The supply train’s camp was sprawled on a broad, mostly level hill fifteen hundred paces to the west, the corralled beasts of burden milling beneath dust and slowly drifting dung-smoke. The Overseer could see hospital tents rising along the near side, the canvas sides bright in the morning light. Above another hill, north of the train’s camp, wheeled two hawks or perhaps eagles. The sky was otherwise empty, a span of deep blue slowly paling as the sun climbed higher.
Butterflies flitted among small yellow flowers-their wings matched precisely the colour of the petals, Brohl realized, surprised that he had not noted such a detail before. Nature understands disguise and deceit. Nature reminds us what it is to survive. The Tiste Edur had well grasped those truths-grey as the shadows from which they had been born; grey as the boles of the trees in the murky forests of this world; grey as the shrouds of dusk.
‘What have we forgotten?’ he murmured.
An Arapay war leader-a Preda-turned his helmed head, the scarred face beneath its jutting rim hidden in shadow. ‘Overseer? We are positioned as you commanded-’
‘Never mind,’ Brohl Handar cut in, inexplicably irritated by the veteran’s attention. ‘What is the guard at the camp?’
‘Four hundred mixed infantry,’ the warrior replied, then shrugged. ‘These Letherii are ever confident.’
‘Comes with overwhelming superiority,’ another Arapay drawled.
The first Preda nodded. ‘I do well recall, old friend, the surprise on their faces the day we shattered them outside Letheras. As if, all at once, the world revealed itself to be other than what they had always believed. That look-it was disbelief.’ The warrior grunted a laugh. ‘Too busy with their denial to adapt when it was needed most.’
‘Enough of this,’ Brohl Handar snapped. ‘The Atri-Preda’s forces have engaged the Awl-can you not hear?’ He twisted on his saddle and squinted eastward. ‘See the dust.’ He was silent for a dozen heartbeats, then he turned to the first Arapay Preda. ‘Take two cohorts to the camp. Four hundred Letherii are not enough.’
‘Overseer, what if we are called on to reinforce the Atri-Preda?’
‘If we are, then this day is lost. I have given you my order.’
A nod, and the Preda spurred his horse towards the arrayed Edur warriors.
Brohl Handar studied the K’risnan at his side for a moment. The bent creature sat hunched in his saddle like a bloated crow. He was hooded, ho doubt to hide the twisted ravaging of his once-handsome features. A chief’s son, transformed into a ghastly icon of the chaotic power before which the Tiste Edur now knelt. He saw the figure twitch. ‘What assails you?’ the Overseer demanded.