List walked alongside the historian, leading his horse by the reins. ‘It still astonishes me that they persist in the notion that we will survive this journey.’

Duiker glanced over in surprise. ‘Are you lacking such faith, then, Corporal?’

‘We’ll never reach Aren, Historian. Yet the fools compile their petitions, their grievances – against the very people keeping them alive.’

‘There’s great need to maintain the illusion of order, List. In us all.’

The young man’s expression turned wry. ‘I missed your moment of sympathy back there, sir.’

‘Obviously.’

They left the nobles’ encampment and entered the mayhem of the wagons bearing wounded. Voices moaned a constant chorus of pain. A chill crept over Duiker. Even wheeled hospitals carried with them that pervasive atmosphere of fear, the sounds of defiance and the silence of surrender. Mortality’s many comforting layers had been stripped away, revealing wracked bones, a sudden comprehension of death that throbbed like an exposed nerve.

Awareness and revelations thickened the prairie air in a manner priests could only dream of for their temples. To fear the gods is to fear death. In places where men and women are dying, the gods no longer stand in the spaces in between. The soothing intercession is gone. They’ve stepped back, back through the gates, and watch from the other side. Watch and wait.

‘We should’ve gone around,’ List muttered.

‘Even without that man in need on your horse,’ Duiker said, ‘I would have insisted we pass through this place, Corporal.’

‘I’ve learned this lesson already,’ List replied, a tautness in his tone.

‘From your earlier words, I would suggest that the lesson you have learned is different from mine, lad.’

‘This place encourages you, Historian?’

‘Strengthens, Corporal, though in a cold way, I admit. Never mind the games of Ascendants. This is what we are. The endless struggle laid bare. Gone is the idyllic, the deceit of self-import as well as the false humility of insignificance. Even as we battle wholly personal battles, we are unified. This is the place of level earth, Corporal. That is its lesson, and I wonder if it is an accident that that deluded mob in gold threads must walk in the wake of these wagons.’

‘Either way, few revelations have bled back to stain noble sentiments.’

‘No? I smelled desperation back there, Corporal.’

List spied a healer and they delivered the servant into the woman’s blood-smeared hands.

The sun was low on the horizon directly ahead by the time they reached the Seventh’s main camp. The faint smoke from the dung fires hung like gilded gauze over the ordered rows of tents. Off to one side two squads of infantry had set to in a contest of belt-grip, using a leather-strapped skullcap for a ball. A ring of cheering, jeering onlookers had gathered. Laughter rang in the air.