'Er… of course.' Opker rose to follow the Goodman out of the tent, and Jezal smiled nervously. There was no doubt that the Tanner had heard the exchange, but he grinned on as though the future of his erstwhile companion was no longer any of his concern.

'I must apologise for my associate. In a matter like this, you can't please everyone.' He gave a flamboyant wave of his hand. 'But don't worry. I'll give the little people a big speech, and tell them we have all we fought for, and they'll soon be off back to their homes with no real harm done. Some few will be determined to make trouble perhaps, but I'm sure you can round them up without much effort, eh, Colonel Luthar?'

'Er… well,' mumbled Jezal, left without the slightest idea of what was going on. 'I suppose that we—'

'Excellent.' The Tanner sprang to his feet. 'I fear I must now take my leave. All kinds of errands to be about. Never any peace, eh, Colonel Luthar? Never the slightest peace.' He exchanged a long glance with Bayaz, then ducked out into the daylight and was gone.

'If anyone should ask,' murmured the First of the Magi in Jezal's ear, 'I would tell them that it was a testing negotiation, against sharp and determined opponents, but that you held your nerve, reminded them of their duty to king and country, implored them to return to their fields, and so forth.'

'But…' Jezal felt like he wanted to cry, he was so baffled. Hugely baffled and hugely relieved at once. 'But I—'

'If anyone should ask.' There was an edge to Bayaz' voice that implied the episode was now finished with.

Beloved of the Moon

« ^ »

The Dogman stood, squinting into the sun, and watched the Union lads all shuffling past the other way. There's a certain look the beaten get, after a fight. Slow-moving, hunched-up, mud-spattered, mightily interested in the ground. Dogman had seen that look before often enough. He'd had it himself more'n once. Sorrowful they'd lost. Shamed they'd been beaten. Guilty, to have given up without getting a wound. Dogman knew how that felt, and a gnawing feeling it could be, but guilt was a sight less painful than a sword-cut, and healed a sight quicker.