The Price of Valor (67 page)

Raesinia doubted he would go
that
far, but it didn't matter. Morning would bring Janus' troops into the city in numbers too great to be resisted.
It's good enough.
She turned to Winter.

“I'd be grateful, Colonel, if your soldiers might unblock the door. And, Sothe, it might be best if you took the president somewhere quiet until things calm down.”

“Gladly,” Sothe growled, and took a grip on Maurisk's arm, pulling him toward Raesinia's old cell.

Two of the rankers went to work moving the chairs they'd shoved in front of the door. Raesinia noticed for the first time that Andy was among the soldiers who'd come to her rescue when the girl paused in front of her on the way to help them.

“Marcus told me you'd be all right,” Andy said. “I don't know if I really believed him. I saw—I thought I saw—”

“It's a long story,” Raesinia said, patting her on the shoulder. “But I'm fine. I'm glad you're here.”

“I . . .” Andy bowed her head. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

Another ranker, a big woman with her arm bound up in bandages, tugged on Winter's sleeve for attention. She gestured at one wall, where a man in a black obsidian mask lay slumped over. He was sitting up now, groggy, flexing his fingers. His nails were an inch long, and sheathed in blood, as though he'd dipped his fingers in red paint.

Winter reached down and pulled the mask off while the ranker kept her bayonet leveled at the man's throat. Underneath, the Penitent Damned looked ordinary enough, an older man with thinning hair and an angular Murnskai cast to his features. He blinked, looked up at them, and sighed.

“What's your name?” Winter said. “I know you speak Vordanai.”

He nodded. “In Elysium, they called me the Liar.”

Raesinia raised an eyebrow. “They must not have liked you very much.”

“What were you doing here?” Winter said.

“The Lord's business,” the Liar said. “Retrieving the Thousand Names.
Killing Ihernglass and his master for the crime of sorcery, and bringing you back to Elysium for the same reason.”

“Sorcery,” Raesinia said bitterly. “You say that like I made a choice.”

“Sin is always a choice.” The Liar leaned his head back against the wall. “I chose it because I knew it was how I could do the most good for my fellow men, even if it meant an eternity of damnation for me. All the Penitent Damned—”

“Save your self-flagellating theology for someone who cares,” Raesinia snapped. “Where is Ionkovo?” At a glance from Winter, she said, “He's the leader, or seemed to be. I didn't see him out there.”

“Shade is furthering the cause of the Almighty in his own way.” The Liar looked from one of them to the other. “You think you've won, don't you? Because you defeated us in this little battle. The game is larger than that. Your precious general will not save Vordan, not if you persist in this madness. What will you have left when he falls? Only surrender to the Almighty can save you in the end.”

“Janus will want to speak with him,” Raesinia said. “We'll have to tie his hands—”

“I think not.” The Liar took a deep breath and said in a clear voice,
“Ahdon ivahnt vi, ignahta sempria.”

Then, before anyone could make a move to stop him, he brought his hand up, long nails slashing cleanly through the skin of his own throat. Blood gushed forth, and his next breath was a choking gurgle. His head slumped back against the wall, eyes wide and staring at something beyond the walls.

“This,” Winter said to the world in general, “is why I hate fanatics. First the Redeemers, now these lunatics. What is wrong with people?”

“You should get back to Janus,” Raesinia said. “He needs to know what happened here.”

Winter looked at the dead Penitent Damned, and gave a slow nod.

WINTER

A
t Raesinia's insistence, Sothe accompanied Winter downstairs, in case any Patriot Guards had ignored their commander's orders and wanted to fight to the last. They took the servants' passage, back toward the kitchen, narrow and switchbacking.

“All right,” Winter said as Sothe peered suspiciously around another bend and then waved her forward. “I have to ask.”

“Hmm?” Sothe said. Her sleeves were damp with blood where the Penitent Damned had cut her, but she didn't seem to notice.

“When you were fighting the Penitent, at the end. You had your
eyes closed
.”

“Oh.” Sothe pulled up short, looking uncharacteristically embarrassed. “You saw that?”

Winter nodded, and Sothe sighed and ran a hand through her hair.

“I was . . . guessing, really. His style was predictable, the same responses to my moves every time. So I could get away with closing my eyes for a few seconds, as long as I kept the initiative. Any longer than that and he would have killed me.”

“But why?”

“I was playing a hunch. The way he moved—it was like he could see what I was going to do before I did it. But when he had to fight you as well, I noticed he wasn't as fast when he was looking the other way. I think he had a . . . power—a demon, I suppose—that let him . . .
see
better? Or see more detail.” Sothe frowned. “I don't understand magic. But I guessed that he wasn't looking into the future or seeing into my mind, just reading cues from my body. Everyone has them, little motions, no matter how hard you try not to. The eyes are critical. I
knew he was backing toward bad footing, but he would be able to read that from my eyes, so for a few seconds . . .”

Winter stared at her, and Sothe just shrugged.

“I had no idea if it would work. But I couldn't beat him any other way, so I thought it was worth a try.”

“That's . . .” Winter shook her head. “Someday you're going to have to tell me where you learned to fight like that.”

“It's a long story,” Sothe muttered.

In the kitchens, the servants they'd bound were still there, huddled together in a corner. Winter left Sothe to cut them free and went around to the stables, where she commandeered a horse and tackle. She rode back through the lines, the guns abruptly silenced as the news rippled out from the hotel. It outpaced her, racing through the embattled city faster than fire, spreading on the wind in shouts and joyous exclamations. The details were lost as it went, as usual, but the gist remained: the fighting was over. Winter heard men from the Army of the East crowing over their triumph, or cursing that their commanders had called a halt before final victory. Even the latter, though, seemed relieved that the prospect of a confusing, drawn-out battle in darkness had been averted, and already the camps were taking on an air of celebration in spite of the best efforts of suspicious officers.

The Silver Eagle building was abuzz with activity when she reined in outside, slipped out of the saddle, and left the horse with an astonished aide. Girls' Own soldiers stood on guard by the doors, but they were talking excitedly to one another rather than watching the street, and Winter had to cough before they recognized her.

“Sir!” one ranker said, and offered an astonished salute, while the other hurriedly opened the door.

“Is the general here?”

“Yes, sir,” the woman said. “And Captain Giforte wants to speak with you.”

Abby had, in fact, sighted Winter already, and was on her way across the floor, threading past the rows of wounded. She looked mad enough to chew lead shot, and Winter took an involuntary step backward.

“Hello,” Abby growled, “
sir.
Would you come with me, please?”

“I need to see Janus,” Winter said.

“He's been asking for you.” Winter hurried after Abby as she stalked away. In a low voice, the captain said, “When you asked me to put together a team for a special operation, you didn't tell me
you
would be going along.”

“I figured you'd object,” Winter said.

“Damn right I'd object,” Abby said. “You are the
colonel
of this regiment, not a goddamned ranker. You're not supposed to go sneaking through tunnels behind enemy lines.”

“Sorry. It's hard to explain.”

“You're going to have to explain it to Janus,” Abby said.

This was actually something of a relief, since Janus would at least understand the reason she'd had to go along.
I'm the one who carries the Infernivore. I couldn't send people up against the Penitent Damned and stay behind.
The demon seemed more active than usual, stirring around in the back of her mind, like a twitching muscle she couldn't actually pin down to a spot on her body.
Maybe getting something to eat got it excited.

“We rescued the queen,” Winter said as they climbed the stairs to the less crowded second story of the building. “And captured the President of the Directory. I hope that counts for something?”

“It might.” A smile broke through Abby's stormy expression. “That's for the general to decide.”

“Captain!” someone shouted from below. “Captain Giforte!”

“Duty calls,” Abby said. “Janus is using the office at the end of the hall. When you're done, I'm going to want a
full
account, so be ready.”

The second story was mostly offices, separated from one another by thin partitions. For the most part, they were dark and silent, but lamps glowed at the end of one corridor, and Winter could see a musket-bearing sentry waiting in front of the door. It was good to see that Janus was taking his own security seriously, even in friendly territory. Winter walked over, and the guard, a woman she knew vaguely, offered a salute.

“Sir,” she said. “I'm sorry, but the general has instructed me to admit no one.”

“He wanted to see me as soon as possible,” Winter said. “Can you tell him I'm here?”

“I have specific orders he's not to be disturbed, sir.” The sentry looked nervous, which Winter supposed was understandable.
It's never easy to say no to your commanding officer.
She put on what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

“It's all right. I'll wait, then.” The door to the next office over stood open, and through it Winter could see a pair of heavy leather armchairs. All the weariness of the past few hours seemed to descend on her at once, and her legs felt as sturdy as cooked noodles. “I'll be in here. Let me know when he's ready.”

The sentry looked as though she was about to object, but kept silent. Winter
sat down, gratefully, in one of the chairs, sinking into the overstuffed leather cushions. Cuts and bruises all over her body were making themselves felt.
A bath,
she decided.
I need a bath.
She held up her arm, where blood had matted her sleeve.
And maybe a few stitches. I think Abby has the right idea. No more leading from the front . . .

She leaned back, head bumping against the back wall of the office. As she did, she realized she could hear voices from the next office over, muffled but audible.

“. . . is it that you want?” That was Janus. Winter straightened up, not wanting to eavesdrop, but the next voice froze her in her seat. Even through the wall, it was intimately familiar.

“I want you to let Winter go.”

Jane.

*   *   *

“Let her go?” Janus said. “I wasn't aware I was keeping Colonel Ihernglass against her will.”

Jane snorted. “Neither is she. That's how you get to people. You get into their heads, make them think going along with you is their own idea. I've been watching it happen to my girls.”

“I don't suppose you're willing to consider that they follow me because they believe I'm doing the right thing?”

“They follow you because you've got them all twisted up,” Jane said. “You're a clever fucker, no doubt about that. But you can't have Winter.”

Winter pushed the chair closer to the wall, all thoughts of propriety abandoned.
Jane's
here
? How could Abby not have told me?

The answer came to her a moment later, sending a chill down her spine.
Abby doesn't know.
She remembered, belatedly, the name of the sentry—a woman named Coin, who'd been one of Jane's Leatherbacks, and had followed her with a loyalty that was closer to worship.
I always thought it was strange she didn't leave with Jane and the others. But it can't just be her.
There must be others among the Girls' Own loyal to Jane, who'd stayed deliberately to wait for an opportunity to . . .
what?

“The fact remains,” Janus was saying, “I don't believe Colonel Ihernglass would leave the regiment if you asked her to.”

“Right,” Jane said. “You've got your claws in too deep. That's why you're going to
order
her to do it. Tell her it's over, that you don't need her anymore. Get her away from the army, and I'll take care of the rest. Once she's seeing clearly again, she'll thank me.”

“I would be extremely reluctant to lose an officer of her talents—”

“You've got the city,” Jane said, a pleading note entering her voice. “You could declare yourself king, if that's what you want. You don't need her anymore.”

“There's more to it than that. You know, I believe, what she did in Khandar.”

“The demon?” Jane sounded as though she wanted to spit. “I know.”

“The Black Priests will not let her go.”

“That's what
she
told me. But we only have your word for that, don't we? Maybe the Black Priests only care about her because she's working with
you
.” Jane paused. “Anyway, whatever it is, we can handle it. We did fine in Desland, no thanks to you.”

“So you want me to do this out of the goodness of my heart?” Janus said. “Or is it the pistol that's supposed to convince me?”

Oh, Balls of the
fucking
Beast
, Winter thought. She pushed herself out of her chair, weariness falling away under a tide of adrenaline. Out in the corridor, Coin was still waiting in front of Janus' office, looking more nervous than ever.

“Sir,” she said, “he's still—”

“I know,” Winter said. “I realized I've got some notes I should collect. I'll be back in a moment.”

She strode confidently down the corridor, around the corner, and then sprinted to the main stairs. The second floor was mostly deserted, but a pair of rankers were coming down the steps, talking to each other and laughing. Winter grabbed one of them by the arm.

“Hey—uh, sir?” The startled woman froze, and her companion awkwardly saluted. “What's wrong?”

“Go and find Abby,” Winter hissed. “Tell her to bring a half dozen people up to Janus' office.
Now
. And quietly, no shouting.”

“Sir—”

“Just go!” Winter let go and turned around, heading back up the corridor. She forced herself to slow down as she turned the corner, walking back toward Coin at a nonchalant pace.

“Sir,” the young woman said at her approach, “perhaps you'd rather wait downstairs, and I'll send for you—”

Winter kept coming, and Coin's eyes went wide a moment too late as she realized her commander wasn't going to stop. She moved to lower her musket, but Winter was too close, stepping beside her and driving a low, fast punch into her gut. All the air went out of the sentry with a grunt, and she dropped writhing to the floor when Winter slipped past her.

She tested the latch on the door and found it unlocked. Very slowly, Winter eased it open a fraction and applied her eye to the gap.

Janus was standing behind a big desk at the far end of the room, hands spread on top of its leather blotter. Jane was in the corner, the pistol in her hand trained on his chest, hammer cocked. Her red hair was matted, and her uniform soiled by several days' worth of sweat, but the sight of her made Winter want to break down and cry.

Jane, Jane, what the fuck are you doing?

“You'll write the order,” Jane said. “Then you'll stay here until I've shown it to Winter and we're well away. Then you're welcome to do whatever the fuck you want, as long as you stay away from us.”

Coin was stirring, fumbling for her musket. Winter kicked her in the side of the head, took a deep breath, and pushed the door open. Jane's pistol swung around, reflexively, as she entered, and Winter braced herself for the shot. It didn't come.

“Fuck!” Jane said, rapidly moving to cover Janus again. “Saints and martyrs, I nearly fucking shot you. How did you get in? I told Coin—”

“Jane, what the hell are you doing?” Winter said.

“Rescuing you,” Jane said. “Again.”

“Colonel—” Janus began, but Jane interrupted him with a snarl.

“One more word out of you and I'll shoot,” she said. “I'm tired of you manipulating her.”

“This is insane.” Winter let the door close and stepped away from it, moving slowly. “What do you think holding a pistol on Janus is going to accomplish?”

“What's insane is what he's done to you. He's been using you, all this time, and you
thank
him for it. He got you involved in all this, he put a
demon
in your head, and in return you'll follow him anywhere.” Her lip twisted in a snarl. “I don't know how he does it, but it ends now, if I have to end it myself.”

“Put it down, Jane.”

“What has he done for you?” Jane said. “What has he done for any of us but asked us to sacrifice, over and over—”

“Janus has saved my life, more than once,” Winter said. “We all would have died in the desert without him—”

“You wouldn't have
been
in the desert without him!
None
of this would have happened without him!” There were tears in Jane's eyes. “We were finally making it work. Those years after Mrs. Wilmore's were bad, but we were finally making it work, and then this
fuck
comes along and turns everything over. And
now my girls are marching into cannon-fire and getting their fucking arms and legs hacked off with dull knives, and they all still
thank
him for it.”