‘Togg’s a god.’

‘Not a goddess?’

‘No.’

‘Then its teats are-’

‘Useless. Precisely.’

‘What of the others? “Hood’s Breath”?’

‘Hood is the Lord of Death.’

‘Thus… no breath.’

‘Correct.’

‘Bern’s mercy?’

‘She has no mercy’

‘Mowri fend?’

‘The Lady of the Poor fends off nothing.’

Redmask regarded the foreigner. ‘Your people have a strange relationship with your gods.’

‘I suppose we do. Some decry it as cynical and they may have a point. It’s all to do with power, Redmask, and what it does to those who possess it. Gods not excepted.’

‘If they are so unhelpful, why do you worship them?’

‘Imagine how much more unhelpful they’d be if we didn’t.’ At whatever Anaster Toc saw in Redmask’s eyes, he then laughed.

Annoyed, Redmask said, ‘You fought as an army devoted to the Lord and Lady of the Wolves.’

And see where it got us.’

‘The reason your force was slaughtered is because my people betrayed you. Such betrayal did not come from your wolf gods.’

‘True, I suppose. We accepted the contract. We assumed we shared the meaning of the words we had exchanged with our employers-’ At that he offered Redmask a wry smile. ‘We marched to war believing in honour. So. Togg and Fanderay are not responsible-especially for the stupidity of their followers.’

‘Are you now godless, Anaster Toc?’

‘Oh, I heard their sorrowful howls every now and then, or at least I imagined I did.’


‘Wolves came to the place of slaughter and took the hearts of the fallen.’

‘What? What do you mean?’

‘They broke open the chests of your comrades and ate their hearts, leaving everything else.’

‘Well, I didn’t know that.’

‘Why did you not die with them?’ Redmask asked. ‘Did you flee?’

‘I was the best rider among the Grey Swords. Accordingly, I was acting to maintain contact between our forces. I was, unfortunately, with the Awl when the decision was made to flee. They dragged me down from my horse and beat me senseless. I don’t know why they didn’t kill me there and then. Or just leave me for the Letherii.’

‘There are levels to betrayal, Anaster Toc; limits to what even the Awl can stomach. They could run from the battle, but they could not draw a blade across your throat.’

‘Well, that’s a comforting relief. Apologies. I have always been prone to facetious commentary. I suppose I should be thankful, but I’m not.’

‘Of course you’re not,’ Redmask said. They were approaching the broad hide awning protecting the rodara-skin maps the war leader had drawn-mostly from what he could recall of Letherii military maps he had seen. These new maps had been stretched out on the ground, pegged down, arrayed like pieces of a puzzle to create a single rendition of a vast area-one that included the south border kingdoms. ‘But you are a soldier, Anaster Toc, and I have need of soldiers.’

‘So, you seek an agreement between us.’

‘I do.’

‘A binding of words.’

‘Yes.*

‘And what if I choose to leave? To walk away?’

‘You will be permitted and given a horse and supplies. You may ride east or southeast or indeed north, although there is nothing to be found to the north. But not west, not southwest.’

‘Not to the Lether Empire, in other words.’

‘Correct. I do not know what vengeance you hold close to your wounded soul. I do not know if you would betray the Awl-to answer their betrayal of you. For which I would not blame you in the least. I have no desire to have to kill you and this is why I forbid you to ride to Lether.’

‘I see.’

Redmask studied the map in the crepuscular light. The black lines seemed to be fading into oblivion before him. ‘It is my thought, however, to appeal to your desire for vengeance against the Letherii.’

‘Rather than the Awl’

‘Yes.’

‘You believe you can defeat them.’

‘I shall, Anaster Toe’

‘By preparing fields of battle well in advance. Well, as a tactic I would not gainsay it. Assuming the Letherii are J foolish enough to position themselves precisely where you want them.’

‘They are arrogant,’ Redmask said. ‘Besides, they have no choice. They wish to avenge the slaughter of settlements and the theft of herds they call their property-even though they stole them from us. They wish to punish us, and so will be eager to cross blades.’



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