As the quartermaster led the prisoners out of the tent, Galar turned to Castegan. ‘Get out. I will speak in private with Faror Hend now.’

‘Consider well,’ said Castegan in a growl, ‘the honour of the Hust Legion.’

‘See to your own, Castegan!’ Galar snapped, eyes holding on Faror where she sat.

The man straightened. ‘When it is all I have left to defend, Galar Baras, I require no admonition from you.’

Galar turned on him. ‘Is it honour you now fight for? I would think guilt a more apt word for what gnaws at your soul. Swallow it down whole, Castegan, and muse long on its weight. At the very least, it will keep your feet on the ground.’

‘Commander Toras Redone defied my seniority here—’

‘Defied? No. She questioned it. You may have me in years, but not years in service to the Hust. I will, if you ask it, release you to return to your original legion. I am sure you will have plenty of intelligence to sell to Urusander.’

Castegan was trembling as he faced his commander. ‘You make a dangerous offer, Galar Baras.’

‘Why? This is not a gale you need face. Leave it to push you round, and, like a hand at your back, send you running home.’

Saying nothing more, Castegan strode from the tent.

After a long moment, Galar Baras faced Faror Hend once again. ‘What Lord Ilgast Rend did was unforgivable.’

She snorted. ‘He need not beg for forgiveness any longer, sir, now that he lies dead.’

‘Faror, Lord Silchas Ruin has given me command of all forces but the Houseblades of the highborn Houses. For all that, I expect it to be temporary. When Lord Anomander returns, it will be Silchas taking my place.’

She blinked up at him. ‘Toras Redone will return to command the Hust, sir.’

‘I think not.’

‘Her husband will see to it.’

Galar Baras studied her briefly, and then shrugged. ‘Perhaps. But we cannot rely upon that. The Wardens are no more. I am attaching you to my staff, elevating your rank to captain. You will command a company, Faror Hend.’

‘Sir, I cannot. Calat Hustain is my commander still.’

‘He has lost his command. Faror, I have word – there are survivors from the battle. Not many, but some. Seen on the south tracks. They are fleeing here, captain.’

Oh, gods below. ‘Sir, send a rider to Yedan Monastery. Captain Finarra Stone is there. She will be the ranking officer, not me.’

‘Until then, it will have to be you, Faror Hend.’

‘Sir, I do not want a Hust sword.’

Galar strode to the woodstove. He kicked the latch so that the grilled door opened, and then crouched to fling in handfuls of dung-chips. ‘There was a time,’ he said, ‘when the Hust Legion was a name spoken of with pride. For all the tales of cursed weapons and such, we stood against the Forulkan. We saved not just Kharkanas, but all of Kurald Galain.’