The four mages scrambled to his side and all were babbling. ‘A dozen sorcerers!’ ‘Drawing from the same warren!’ ‘And it’s clean and ugly!’ ‘They’re weaving, Quick!’ ‘Working togeth—’

‘Be quiet, all of you!’

‘We’re all going to die!’

‘Dammit, Toes, shut up!’

He glared until the four men settled, surveyed the bleak expressions for a moment, then grinned. ‘Twelve of the bastards, right? And who is this, standing here before you? Quick Ben. Right? Ben Adaephon Delat. Now, if any of you has already filled his breeches, go change, then rejoin the companies you’ve been attached to – whatever gets through me is for you to handle. Any way you can.’ Glancing over, he saw Dujek, Paran and Blend approaching, the latter looking winded and somewhat wild-eyed. ‘All right, Cadre, dismissed.’

The mages scurried away.

Dujek was wearing his full armour – the first time Quick Ben had seen that in years. The wizard nodded in greeting.

Paran spoke, ‘Quick Ben, Blend here’s delivered some bad—’

‘I know, Captain. I’ve split up my cadre, so we won’t get taken out in a clump. I’ll draw their attention to me, right here—’

‘Hold on,’ Dujek growled. ‘That cadre ain’t a cadre, and worse: they know it. Secondly, you’re not a combat mage. If we lose you early ...’

The wizard shrugged. ‘High Fist, I’m all you’ve got. I’ll keep ‘em busy for a while.’

Paran said, ‘I’ll assign the Bridgeburners to guard you – we’ve resupplied on munitions—’

‘He’s being generous,’ Dujek cut in. ‘Half a crate, and most of it close-in stuff. If the enemy gets near enough for them to have to use it, you’re way too close to one stray arrow headed your way, Wizard. I’m not happy with this, not happy at all.’

‘Can’t say I am, either,’ Quick Ben replied. He waited. He could hear the High Fist’s molars grinding.

‘Captain?’ Dujek grunted.

‘Aye, sir?’

‘Are the cussers and crackers in place? Can we collapse this damned hillside?’

‘Hedge says it’s all rigged, High Fist. We can bury every tunnel and flatten every entrenchment.’

‘So, we could just pull out and leave the Pannions to retake ... a steaming mess of nothing.’

‘We could, sir.’

‘Meaning, we’ll have travelled half the continent, only to retreat before our first engagement.’

‘A temporary retreat, sir,’ Paran pointed out.

‘Or we can bloody their noses ... maybe take out ten thousand Beklites, ten, twelve mages and a Septarch. At the possible cost of this army, including Quick Ben here. Gentlemen, is that a fair exchange?’

‘That is for you to decide—’ Paran began, but Dujek cut him off.

‘No, Captain. It isn’t. Not this time.’

Quick Ben met the High Fist’s eyes. I made a promise to Burn. The captain and I had . . . plans. To keep all of that, I say no right now. And we blow the entrenchments and scamper. But then again, I’m a soldier. A Bridgeburner. And the brutal truth is, tactically, it’s more than a fair exchange. We make it for Whiskeyjack. For the siege to come. We save lives. He glanced at Paran, saw the same knowledge in the captain’s eyes. The wizard turned back to Dujek. ‘High Fist, it is a fair exchange.’