'Bread.' Dogman sniffed at it, but it smelled alright. 'What the hell's all that about?' The man had a whole heap of loaves on a cart. He was handing them out to any soldier that came past, Union or Northman. 'Who's he, anyway?'

Grim shrugged. 'A baker?'

There weren't much time to think on it. They were all getting shoved together into a big space full of men pushing, and grumbling, and making mess. All kind of soldiers and some old men and women round the edge, starting to get tired of cheering. A well-clipped lad in a black uniform was standing on top of a cart in the midst of this madness and screeching like a lost goat.

'Eighth regiment, towards the Four Corners! Ninth towards the Agriont! If you're with the tenth you came through the wrong damn gate!'

'Thought we were to the docks, Major!'

'Poulder's division are dealing with the docks! We're for the north part of the city! Eighth regiment towards the Four Corners!'

'I'm with the Fourth!'

'Fourth? Where's your horse?'

'Dead!'

'What about us?' roared Logen. 'Northmen!'

The lad stared at them, wide-eyed, then he threw up his hands. 'Just get in there! If you see any Gurkish, kill them!' He turned back towards the gate, jerking his thumb over his shoulder into the city. 'Ninth regiment towards the Agriont!'

Logen scowled. 'We'll get no sense here.' He pointed down a wide street, full of walking soldiers. Some great tall tower poked up above the buildings. Huge thing, must've been built on a hill. 'We get split up. we'll just aim at that.' He struck off down that street and Dogman came after, Grim behind with Shivers and his boys, Red Hat and his crew further back. Wasn't long before the crowds thinned out and they were marching down empty streets, quiet except for some birds calling, happy as ever, not caring a thing for there having been a battle just now, and caring even less that there was another one coming.

Dogman wasn't giving it a lot of thought either, for all he had his bow loose in one hand. He was too busy staring at the houses down either side of the road. Houses the like of which he'd never seen in his life. Made of little square, red stones, and black wood filled in with white render. Each one of 'em was big enough for a chieftain to be happy with, most with glass windows in as well.

'Bloody palaces, eh?'

Logen snorted. 'You think this is something? You should see this Agriont we're aiming at. The buildings they got there. You never dreamed o' the like. Carleon's a pigsty beside this place.'