‘You can stuff your tradition, Cadian!’

Prassan toyed with the fork in his hand idly, watching. The big man moved to take a plate, and Prassan moved so quickly it was a blur. He pinned the big man’s hand to the table.

The servers looked on appalled as blood began to stain the white tablecloths. ‘Oops,’ Prassan said, and turned to take a plate. He moved along the line and scraped up the last of the fried slab.

Someone took his shoulder and spun him about. It was the short guy. Prassan stepped in close and put the edge of his knife to the other man’s throat.

‘I don’t think your commanding officer would like it if I killed you here. Would you like to step outside?’

The other man blanched.

‘Is there a problem?’ a voice said.

It was Adjutant Mere. He addressed Prassan.

‘No problem, sir,’ Prassan said.

Mere looked at the Rifles officer, and the other man stepped back and smiled. Mere nodded. He saw the man with his hand pinned to the table. He addressed the butler. ‘This gentleman seems to have had an unfortunate accident. Can you assist him, please?’

Mere stood watching as the Drookian was led away. The other two backed off, and left Prassan standing alone.

‘Sorry, sir,’ Prassan started, but Mere put up a hand.

At that moment, Bendikt called Mere over. A second later the adjutant called for silence.

The Munitorum officer made the announcement. ‘Officers! I have some good news to share. This month our casualties were five per cent less than we had predicted. We also estimate that the enemy lost ten per cent more than we had hoped.’ He went through the figures that he had been given and at the end he paused for dramatic effect. ‘And this means that the completion date for the siege has been reassessed by the adepts of the Munitorum. I am pleased to say that the projected date has changed from fifteen years to only seven.’

There was a begrudging round of applause.

Bendikt put his hand up. ‘Of course, the Emperor cannot wait that long. There are other wars that He wants us for. In the morning your troops will advance back into the attacking trenches. We need to wear the enemy down. We need to pin him down. Hold his attention before we strike him where he least expects it. I am happy to share with you all the news that even as we speak, the Cadian Hundred-and-First have forced a landing upon the island of Tor Kharybdis!’

There had been a complete black-out as far as the landings were concerned, but an air of excitement now spread through the room. There was a cheer and then a round of applause.

The resentment that had built up over the previous weeks turned to relief and joy.

The battle would surely be over soon, the listeners thought. The Cadians were taking the field!

Six

SIX