Faradan Sort sighed. ‘Mutiny. That’s an ugly word, Kindly. You seem ready to throw it at the feet of my regulars.’
‘It’s what I fear, Faradan. I am not questioning your command – you do know that, don’t you?’
She thought about that, and then grunted. ‘Well, actually, that’s precisely what you’re questioning. I’m not Fist Blistig, and I dare say my reputation is decent enough among my soldiers. Aye, I might be hated, but it’s not a murderous hate.’ She regarded Kindly. ‘Didn’t you once speak about making a point of being hated by your soldiers? We are to be their lodestones, and when they see us bear it, when they see how none of it can buckle us, they are in turn strengthened. Or did I misunderstand you?’
‘You didn’t. But we’re not being looked at like that any more, Sort. Now, they’re seeing us as potential allies. Against her .’
Ruthan Gudd’s voice was dry, ‘Ready to lead a revolt, Kindly?’
‘Ask that again and I’ll do my level best to kill you, Captain.’
Ruthan Gudd’s grin was cold. ‘Sorry, I’m not here to give you an easy way out, Fist.’
‘No, you’re not giving any of us anything.’
‘What would you have me say? She doesn’t want her soldiers weeping or bleeding out all over the ground because they’ve gone soft. She wants them to be the opposite. Not just hard.’ He eyed the three of them. ‘Savage. Unyielding. Stubborn as cliffs against the sea.’
‘In the command tent—’
‘You missed the point,’ Ruthan cut in. ‘I now think you all did. She said to look across, into the eyes of the Crippled God. To look, and to feel . But you couldn’t do it, Kindly, could you? Could you , Fist Sort? Lostara? Any of you?’
‘And what of you?’ Kindly snapped.
‘Not a chance.’
‘So she knocked us all down – what was the point of that? ’
‘Why shouldn’t she?’ Ruthan Gudd retorted. ‘You asked for more from her. And then I nailed her to a damned tree with that madness about serving her. She struck back, and that, friends, was the most human moment from the Adjunct I’ve yet seen.’ He faced them. ‘Until then, I was undecided. Would I stay on? Would I ride out, away from all this? And if I left, well, it’s not as though anyone could stop me, is it?’
‘But,’ said Faradan Sort, ‘here you are.’
‘Yes. I’m with her now for as long as she needs me.’
Fist Kindly raised one hand, as if to strike out at Ruthan Gudd. ‘But why?’
‘You still don’t get it. None of you. Listen. We don’t dare look across into the eyes of a suffering god. But, Kindly, she dares. You asked for more from her – gods below, what more can she give? She’ll feel all the compassion none of you can afford to feel. Behind that cold iron, she will feel what we can’t.’ His eyes went flat on Kindly. ‘And you asked for more.’
The stones ticked in the heat. A few insects spun on glittering wings.
Ruthan Gudd turned to Faradan Sort. ‘Your regulars are not saying anything? Be relieved, Fist. Maybe they’re finally realizing, on some instinctive level, what she’s taken from them. What she’s holding inside, for safekeeping. The best they have.’
Faradan Sort shook her head. ‘Now who is the one with too much faith, Ruthan Gudd?’
He shrugged. ‘It’s hot out here.’
They watched as he headed off, a lone figure trudging back to the pickets, and to the camp beyond. There was no dust in the air – this desert didn’t make dust.
Eventually, Kindly turned to Lostara Yil. ‘Did you suspect he was about to bolt?’
‘What? No. The man’s a damned cipher, Fist.’
‘How,’ asked Faradan, ‘is this going to work? When I need to stiffen the spines of my soldiers, what in Hood’s name can I say to them?’
After a moment, Lostara Yil cleared her throat and said, ‘I don’t think you have to tell them anything, Fist.’
‘What do you mean? And don’t go spewing out Ruthan’s words – he places far too much in the hearts and minds of the common soldier. Just because your life is devoted to killing, it doesn’t accord you any special wisdom.’
‘I don’t agree with that,’ Lostara said. ‘Look, just by standing with her, with the Adjunct, you’re saying all that needs saying. The real threat to this army is Fist Blistig, who’s hardly kept secret his opposition to the Adjunct, and by extension to all of you. If he starts gathering followers … well, that’s when the trouble will start.’