The scout held up a trembling hand, a spatter of blood on his long thumb. 'Please… this is not my war I—'

The sword carved a deep wound out of his face, through his mouth, splitting his lower jaw apart. He made a hissing moan. The next blow cut his head half off. He rolled over, dark blood pouring out into the dark earth, clutching at the stubble of the shorn crop. The sword broke the back of his skull open and he was still.

It seemed that Ferro was not in a merciful mood that day.

The butchered scout's horse stared dumbly at her. 'What?' she snapped. Perhaps she had changed, out there in the west, but no one changes that much. One less soldier in Uthman's army was a good thing, wherever he came from. She had no need to make excuses for herself. Especially not to a horse. She grabbed at its bridle and gave it a yank.

Vallimir might have been a pink fool, but Ferro had to admit that he had managed the ambush well. Ten scouts lay dead in the village square, their torn clothes flapping in the breeze, their blood smeared across the dusty ground. The only Union casualty was the idiot who had been jerked over by his own rope, covered in dust and scratches.

A good day's work, so far.

A soldier poked at one of the corpses with his boot. 'So this is what the Gurkish look like, eh? Not so fearsome now.'

'These are not Gurkish,' said Ferro. 'Kadiri scouts, pressed into service. They did not want to be here any more than you wanted them here.' The man stared back at her, puzzled and annoyed. 'Kanta is full of people. Not everyone with a brown face is Gurkish, or prays to their God, or bows to their Emperor.'

'Most do.'

'Most have no choice.'

'They're still the enemy,' he sneered.

'I did not say we should spare them.' She shouldered past, back through the door into the building with the bell tower. It seemed Vallimir had managed to take a prisoner after all. He and some others were clustered nervously around one of the scouts, on his knees with his arms bound tightly behind him. He had a bloody graze down one side of his face, staring up with that look that prisoners tend to have.

Scared.

'Where… is… your… main… body?' Vallimir was demanding.

'He does not speak your tongue, pink,' snapped Ferro, 'and shouting it will not help.'

Vallimir looked angrily round at her. 'Perhaps we should have brought someone with us who speaks Kantic,' he said with heavy irony.

'Perhaps.'

There was a long pause, while Vallimir waited for her to say more, but she said nothing. Eventually, he gave a long sigh. 'Do you speak Kantic?'

'Of course.'

'Then would you be so kind as to ask him some questions for us?'

Ferro sucked her teeth. A waste of her time, but if it had to be done, it was best done quickly. 'What shall I ask him?'