“No, sir,” she said. Her Vordanai was still a bit broken. “You already say . . . everything I want to say.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“Hard to see Mother,” the girl said. “I thought she never like me. See her crying . . .” She shook her head.

Winter fought the urge to tell Anne-Marie to run after her mother, hug her, and go home. Not my choice to make. Even if all that was waiting for the girl was a musket ball on some muddy battlefield, it was her choice whether or not to go there.

“You’re doing all right, then?” Winter said, a bit lamely.

“The works hurts,” Anne-Marie said. “But I stick to it. Learning better Vordanai, and how to make jokes.”

“That’s good.” Winter had no doubt the Girls’ Own would have Anne-Marie swearing and telling filthy stories like a native in no time. “That’s all, then.”

“Thank you, sir.” Anne-Marie saluted and went out, and Cyte returned.

“Would you have credited it?” Winter said, nodding at the retreating girl.

“Not a bit,” Cyte said. “But I’d bet you she makes corporal before the end of the year.”

“No bet,” Winter said. “I’m inclined to think it’ll be sooner.” She noticed Cyte was holding a crisp white paper, folded and sealed. “What’ve you got there?”

“Ask, and you shall receive,” Cyte said. “Orders from the general. There was a courier waiting when I went to retrieve Anne-Marie.”

Winter reached out eagerly, and Cyte handed the packet over. The seal was army blue and stamped with the official Ministry device, and Winter broke it open with her thumb. Inside was square onionskin paper, folded many times over and bearing the sweeping lines of a map in what Winter thought was Janus’ own delicate hand. The letter itself read:

Colonel Ihernglass,

The time has come for your to rejoin us, somewhat sooner than expected. I need you to do everything in your power to bring your regiment to the location marked on the enclosed map, on the morning of the day there noted. You will be met there by friendly units with further instructions.

I know this will be difficult, but you have yet to disappoint me. If you succeed, the entire Army of the East—all of Vordan—will owe you and yours a great debt.

Lose no time that can be avoided. I rely on you.

-J

Winter blinked, and showed the note to Cyte, who had already unfolded the map. The lieutenant gave a low whistle.

“That’s . . . Difficult isn’t going to be the half of it.” She stiffened her fingers into a pair of dividers and walked them across the map. “That’s close to a hundred miles. If he wants us there in the morning, and assuming we leave tomorrow, we’ll be four days on the march. And it looks like there’s a good road only half the way. After that we’re in the backcountry.”