The Shadow Throne

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

WINTER

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going to join up.”

“You never will. You’re saying it, but you won’t.”

“I will!”

“Last time you told me there was no point going off to die for some nob.”

“Yeah, but that was last time. This time it’s Vhalnich.”

“He ain’t a nob?”

“He knows what he’s doing, is all. And he’s got some real troops to help. First Colonials, they said. You heard what they did in Khandar?”

“I heard a lot of things. That don’t make ’em true.”

“And you don’t want Orlanko back here, either, with his goddamned Sworn Church and his Borel tax farmers.”

“Yeah, but. .”

“Besides, think about it. This time next week, a man in a blue uniform won’t be able to buy his own drinks. And the girls-”

“Yeah, but you gotta be alive to enjoy it.”

Winter, hands in her pockets, walked beside the pair of youths until they turned off onto a side street. She’d heard that conversation, or one very much like it, at least a dozen times since she left the cathedral.

The deputies had retreated from the cheering mob to the cathedral’s great hall, locked in furious argument. The carefully negotiated alliances of the past week had all gone out the window, as though Janus’ speech and the arrival of the Colonials had upset the checkerboard and spilled all the pieces on the floor. And, in a way, it had. Royal Army troops were in Vordan City for the first time in living memory, and that tipped the balance of power decisively in favor of the man who held their loyalty.

Radical, Monarchist, and Center split into a dozen competing bands. Some cheered Janus on, while others wanted to send a delegation to take command of the regiment and make sure it couldn’t be used against the deputies. Still others argued against doing anything rash, or anything at all, for fear of provoking Janus before Orlanko was dealt with. Some argued that a true constitution needed to be written, clarifying the queen’s position, before any action could be taken.

Maurisk alternately sat in silence and shouted, soothing the worried and beating back the more ludicrous proposals. Eventually he convinced the deputies to pass a resolution of support for Janus and the Colonials, which expressed, in a general way, their hopes that he would defeat Orlanko but didn’t say anything terribly specific about what would happen afterward. Satisfied with this noneffort, the Deputies-General dissolved for the evening.

Winter had hired a carriage to take her to the Docks, but had been forced to abandon it after crossing the Grand Span. The streets were full of people, as if the passage of the Colonials had been a magic signal to come out of hiding. Everywhere torches were burning, men and women were talking and laughing, and children played in the streets and shouted with joy at the unexpected festival.

As she threaded her way through the crowd, Winter learned that there were more reasons for cheer than just the arrival of her old regiment. The Colonials had marched up the Green Road from the south, and they’d brought with them a considerable tail of carts and wagons. These belonged to the farmers and merchants of the area, who’d been frightened off from bringing their produce to the city by rumors of fighting. They’d flocked to the familiar blue uniforms, evidence that authority was being reasserted, and followed the Colonials to sell their wares. The road to the north was still closed, but this influx had helped to fill the food shortage and bring prices to more reasonable levels. Winter saw fresh vegetables, early apples by the barrelful, bushels of corn and sides of bacon, and the whole city seemed full of the smell of baking bread.

Jane’s building looked like a castle just after the siege is lifted. The front doors were open, and people streamed in and out. Some of the injured were leaving, in the company of family and friends, and Winter witnessed a couple of emotional family reunions. A few Leatherbacks and some of Jane’s girls were about, but they weren’t going armed anymore.

Winter headed up to the big dining room, following the roars of laughter and the smell of food. A feast was in progress, and she entered to find the room in pandemonium. There were easily twice as many girls crammed into the hall as could actually fit around the tables, and all the chairs had been pushed out of the way. The guests ate with their fingers from a vast bounty: huge loaves of bread, roast chickens, hams and gravy, bowls of apples and berries. Nothing complicated, Winter noted with a faint smile. Nellie tries her best.

Jane sat at the high table like a king in a medieval court, surrounded by her lieutenants, exchanging shouted jokes with girls at other tables and roaring with laughter. Rather than fight her way across the room, Winter slipped around the edge, finding a table in the corner where the press of young women was not quite so solid. There was even an empty chair. She sat down and leaned back, just watching Jane, drinking in the sheer laughing wild life of her. Her hair was growing out, Winter thought, red spikes changing into a tousled mop that hung forward over her eyes and made her look younger.

No one took any notice of her, which was fine. She helped herself to an apple and half a roast chicken, pulling the bird apart with her fingers and licking them clean of the grease. She was vaguely aware of a conversation going on across the table from her, but it was only after she recognized Becks that she started to pay attention.

“-Jane would never let us!” Becks was saying.

“Not us,” Molly said. “The older girls would go.”

“What use is that?” said Andy. “I want to go. Able Tom says he’s going to go, and he’s only fifteen. I lifted a water barrel when he couldn’t do it, and I beat him in a race.”

“Vhalnich won’t want the likes of Able Tom, either,” Nell said. “He wants men, he said. Little boys don’t carry muskets, and neither do girls.”

“I could, I bet,” Andy said. “And Becks wants to.”

“I never said I wanted to,” Becks said. “I just said we ought to. Nobody wants to go fight, but it’s our duty as Vordanai.”

“Do you think Jane will go?” Molly said. “Vhalnich would have to take her.”

“He’d be stupid not to,” Andy said. “Or Jess or Nina, or any of the older girls. They fought the tax farmers for a year. I’m sure they could fight Duke Orlanko.”

“The other soldiers would never put up with it,” Nell said, a bit huffily. “Girls can’t be soldiers, I told you.”

“Why not?” said Andy.

“They just can’t!”

They just can’t. Winter shook her head. That ought to be a good enough answer for anybody. It ought to be a good enough answer for me.

Big clay mugs of beer were circling, for anyone who wanted a swallow. Winter took a few gulps of the warm, thin stuff and sent it on its way. More girls scurried in, bringing more food and clearing away the remains. The air was hot and thick with the mixed smells of cooking and hundreds of unwashed bodies, leavened with smoke from the torches. It ought to have been choking and claustrophobic, but Winter felt comforted instead, as though the laughter and smell were wrapped around her like a warm blanket on a cold night. Someone was playing a fiddle, very badly.

“Winter, can I talk to you for a minute?”

She looked up. Abby was standing beside her table, shoulders hunched, arms crossed over her chest. She looked pale in the torchlight. Winter was still not entirely comfortable in Abby’s company, but the room was too crowded to escape. She forced a smile and looked up with a noncommittal shrug. “Go ahead.”

“Somewhere a little quieter.”

With a last glance at Jane, Winter sighed and got to her feet. She followed Abby through the crowd and out into the corridor. Abby ducked through the first open doorway, which led into a small room with a half dozen bedrolls spread out on the floor. They were all empty now, and the candles were out. Only a little of the distant light from the torches in the main hall seeped in to break up the shadows.

“What were you doing there?” Abby said.

“Getting something to eat,” Winter said, defensively. “Nobody stopped me.”

“Not that,” Abby said. She hugged herself tighter. “She’s been waiting for you all night. Why haven’t you gone to see her?”

“She looked happy. I didn’t want to intrude.”

“She won’t really be happy unless you’re there.” Abby sighed. “Sometimes I’m not sure you understand how much you mean to her.”

“I do,” Winter said. I think I do. “Abby, what’s wrong?”

“I haven’t heard from my father,” Abby said. “He’s not at the house. He probably left the city after the queen surrendered, or went to stay with a friend, but. . I don’t know.”

“If you’re worried about him, find Captain d’Ivoire,” Winter said. “He may know where to look.”

Abby nodded. She was barely a shadowed outline in the dark, her eyes invisible. “But I can’t leave. Not yet. I need to look after Jane.”

“You need to start trusting her a little more,” Winter said. “Jane can take care of herself, if anyone can.”

“You saw her the other day,” Abby said quietly. “She can take care of herself. The problem is that she tries to take care of everyone else, too.”

“I know.” Winter shook her head. “I’ll look out for Jane.”

“You won’t let her do anything. .”

“Stupid?”

Abby gave a weak chuckle.

“I’ll do my best,” Winter said. “Go and find your father. Or better yet, get some sleep. I only met your father briefly, but he struck me as being able to take care of himself, too.”

“Thank you.” Abby paused. “And thank you for helping Jane. I don’t know all of what the two of you did, but all this. .”

Winter held up her hands. “I only gave her a bit of advice. Jane and Janus did the rest.”

Abby nodded, tiredly. She took a step toward the door, then halted. “What happens if we win?”

“What?”

“Suppose Vhalnich beats Orlanko. Then what? What happens to Jane and the rest of us here?”

“Why should anything happen?”

“I don’t know,” Abby said. “But I feel like it can’t go back to normal, after this. What are you going to do?”

Winter shrugged uncomfortably. Damned if I know. “I’ll figure that out when I get there.”

Abby regarded her for a moment, a tiny gleam of light reflecting in her eyes. Then she swept out, leaving Winter alone in the darkness.

Winter didn’t want to fight her way through the frantic, happy crowd in the hall, but she remembered seeing girls come in with fresh dishes from a door just behind where Jane had been sitting. She went in search of the kitchens and eventually found them by following the clatter of crockery. A half dozen girls were giggling together over an open bottle of wine. They looked up as Winter came in, but she ignored them. She found the door she wanted and eased it open.

The bad fiddler had been joined by a bad piper, who from the sound of it was playing an instrument she’d carved herself. The crowd clapped its hands to keep the beat, and as Winter came forward she saw that Chris had led some of the girls up on the tables and started to dance, heedless of the occasional chicken or bowl of berries that got kicked out of the way. Jane stood between Becca and Winn, clapping as loudly as anyone, and nearly doubling over with laughter when Chris stepped right off the end of the table and toppled into a sea of welcoming hands.

Winter stepped up and touched her on the arm. Jane looked over her shoulder, then spun around, grinning madly.

“Winter! When did you finally turn up?”

“Just now,” Winter said. As the other girls began to turn to look at them, she grabbed Jane’s hand. “Come with me.”

There is a law of nature-one that Winter had previously been unaware of, but now instinctively sensed-that says that the more comfortable one is, lying beside one’s lover with limbs entwined under a sweaty sheet, the more certain it is that one will eventually need to use the toilet. Winter held off as long as she could, but eventually she was forced to roll out of the big bed and pad across the chilly floor, navigating by moonlight.

When she returned, Jane had kicked off the sheet and lay on her back, hands crossed behind her head. She was gloriously naked, dappled in silver and shadow by the moonlight, and Winter stopped for a moment at the foot of the bed to stare at her in wonder.

Jane tilted her head. “Is something wrong?”

Winter clambered up on the foot of the bed and crawled up beside Jane, pressing up against her. Jane put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a kiss, and Winter closed her eyes. After a moment, though, Jane pulled back.

“Something is wrong,” Jane said. “Winter, please. What’s going on?”

The knot in Winter’s chest, so recently dissolved, tied itself tighter than ever. She swallowed hard. “Obviously you heard. . what happened in the Triumph, this morning?”

“Of course I heard,” Jane said. “Nobody talks about anything else. Vhalnich called for volunteers, and then the Colonials marched in-”

She stopped. Winter squeezed her eyes shut, as though expecting a blow.

“You’re going back, aren’t you?” Jane said.

Winter nodded, her face pressed up against Jane’s shoulder. Tears were stinging her eyes.

“You don’t have to,” Jane said, after a moment. “You know that, whatever Vhalnich says. You can stay here with me.”

“There’s more to it than that.” Winter wanted, for a moment, to tell Jane about the Infernivore and everything that had happened in Khandar, but she quashed the impulse. She’d only think I’m crazy. “I have friends there. More than friends. The men in my company. . I have a responsibility.” Winter opened her eyes. “You ought to understand that.”

There was a long silence.

“I do,” Jane said. “At least, I think I do. But. . what happens afterward? If we win. Will you come back here?”

“I don’t know.”

“You have to come back.” Jane sat up, looking down at Winter. She sounded almost panicked. “Winter, please. You have to. I lost you once, and by all the fucking saints I’m never doing it again. Please. Promise me.”

“I don’t know.” Winter fought the urge to curl into a ball. “I don’t know what’s going to happen. Hell, I could be killed, or-”

“Don’t talk like that. Please. If something happened to you, I don’t. . I don’t think I could stand it. I don’t know what I’d do.”

“I’m sorry.” Winter didn’t know what else to say.

“You’re always apologizing to me.” Jane tried to smile, but even by moonlight Winter could tell it was paper-thin. “Have you ever thought that you should stop doing things that you need to apologize for, instead?”

“I don’t. .” Winter shook her head. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Of course you have a fucking choice! Everyone has a choice. You can stay here, and when Vhalnich comes looking for you we’ll shove a musket up his arse and send him running. If anyone tries to take you, I’d-”

“You know it isn’t like that. I have a responsibility to-”

“But not to me?”

“Jane.” The tears were leaking out now, in spite of Winter’s best efforts to stop them. “Don’t do this. Please.”

Jane rolled out of bed with a growl. Winter could hear her stalking through the room, floorboards creaking underfoot. There was a splash of water in the basin, and then the sound of shattering crockery.

Winter rolled over, facedown, burying her tears in the pillow. The bed underneath her was warm from Jane’s body.

Time passed, imperceptibly. Winter stayed with her face pressed against the tear-soaked pillow. She must have dozed, because she didn’t hear the floorboards announce Jane’s return, only felt the delicate touch of a finger at the small of her back, tracing a shivery trail up her spine.

“Don’t say anything,” Jane said. Winter felt the bed creak as she sat down beside her. “It’s my turn to apologize.”

“I didn’t mean for it to work out like this,” Winter tried to say.

“I didn’t catch a word of that,” Jane said. “You’re talking into the pillow.”

Winter rolled over. “I didn’t-”

She didn’t get to say it this time, either, because of something Jane did with her fingers. She gave a little yelp instead, and Jane laughed.

“It’s all right. I’ve worked it out.” Her smile turned wicked. “But I hope you weren’t planning on getting any sleep.”

In fact, Winter slept better than she had any right to. The sun was well up by the time she opened her eyes and stretched, savoring the pleasant ache in her body and the unaccustomed sensation of the bedsheets against bare skin. The bed was empty except for her. She could hear a distant clatter and clamor of voices that was presumably the girls fixing breakfast. Jane would be down there, presiding.

If we win. .

Winter shook her head. She just didn’t know. Janus had said the Black Priests would come after her, for bearing a demon. But if Orlanko’s beaten, they won’t have any allies in the city. Would Janus still need me?

She sat up, got out of bed, and found a fresh basin of water waiting on the table to replace the one Jane had smashed the night before. Her clothes were there, too, in a rumpled pile. She splashed some water on her face in an effort to bring herself a bit more fully out of sleep, and dressed in yesterday’s creased, sweaty outfit, wrinkling her nose a bit before doing up the buttons.

How quickly we forget. In Khandar she’d worn the same uniform and even the same underclothes for days at a time, and counted herself lucky if she had enough water to drink, let alone wash with. Too much city living is making me soft. She ran her hands through her hair, shook her head, and went down to see if there was anything left of breakfast.

On the way she saw a couple of girls, idling unconvincingly in the corridors, who hurried ahead of her and out of sight as she approached. Other than that, the corridors were empty, and Winter frowned as she came closer to the dining room. Is that a drum? What the hell’s going on?

She opened the door to find that the tables-and all the debris of the previous evening-had been pushed to the edges of the hall, leaving a broad clear space in the center. In that space, lined up in nearly even ranks, were Jane’s girls. There were about two hundred of them, Winter guessed, in a ten-deep formation, with one young woman on the end holding a child’s drum. When she caught sight of Winter, she beat a simple pattern, and every one of the girls straightened up and saluted. They had obviously been practicing this, and while they didn’t quite have the parade-ground snap, Winter had to admit they did a better job than most of the Patriot Guard.

Jane stood by one side of this formation, grinning in a way that Winter didn’t like at all.

“Good, aren’t they?” she said, catching Winter’s slack-jawed expression. “I thought we should get in a little practice before heading down to the Triumph.”

“What?” Winter shook her head. “Jane, what in Karis’ name are you doing?”

“We’re going to volunteer.” She looked over her shoulder. “Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir!” the girls said, in a soprano chorus. Clearly they’d practiced that as well.

“You’re going to volunteer,” Winter repeated, feeling sandbagged.

“To fight,” Jane explained patiently. “Vhalnich said he needs every man he can get to carry a musket. So I thought, why not us?”

Winter crossed the room, grabbed Jane’s arm, and dragged her without a word toward the door. Jane came along willingly enough, shouting over her shoulder as she went, “Chris! Get them to practice the salute a few more times!”

Once the door had closed behind them, Winter pushed Jane against the wall and looked her in the eye. “Have you gone totally out of your mind?”

Jane, still grinning, shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

“Why would you put them up to this?” Winter glared. “Is it supposed to be a joke? If so-”

“It’s not a joke.”

“Then you really want to take them to a battle? Some of those girls should still be playing with dolls, and you want to give them muskets?” Winter took a step back and shook her head. “I think you have gone mad.”

“They wouldn’t all fight, obviously.” Jane straightened her shirt and brushed herself off. “Just like with the Leatherbacks. But the younger ones could still make themselves useful somehow.”

“You’re really serious about this.” Winter drew in a long breath. “God above, where do I start?”

“I don’t see why you’re so shocked. We’ve been fighting Orlanko’s tax farmers for years.”

“This is not the same thing. A little brawl in an alley is one thing, but these are Royal Army troops. You don’t know what it’s like.”

“You did it, didn’t you? Why can’t they?”

Winter paused, temporarily thrown by this line of reasoning.

Jane crossed her arms. “Besides, your colonel seems to be taking any men who are willing. My girls may not be soldiers, but they’ll do a better job than some of the boys I’ve seen going to sign up.”

“But-” Winter gritted her teeth. “This is about me, isn’t it? You want to follow me.”

“That’s what it was, at first-”

“You can’t be serious. I don’t care how you feel-marching two hundred people into harm’s way just so you can be near me is wrong. It’s wrong, Jane.”

“I said at first.” Jane took a deep breath. “Listen. Last night I thought, all right, Winter ran away and joined the army, so why don’t I? I’ll just go after her and keep her safe. I got up early so I could make sure everything was arranged here for the next few days. But when I came downstairs, Chris told me she’d caught four of the younger girls trying to sneak out, because they wanted to try the same thing.”

“I would have thought you’d put a stop to that,” Winter grated.

“I was about to,” Jane said. “But I thought, I can’t tell them not to do what I was about to do myself, can I? And by then news had gotten around, and some of the others said they wanted to go as well. They want to help, Winter. They hate the tax farmers, and they hate Orlanko, and they want to help defend this city.”

“I don’t-they’re not thinking straight, then. None of them know what it’s like, either.”

“And the men who’re signing up do? You’re fine with every butcher’s boy and apprentice fisherman in the city carrying a musket in the ranks, but not us?”

“It’s. .” Winter stopped. She wanted to say, “It’s not the same.” But it is the same, isn’t it? She remembered watching the recruits at Fort Valor, thinking how young they were. Raw boys, enticed into the king’s service by the promises of recruiting sergeants, and thrown willy-nilly across thousands of miles of ocean to fight people they’d never heard of. These are girls-people-who want to defend their own home. “I don’t know.”

“Neither do I. But I didn’t think that was good enough to tell them they had to stop.”

Winter lowered her voice. “Even if it means some of them won’t come back? Because that is what it means. Even if we win.”

“You don’t think they know that?” Jane shook her head. “Our battles may be just ‘little brawls’ to you, but the tax farmers and their thugs aren’t fighting with cushions. Everyone in there knows what it’s like to lose someone.”

“But. .” Winter paused, still not quite believing she was being talked into this. “Look. Even if I agreed with you, Janus would never allow it. There’s no way we could sneak them all in as boys. Even getting you in”-Winter glanced at Jane’s chest, and blushed slightly-“might be difficult. If we tried it with more than a few, someone would give the game away.”

“You’re right,” Jane said.

“Then you don’t think we should do it?”

“I don’t think we should do it in disguise.”

“You want to just. . what? Walk up to the colonel with two hundred girls, and say you want to sign up to fight?”

Jane nodded. “Exactly.”

“He’ll think you’re mad.”

“Everyone already calls me Mad Jane.”

“But he’ll never agree to that!”

“He might,” Jane said, “if you were the one asking.”

An hour later, crossing Saint Vallax Bridge to the North Bank, Winter could still hardly believe what she was doing.

“Remember the deal,” she said to Jane, under her breath. “If Janus says no, that’s the end of it. For all of you.”

“I remember,” Jane said. She looked over her shoulder. “Jess! Keep ’em moving!”

The girls had started out in a column, and even tried to keep in step, but by the end of the first street they’d devolved into a mob. They’d passed over the Island like a gang of tourists, pointing at the grand buildings and laughing with one another. For most of them, this was the first time they’d been over the bridges from Southside, and they were as new to the city as country children, for all that they lived only a few miles away.

Jane’s lieutenants kept the group together and in motion. They still drew stares as they passed by, and the occasional shout. Some of these were obscene, and were answered cheerfully in kind, but most people just wanted to know where they were going. Every time this happened, one of the girls would sing out, “We’re going to join the army!” and everyone around them would start laughing.

Once they crossed Bridge Street, Winter quickly located the Twin Turrets by its distinctive silhouette and the squad of Mierantai guards outside. Two of these trotted over as soon as they saw the small army of young women coming, which led to a tricky situation. Winter didn’t want to reveal her male persona, not here, but the Mierantai sergeant was equally reluctant to let the troop onto the grounds. Eventually Jane convinced the guards to send someone to tell Janus that Winter Bailey was here with Mad Jane, and a few minutes later the reply came back. The Mierantai escorted the girls out to the back lawn and sent Winter and Jane up to the house itself.

“The colonel,” Jane whispered, as they passed through the elegantly appointed hall and climbed the main stairs. “He knows who you really are, right?”

Winter nodded. “He knows everything. And I mean everything. Don’t try to lie to him.”

For a moment, she felt a pang of conscience. She’d told Jane about her history with the army, but not that her original task had been to spy on the Leatherbacks. It didn’t matter, she told herself sternly, because she’d never actually done any spying to speak of, or made any reports.

“He must really be something,” Jane said. Her tone was dismissive. “The whole city seems to have gone mad for him.”

“He’s. . you’ll see.”

They reached the oak-paneled door to a study. Another guard stood outside it, and he exchanged salutes with their escort, then knocked politely.

“Yes?” Janus said.

“It’s the. . young women I mentioned, sir,” said the sergeant, with a gravelly mountain accent. “You said you’d see them.”

“Of course. Let them in.”

The Mierantai opened the door. The study was neatly furnished but obviously unused. Bookshelves lined the walls, full of volumes with neatly matched bindings. A desk stood in front of a window, empty except for an inkpot. In the center of the room was a large table, and here Janus had spread out a pair of maps: a large-scale one of the city, and a smaller one showing the surrounding area. He was looking down at them as the two women entered, making notes on a scrap of paper and occasionally picking up a pair of steel dividers to measure a distance.

Winter closed the door behind them, straightened to attention, and saluted. Janus looked up.

“Lieutenant Ihernglass. It’s good to see you again.” He laid his pen carefully aside where it wouldn’t drip on the maps. “I understand I have you to thank for the recent events in the Deputies.”

Winter felt herself flush. “No, sir. At least, not only me.” She gestured Jane forward. “This is Jane Verity.” As you well know. “Sometimes known on the streets as Mad Jane. She’s been of enormous assistance throughout.”

“Of course. My thanks to you as well, Miss Verity. I understand that you have something to talk to me about?” He cocked his head toward the window, gray eyes gleaming. “Presumably something to do with the company of young women who are currently engaged in defoliating my back garden.”

Winter winced. “Sorry about that, sir.”

“Don’t trouble yourself. Making the house our headquarters ensured that we would have soldiers tramping all over the grounds, and the gardens were bound to be casualties. Better that the flowers be picked before they’re stomped into the mud. So why have you brought me these young ladies?”

“They want to volunteer, sir.” Winter took a deep breath. “They’re Jane’s people.” The group you sent me to “infiltrate.” “The Leatherbacks.”

“I see.” Janus smiled. “I’m certain we can find work for them. In the medical services, or transport-”

Jane cut in. “No, sir. We want to fight.”

Janus’ smile faded slowly. He looked from Jane to Winter, and Winter found herself shrinking before that cool gray gaze. Then, abruptly, he turned away from both of them and went to the window. He looked down, and said nothing for a long moment.

“We’ve been fighting Orlanko’s tax farmers since before you arrived,” Jane said, nervously, eager to fill the silence. “Some of my girls even know how to handle a musket. We’ve been protecting ourselves in the Docks since-”

“I have three conditions,” Janus said, turning back from the window.

“What?” said Jane.

“What?” said Winter.

“The first is that your people will be evaluated by their commander, once they’ve had some training. Anyone that commander judges as not strong enough to use a weapon properly, or not fit to stand in a firing line, will remain behind, without argument.”

“Fine,” Jane said. “Provided you promise that your commander will give us a fair chance.”

Janus nodded. “Second, you will form a unit of your own, both in camp and in the field. You will take responsibility for keeping your people apart, and keeping others away.” He paused. “I will not have a unit in my command becoming a glorified brothel, understood?”

“A brothel?” Jane’s lip twisted. “If you knew what we’ve been through in the Docks-”

“I don’t know,” Janus said. “In fact, I know nothing about you, save for what Lieutenant Ihernglass has told me. Her recommendation counts for a great deal, which is why I’m willing to agree to this. . experiment. That, and the fact that we are going to need all the help we can get.” He shrugged. “Primarily, this condition is for your protection. Whatever the moral qualities of your young ladies, you can be certain that there will be those who will assume they intend to provide that kind of service. And some among them will be willing to take by force what is not offered freely. Keeping you together will help, but you must be prepared to set watches and guard yourselves closely.”

Jane still looked unhappy, but she nodded slowly. “I understand.”

“You will be mocked. Laughed at. Then, when it becomes clear you really mean to go through with it, you will be insulted, slandered, attacked from all sides. You understand what this means? To all of you?”

“Yes.” Jane faced Janus’ piercing stare head-on.

“And then there are the risks of the battlefield. Your ‘girls’ will be shot. Some of them will die. Others will make it back to the cutters, and have their limbs taken off with bone saws.”

“Just like all those boys you’re rounding up.”

“Some of them may be captured by the enemy,” Janus continued remorselessly. “In which case I doubt they will be accorded the usual status of prisoners under the rules of civilized war.”

“I understand,” Jane grated. “We all understand that. What’s your third condition?”

“You will be second in command of the unit, under one of my own officers.”

“Who?”

Janus smiled, just for a moment, the ghost of an expression. “Lieutenant Winter Ihernglass.”

“Wait,” Winter said. “Wait a minute.”

Jane, slowly, grinned. “I think we can accept that.”

“Sir!” Winter said. “What about the Seventh? What about my men?”

“Captain Warus has made appropriate assignments to fill the gaps in the Colonials during the voyage home,” Janus said. “First Battalion, Seventh Company has a new lieutenant. Lieutenant John Marsh, if I recall correctly.”

“You. . but. .” Winter’s throat was thick. “Sir. Those are my men. I’m. . responsible.”

Janus’ expression softened. “I understand, Lieutenant. Once the emergency is past, I will see what I can do. For the moment, however, it’s best for discipline if the Colonials go into battle under the officers they’ve had for the past three months, and in the meantime Miss Verity’s command requires your attention.”

“I. .” Winter shook her head, and her fists clenched. “Would that be my attention as Lieutenant Ihernglass, or as Winter Bailey?”

“The former. This unit must be seen to be commanded by an officer of the Colonials.” Janus paused. “I assume that most of Miss Verity’s companions are aware of your real identity?”

“Yes.” Whatever that is.

“In that case, I suggest you impress on them the need to keep it to themselves. If this experiment is a success, perhaps in time you can dispense with the charade. But until then. .”

“They can keep a secret,” Jane said. “Sir.”

“Very well.” He looked from Winter to Jane and back again. “Was that all?”

Jane glanced at Winter. “I. . think so.”

“Could I have a moment with the colonel?” Winter said. “Please.”

“Sure. I’ll be outside.”

The door opened and closed with a soft click. Janus waited patiently. Winter took a deep breath.

“I have to know,” she said. “You sent me to Jane.”

“I did,” Janus said. “I wasn’t one hundred percent certain, of course, that she was the friend you told me about, but the balance of probability seemed to indicate it.”

“And then. . all the rest. Jane stormed the Vendre. I ended up in the Deputies. And getting you out of prison. .” She hesitated. “Is that why you put me there? So I could do what I did?”

“Did I know what was going to happen, in other words?” Janus chuckled. “Ah, Lieutenant. You have no idea how easy it would be to cultivate a reputation for genius, simply by taking credit for things after the fact.”

“But-if you didn’t know, then why. .”

“Do you play chess?”

Winter blinked. “Not very well.”

“As a game, it has never interested me,” Janus said. “But it is useful as a metaphor. In chess, against a strong opponent, one can never plan with certainty. A good player does not claim to predict exactly what will happen, and position his pieces just so. Rather, he puts his pieces in the places where they will have the most opportunity to help him, whatever his opponent does.”

“And I’m just a piece in your game?”

“You’re a soldier under my command. A valuable asset. I guessed that having you by the side of the notorious Southside gang leader Mad Jane would be more likely to be a good use of your talents than, say, keeping you at court. As it happens, I was right, and Jane proved pivotal. But can I say I knew that would happen? No. Much as I might like to.”

“I understand.” Winter let out a long breath. “I wanted to thank you. For. . keeping your word, about Jane.”

“Of course.”

“And what about the Black Priests? It was one of them who assassinated Danton. You must have had the Colonials bring the tablets back from Khandar, but-”

“One thing at a time, Lieutenant,” Janus interrupted. “Right now Orlanko is the opponent in front of us. Once he is dealt with. . we shall see.”