”

Oh my gods, if
she said that one more time I was going to throttle her.

“Shut up, Miho,”
Tenneson snapped. He had as little patience with Ogawa as the rest of us.

“Don’t tell me
what to do.”

“Every single
person in this wagon wants to slap you silly,” he warned her. “Do you think
anyone will care if any of us do?”

“I’m paid by the
Emperor.”

“So are all
those poor sods trudging through the mud out there.”

“Aye. They’re
there. We’re in here. That means something.”

I agreed, sort
of. The Pairs and casters were given preference, of a certain level, but we
were only one level up among many, I was thinking.

Over the course
of the day, we were hauled out three more times to push our wagon free of the
mud. I was freezing, filth was everywhere, and my nails got ripped off, but I
had become well aware how fortunate I was to be able to ride instead of having
to walk.

But being
surrounded by the canvas made it even more difficult to believe Taro and I
could get away. I could think of nothing else, for all the good it did me, but
every time I failed to come up with a solution, I became more disheartened,
until I couldn’t bear to think about anything at all.

Another Imperial
Guard showed up at the back of our wagon – I wondered if they resented being
forced to fetch and carry – and slid a tray of food to us.

“What the hell
is this?” Ogawa demanded.

“What does it
look like?” the Guard retorted.

“Garbage.” She
picked up one of the slices of bread. It had mould on it.

The offerings
certainly didn’t look appetizing. Nothing fresh. Just long rolls of dried beef
that I knew would be difficult to chew, the bread, and dried fruit that looked
like it was close to going off.

The Guard
shrugged. “Whine about it to the Emperor, then.”

That immediately
silenced Ogawa, but only until the Guard had left. She resumed her complaints
as we divided up the rations.

Two days later,
the rain finally stopped. The improved conditions raised morale. After a couple
of days more, it became a little less backbreaking to get the wagons through
the mud. Two days after that, we reached firm ground.

Many were
anticipating reaching Bronlea, the next village on the route, and stealing
everything the residents had. It wasn’t as though everyone was unanimous in
their disregard for the rights and needs of the residents: it was just that
there remained a great distance to Shidonee’s Gap, and people were finding the
prospect of dwindling supplies alarming.

As had been done
in every other settlement, the wagons of casters and Pairs were pulled to the
front of the huge caravan, to be used as examples to shame residents into doing
things they normally wouldn’t be expected to do. The wagon canvases were pulled
down so everyone could get a good look at us.

I had acquired
the habit of staring at my feet. As we approached the city limits, I didn’t
immediately take note of our surroundings. When I heard gasps from around me,
my first thought was that the residents had heard of our approach and had come
out to meet us. To attack us.

What I saw a
moment later was even worse.

We were passing
through what looked like the remains of a farmstead. Where the barn would have
been were huge lumps of dark ash, the odd burnt beam of wood sticking up. It
looked like the stones of the foundations had been scattered about and pounded
into dust. Shards of glass glistened in the grass.

The house was in
a similar state.

There were no
people, no animals. The place was dead.

I had no idea
what would cause damage of that nature.

We moved on.

The next farm
appeared to have suffered the same calamity. And the next. And the next.

The road leading
into the city was pitted with deep holes and ruts, the wagon rattling and
bouncing painfully.

The city itself
was a wasteland of burnt buildings. Where there had been, I imagined, shops and
taverns and brothels, there were similar lumps of ashes, pulverized stones, and
shattered glass. The streets – all of them, as far as I could see – had been
dug up and left almost impossible to traverse.

There was no
life. The only sound in the air was the noise made by Gifford’s caravan.

We reached the
city square. There had been a statue in the centre, which had been chiselled
off its base and pushed to the street. As I got closer, I could see it had been
carved in the figure of Gifford.

It appeared to
be the only piece of stone that had not been completely crushed.

Then I realised
that the destruction all around us had been deliberately created.

The residents of
Bronlea had preferred to destroy everything they had rather than give it to
Gifford. They’d been thorough and determined about it. They hadn’t just set
their buildings on fire and left. This level of annihilation, it had to have
taken days. They had put enormous effort into making sure there was nothing
that could be salvaged.

That kind of
courage was humbling. And shaming.

We rode through
the grave of Bronlea. Because no one else was speaking, I could hear the
Emperor shouting. I couldn’t make out the actual words, but I was confident
they had something to do with betrayal and treason.

That night,
after everyone had settled and eaten their salty meat and weak tea, one of the
many Imperial Guards that fluttered around Gifford arrived at our fire. “You
two,” she said, gesturing at Taro and me. “Come.”

We were led to
the Emperor’s tent, where he, Green, and a handful of high ranking Imperial
Guards were standing around a table with a large map. One of them, Colonel
Todin, was in charge of the forces movement. In theory. I had a feeling he was
allowed to make only the orders Gifford chose to let him make.

“Saskan is two
days south,” Todin said, pointing out on the map a symbol indicating a city.
“Reflection is four days west. Monray is three days north.”

“Obviously, the
traitors’ destination is Saskan,” Gifford said impatiently. “We’ll follow them
there. When we find them, we will seize their supplies, their able-bodied, and
their mounts. We will execute their families. News of their punishment will
spread, and no one else will dare commit the same offence.”

“That would take
us from our route, Your Majesty,” said Todin, a thread of tension in his voice.
He was nervous to be disputing with the Emperor, and I didn’t blame him. “If
the Branleans haven’t fled to Saskan, it will mean a great deal of time spent
with no reward.”

Gifford scowled.

“May I suggest
that we send a single scout to each settlement?” said Todin. “One person on a
fast horse can travel there and back much more swiftly than the entire caravan.
When we know where the Branleans have gone, we can decide how many of our
people are needed to subdue them. Meanwhile, our principal forces can continue
on course and on schedule.”

Gifford didn’t
like this, either, I could see it. Todin might be risking his neck,
contradicting the Emperor, especially in front of so many people.

“Your Majesty,”
Green interjected. “There is an easier way. One of the casters can tell us
where the residents went.”

I stared at her.
We could? Since when?

Maybe the
Erstwhile casters had developed that sort of spell while I’d been banned from
their presence.

Green snapped
her fingers at me. “Now, Shield!”

Why did she assume
I could cast such a spell? Why did so many people think I could do everything?
“I know of no such cast, Lady Green.”

Green crossed
her arms. “Tell me, Shield Mallorough, is there anything you
can
do?
Because it appears to me that you’ve done nothing but obstruct His Majesty’s
efforts from the moment you arrived in Erstwhile.”

“My reputation
exceeds my talents, my lady.” This was true.

Green sniffed.
“A claim easily made.”

“Shield
Mallorough has done nothing but strive to meet our goals,” Taro objected in a
firm tone, strengthening his aristocratic accent just a little.

Both true and
vague. He didn’t define which goals were ours. Well done, my love.

“We have only
your word on that, don’t we?”

“We have no
reason to doubt Source Karish’s word,” Gifford said sharply. “He swore an oath
to Us and has done nothing to violate it.”

Green bowed. “Of
course,” she responded, sounding subdued. Then she shot a hostile look my way.

Gifford nodded
at Todin. “See to sending the scouts.”

Todin cleared
his throat. “I’m afraid there’s one more matter to discuss, Your Majesty.”

Gifford rolled
his eyes. “What?”

“Due to the
current state of our supplies, we’ll need to cut everyone’s rations by at least
a quarter.”

Gifford
shrugged. “Fine.”

Really, I should
stop being shocked at every display demonstrating Gifford’s lack of concern for
his people. It was an ongoing pattern of behaviour.

The Emperor
turned to Taro. “Why have We seen so little of you during Our travels? Your
place is with Us.”

Taro bowed. “We
were instructed to ride with other casters and another Pair, Your Majesty.”

“Such
instructions do not reflect Our wishes.” He shot a hard look at Green, then
waved his hand at one of the Guards. “Make the necessary arrangements.”

The Guard bowed
low. “Of course, Your Majesty.”

And that was how
we ended up riding beside the Emperor’s carriage. It was much better than
riding in the wagon and dealing with Ogawa’s constant sniping.

On the dark
side, I could practically feel Green fuming at us. Her anger didn’t show up on
her face, but I knew it was there.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Gifford slapped
the goblet off the table. Silver and wine hit Colonel Todin in the face. “No!”
the Emperor shouted. “This isn’t so!”

As ordered,
scouts had been sent to Saskan, Reflection, and Monray. All had returned with
the same news: all three settlements had been destroyed in a manner identical
to Bronlea. No standing buildings, nothing living.

The three scouts
cowered before us, heads down.

“You went to the
wrong place!” Gifford accused them. “Incompetent parasites!”

Ridiculous. How
could all three of them end up going to the wrong place?

Gifford’s grasp
on logic wasn’t too firm that day. He’d been glassy-eyed and pale and clumsy.
Irritable and petulant. Snapping at the cringing healer who was so unlucky as
to have to attend him. Even Green hadn’t been spared his temper, her hand
shaken off his arm when she tried to calm him down, her words dismissed with
sharp insults.

Todin wiped his
face with his sleeve.

Gifford roared
and flipped the table over. I jumped.

“Are you all
relying on the ineptitude of the Triple S?” he demanded. “This is not
acceptable! The people must be shown Our might. There is to be no belief We
were successful only due to the weakness of the enemy!” He pointed at the
scouts. “You will all leave immediately. Find supplies.” Then he spun around
and strode the few steps to his private quarters. Green, after a few moments,
followed after.

Everyone looked
at the scouts with sympathy. They’d been ordered to do the impossible. If I
were them, I’d leave and never come back.

As a lot of
other people were doing. Gifford’s forces were still huge, but people were
leaving every night. Some were caught and flogged, sometimes to death. It was
horrible.

We suddenly
heard Gifford shouting from his tent. “Who are you to be giving orders? No one!
You’re nothing but what We make you! We have made you nothing yet!”

Actually, he’d
made Green the recipient of several oaths of fealty. That was a pretty powerful
position.

Maybe he’d
forgotten.

“I don’t believe
your presence is further required,” Todin announced coldly, giving Taro and me
particular attention.

“Right then,”
Third Sergeant Postel said, grabbing my arm. “Let’s go.”

“Release her,”
Taro snapped.

“Aye, right,”
sneered Third Sergeant Mazin, shoving Taro from behind.

We’d had a lot
of Imperial Guards come and go during our journey. Demoted, promoted,
reassigned somewhere or other, so many we’d gotten to the point of paying no
attention to their names.

These two,
though, had had shifts with us for over a week. They were young, both around
twenty in years, I estimated. They were Guards of the less polished variety.
Postel was pale, with blue eyes and black hair and the broadest shoulders I’d
ever seen. Mazin, dark skinned with very light gray eyes, was more on the wiry
side, but still looked like he could crush my skull between his hands.

They were
bullies, and if they had any brains I’d seen no evidence of it. They seemed to
feel they’d been given a great deal of power because they were allowed,
apparently, to push and pull us around as the mood struck them. Never in the
Emperor’s presence, of course, but no one else seemed to mind.

Taro and I had
been given a tiny tent that I believed had been slapped together from strips
sliced from wagon canvases. It left us even more isolated, as we were expected
to remain in the tent when we weren’t attending the Emperor. We’d fallen out of
the habit of talking even to each other. Making up meaningless conversation
just took too much effort, and we were too afraid to discuss anything real, in
case we were overheard.

Standing around
the Emperor all the time did have advantages, of a sort. We got to hear all of
the reports from various officers, scouts, casters, and Pairs. It was the only
way we could learn what was going on.

Everyone gave
positive reports, for the most part. Some were brave enough to include tiny
cautions, but overall, it seemed everything was fine. I watched them closely,
wondering whether they were all lying or if some of them were genuinely
deluded.

Because, while I
didn’t know anything about military matters, Gifford’s efforts seemed to me to
create nothing but a colossal mess.

Maybe he would
have no one left by the time we reached Shidonee’s Gap. Maybe that would be the
best outcome we could hope for. No actual conflict and a harsh lesson that
might force Gifford back into place. Maybe it would help everyone realise he
wasn’t omnipotent and they’d start standing up for their rights.

I could use the
good example.

The last report
came from a starving scout wearing garments made almost entirely of patches.
She looked ready to collapse. “Scout Fakin, Your Majesty,” she greeted him with
a bow.

Gifford didn’t
seem to recognize her.

Todin leaned
closer to him. “She was sent to look in on Shidonee’s Gap, Your Majesty.”

“Ah!” Gifford
rubbed his hands together. “What news have you of the doings of the foul
seditionists?”

“The Triple S
have left Shidonee’s Gap, Your Majesty.” The scout was so afraid of what she
was saying, her words were slow and thick. “They have set out towards
Erstwhile. When I left, they had reached Braidfast.”

I was horrified.
Why hadn’t they stayed nice and safe in Shidonee’s Gap? They had their own
scouts, I was sure. Didn’t they know Gifford was running his forces into the
ground?

Perhaps they, like
Gifford, didn’t want to appear to succeed due to the stupidity of the other
side. Perhaps they didn’t want to sit there passively. Perhaps they wanted to
show their strength by charging towards him.

I hoped it
wasn’t just pride. Pride was a stupid reason to risk that many lives.

The scout was
still speaking. “They have slightly more than two thousand soldiers – ”

My heart sank.
Barely more than half what the Emperor had.

“- they have
nearly eighty casters – ”

Almost four
times as much as the Emperor.

“- they have
close to one hundred Pairs.”

Nearly five
times as many as Gifford.

The scout bowed
low.

Gifford went
berserk.

The tantrum he
indulged in frightened me and embarrassed me all at the same time. No adult
should behave that way, all that storming and shouting and throwing things
about. He actually degenerated into claiming the circumstances weren’t fair.
Who said that after the age of thirteen?

“You should have
reached Us earlier with this information!” Gifford raged at the poor trembling
scout. He turned to Todin. “Have her flogged.” He clomped off, still shouting.

The people he
passed kept their eyes down.

Once Gifford was
out of sight, Todin looked to Green. And waited.

Interesting.

She returned the
look for a moment, and then she put a hand on the crying scout’s shoulder. “The
Emperor … is not well,” she said in a gentle voice. “This grave disappointment
has prompted him to give an order I am sure he will regret later.”

The scout’s eyes
widened with hope.

“Perhaps, for
now, you should avoid His Majesty’s attention. It might be best if you joined
the grenadiers. You will be more easily hidden within their numbers.”

The scout nodded
gratefully.

“Go to the
quartermaster. Get a uniform and something to eat.”

The scout bowed.
“Thank you, my lady.” Her voice was faint with relief.

Green exchanged
another quick glance with Todin before leaving, following Gifford.

“This way,”
Todin said to the scout. Looking much calmer, she left with him.

Silence
enveloped the rest of us. No one seemed to know what to do. Green had just
reversed an order from the Emperor himself. In front of us.

I had no idea
what that meant. Maybe it wasn’t significant at all. Maybe Green had always
soothed the difficulties Gifford created with his habit of instilling
resentment and throwing about illogical orders, and I had just never seen it.
Maybe the Emperor knew of it and, during his calmer moments, was fine with it.

But I really
didn’t think so.

Taro and I
returned to our tiny little tent. It was damp and it smelled bad, but at least
it shielded us from the gaze of everyone around us. We didn’t have to pretend
we weren’t terrified. That wasn’t much comfort, but we had to find it wherever
we could, no matter how minor.