Hanna snorted. “I already sent all them that can walk back to their units. These are the ones that’re going to have to be left behind.” She lowered her voice. “Or those who aren’t going to make it, regardless. I’ve got two legs with infected punctures that need to come off, but nothing to do it with. A few others . . .” She shook her head.

Winter looked over the injured soldiers, feeling sick to her stomach. She paused and turned to Jane. “Is that Molly?”

Jane nodded. “She and Becks joined up before we left Vordan.”

Molly had cut her ringletted hair back to a boyish fuzz, and marching had melted the plumpness from her face. Winter remembered her and Becks at the Sworn Cathedral, helping to rescue Danton when Orlanko tried to arrest the Deputies-General. I didn’t know she’d come along. She didn’t look injured, but her cheeks were flushed and her breathing shallow.

“What’s wrong with her?” Winter said.

“Shaking fever,” Hanna said. “Exhaustion and damp bring it on. Too many bad vapors.”

“Will she be all right?”

“If we had her in the dry in front of a roaring fire, with something besides hardtack to eat, she might be. Out here?” Hanna spit on the grass. “Might as well start digging a grave. She’s not the only one.”

More names on the list. Winter closed her eyes for a moment and fought down a sour taste at the back of her throat. She turned to Jane, who was doing her best to remain expressionless. Winter knew her too well for that, though. There was accusation in those green eyes, and she found herself looking away.

“Find some volunteers to stay with them,” Winter said. “It shouldn’t be difficult. Four rankers. Leave as much food as you can spare, and tell them to keep a fire going. The wagon teams have cutters. They’ll do what they can when they get here.”

“That could be days,” Jane said very quietly.

“I know.” Winter gritted her teeth. “We haven’t got a choice.”

That became her mantra, repeated at every step along the road on a day that seemed as if it would never end. We haven’t got a choice. She couldn’t bring herself to fail Janus, not if there was any other option, and that meant this. Winter started at the head of the column, but it wasn’t long before she drifted rearward, the bigger and stronger soldiers passing her by as the weaker and smaller filtered toward the back. Mud sucked at her feet with every step, clinging to her boots in great grimy chunks, making her feel as though she wore iron weights around her ankles.