In the end, there were nine of them. Winter, Bobby, Sothe, and Andy, plus a sergeant and four rankers from the Girls’ Own. The sergeant, whose name was Maura, was a tall, impressively built woman whom Winter vaguely recognized as one of the Docks people from the days of the old Leatherbacks. In addition to the pair of pistols and saber that they all wore, she carried a long wooden staff, with which she was apparently formidable. Winter was surprised to find two of the Deslandai recruits, Joanna and Barley, among those Abby had picked to go with them.

“They were keen to help,” Maura said, her voice surprisingly high for such a large frame. “And I saw them get into some tight fighting in the woods at Jirdos. When Jo hits someone, down they go. And Barley knows what she’s doing with those knives.”

Winter blinked, a little confused. “I thought your name was—”

“They call me Barley,” the slight woman said, with a faint sigh.

“Because she’s barely there,” Maura said. “Get it?”

“Is it a problem?” Winter said, trying not to smile.

“You might as well join in. No stopping them at this point, sir.”

The other two rankers, Jenna and Vicky, Winter had never met. The idea that there were women under her command that she’d never met, whose names she’d never even heard, filled her with a momentary guilt, but she shoved it aside. They were both Vordanai, who’d volunteered after the declaration of war. Jenna was a Docks woman, about Winter’s age, with prematurely gray hair tied up in a coiled braid. Vicky was a Northsider, daughter of a successful livery stable owner, who’d run away to join the army as soon as she heard the Girls’ Own was recruiting. They both offered Winter crisp salutes, but the expression on their faces made her uncomfortable. It was the look of women meeting a legend. When did I become a legend?

They waited at the foot of the bridge, as the sun slid past the horizon, until a couple of howitzer shells went past, both splashing noisily into the river. Then, with Sothe in the lead, they ran, sprinting across the cracked flagstones of the Grand Span. Here and there, corpses dotted the bridge, unlucky soldiers who’d been caught in the blasts. Winter kept her head down and her mind on her footing. The bridge was nearly a quarter of a mile long, and she was pleased to note she wasn’t the only one breathing hard by the time they reached the cover of the buildings on the other side. Sothe and Bobby look like they could keep running all day, though.