Gamet looked up as the Adjunct entered the cutters’ tent. She was pale – from lack of sleep, no doubt – and had removed her helm, revealing her short-cropped, mouse-coloured hair.

‘I will not complain,’ Gamet said, as the healer finally moved away.

‘Regarding what?’ the Adjunct asked, head turning to scan the other cots on which wounded soldiers lay.

‘The removal of my command,’ he replied.

Her gaze fixed on him once more. ‘You were careless, Fist, in placing yourself at such risk. Hardly cause to strip you of your rank.’

‘My presence diverted marines rushing to the aid of their comrades, Adjunct. My presence resulted in lives lost.’

She said nothing for a moment, then stepped closer. ‘Every engagement takes lives, Gamet. This is the burden of command. Did you think this war would be won without the spilling of blood?’

He looked away, grimacing against the waves of dull pain that came from forced healing. The cutters had removed a dozen shards of clay from his legs. Muscles had been shredded. Even so, he knew that the Lady’s luck had been with him this night. The same could not be said for his hapless horse. ‘I was a soldier once, Adjunct,’ he rasped. ‘I am one no longer. This is what I discovered tonight. As for being a Fist, well, commanding house guards was a fair representation of my level of competence. An entire legion? No. I am sorry, Adjunct...’

She studied him, then nodded. ‘It will be some time before you are fully recovered from your wounds. Which of your captains would you recommend for a temporary field promotion?’

Yes, the way it should be done. Good. ‘Captain Keneb, Adjunct.’

‘I concur. And now I must leave you. The Khundryl are returning.’

‘With trophies, I hope.’

She nodded.

Gamet managed a smile. ‘That is well.’

The sun was climbing near zenith when Corabb Bhilan Thenu’alas reined in his lathered horse alongside Leoman. Other warriors were straggling in all the time, but it might be days before the scattered elements of the company were finally reassembled. In light armour, the Khundryl had been able to maintain persistent contact with the Raraku horse warriors, and had proved themselves fierce and capable fighters.

The ambush had been reversed, the message delivered with succinct precision. They had underestimated the Adjunct.

‘Your first suspicions were right,’ Corabb growled as he settled down in his saddle, the horse trembling beneath him. ‘The Empress chose wisely.’

Leoman’s right cheek had been grazed by a crossbow quarrel, leaving a crusted brown line that glistened in places through the layer of dust. At Corabb’s observation he grimaced, leaned to one side and spat.

‘Hood curse those damned marines,’ Corabb continued. ‘If not for their grenados and those assault crossbows, we would have taken them all down. Would that I had found one of those crossbows – the loading mechanism must be—’