There was a long pause. Then she swallowed as though she was about to puke. “You always said I had a devil in me.”

“Did I? Well, so do we all.” He waved a hand. “You’re no saint, that much we know. A child of a bloody time. But you’re nothing like as dark as you make out.”

“No?”

“I pretend to care for the men, but in truth I don’t give a damn whether they live or die. You always did care, but you pretend not to give a damn. I never saw you waste one man’s life. And yet they like me better. Hah. There’s justice. You always did the right thing by me, Monza. Even when you betrayed me, it was better than I deserved. I’ve never forgotten that time in Muris, after the siege, when you wouldn’t let the slavers have those children. Everyone wanted to take the money. I did. Faithful did. Even Benna. Especially Benna. But not you.”

“Only gave you a scratch,” she muttered.

“Don’t be modest, you were ready to kill me. These are ruthless times we live in, and in ruthless times, mercy and cowardice are entire opposites. We all turn to shit when we die, Monza, but not all of us are shit while we’re alive. Most of us are.” His eyes rolled to heaven. “God knows I am. But you never were.”

She blinked at him for a moment. “Will you help me?”

Cosca raised his flask again, realised it was empty and screwed the cap back on. The damn thing needed filling far too often. “Of course I’ll help you. There was never the slightest question in my mind. I have already organised the assault, in fact.”

“Then—”

“I just wanted to hear you ask. I must say I am surprised you did, though. The mere idea that the Thousand Swords would do the hard work of a siege, have one of the richest palaces in Styria at their mercy and walk away without a scrap of booty? Have you lost your reason? I couldn’t prise these greedy bastards away with a spade. We’re attacking at dawn tomorrow, with or without you, and we’ll be picking this place clean. More than likely my boys will have the lead off the roofs by lunchtime. Rule of Quarters, and all that.”

“And Orso?”

“Orso is yesterday’s man.” Cosca sat back and patted his goat fondly on her flank. “Do as you please with him.”

The Inevitable

The dice came up two and one.

Three years ago today, Sajaam bought Friendly’s freedom from Safety. Three years he had been homeless. He had followed three people, two men and one woman, all across Styria and back. In that time, the place he had hated least was the Thousand Swords, and not just because it had a number in its name, though that was, of course, a good start.

There was order, here, up to a point. Men had given tasks with given times to do them, knew their places in the big machine. The company was all neatly quantified in the notary’s three ledgers. Number of men under each captain, length of service, amount of pay, times reported, equipment hired. Everything could be counted. There were rules, up to a point, explicit and implied. Rules about drinking, gambling and fighting. Rules about use of whores. Rules about who sat where. Who could go where, and when. Who fought and who did not. And the all-important Rule of Quarters, controlling the declaration and assignment of booty, enforced with eagle-eyed discipline.