Catcher ignored the latter remark. We have achieved most of our goals. Only one task remains unfulfilled. The voice he chose was deep, sonorous, slow, a speech-makers voice. The fighting may go either way. Its too soon to tell. Your Captain has given this rabble backbone. But lest defeat catch you up, get your charges moving.

A few wagons were creaking down toward us already. I shrugged, passed the word, found the next man who needed my attention. While I worked, I asked Catcher, If the thing is in the balance, shouldnt you be over there pounding on the Rebel?

Im doing the Ladys bidding, Croaker. Our goals are almost met. Linger and Moth are no more. Sidle is grievously injured. Shifter has accomplished his deceit. There is naught left but to deprive the Rebel of their general.

I was confused. Divergent thoughts found their ways to my tongue and betrayed themselves. But shouldnt we try to break them here? And, This northern campaign has been hard on the Circle. First Raker, then Whisper. Now Linger and Moth.

With Sidle and Harden to go. Yes. They beat us again and again, and each time it costs them the heart of their strength. He gazed downhill, toward a small company coming our way. Raven was in the lead. Catcher faced the wagon park. The Hanged Man stopped gesturing and struck a pose: man listening.

Suddenly, Soulcatcher resumed talking. Whisper has breached the walls of Frost. Nightcrawler has negotiated the treacherous menhirs on the Plain of Fear, and approaches the suburbs of Thud. The Faceless is on the Plain now, moving toward Barns. They say Parcel committed suicide last night at Ade, to avoid capture by Bonegnasher. Things arent the disaster they seem, Croaker.

The hell they arent, I thought. Thats the east. This is here. I could not get excited about victories a quarter of the world away. Here we were getting stomped, and if the Rebel broke through to Charm, nothing that happened in the east would matter.

Raven halted his group and approached me alone. What do you want them to do?

I assumed the Captain had sent him, so was sure the Captain had ordered the withdrawal. He would not playgames for Catcher. Put the ones weve treated into the wagons. The teamsters were arraying themselves in a nice line. Send a dozen or so walking wounded with each wagon. Me and One-Eye and the rest will keep cutting and sewing. What?

He had a look in his eye. I did not like it. He glanced at Soulcatcher. So did I.

I havent told him yet, Catcher said.

Told me what? I knew I would not like it when heard I it. They had that nervous smell about them. It screamed bad news.

Raven smiled. Not a happy smile, but a sort of gruesome rictus. You and me, weve been drafted again, Croaker.