The Infernal Battalion (The Shadow Campaigns #5)

Alex’s hands clenched into fists. “Orlanko was there?”

“He was a guest of the King of Borel,” Sothe said. “The faction in their court that wanted war saw him as a potential candidate for a puppet ruler of Vordan. When the other faction won out, Orlanko attempted to stop them with his usual subtlety.”

“He tried to murder everyone,” Winter guessed.

“Precisely. Fortunately, Marcus d’Ivoire and I were able to thwart him. Duke Dorsay’s faction won out, and Orlanko fled.”

“Damn,” Alex muttered. “Damn, damn, damn.”

Abraham touched her shoulder. “There’ll be another chance,” he said.

“Orlanko hurt you?” Winter said.

“His thug Andreas killed the closest thing I had to a father,” Alex grated. “Then he handed me over to the Penitent Damned, and they kept me drugged and chained to a fucking cart for a thousand miles.”

Ennika bowed her head, her shoulders hunched.

Sothe cleared her throat. “If it helps,” she said, “Andreas is dead. I trapped and killed him during the revolution. And I was just as determined to make sure Orlanko did not escape justice for his crimes. I followed him when he fled from his Borelgai protectors and I cornered him and the last of his minions in Vorsk.” Her face was perfectly calm. “I killed them all.”

“He’s dead?” Winter said. “Orlanko’s dead?”

Sothe nodded. “For certain.”

Alex let out her breath with a hiss, her hands still clenched tight.

“I found Ennika among Orlanko’s entourage,” Sothe said. “She was his link to the Black Priests.”

“What do you mean, link?” Winter said.

“Paired demons,” Ennika said in a low voice. “My sister and I both intoned their names, and our minds were linked. What one of us thought, felt, or heard could be known instantly by the other. There are many such demons, and we who bear them serve the pontifex and the Church by passing on their words in secret.” Her lip twisted. “Orlanko was never worthy of such trust.”

“I thought she might be useful,” Sothe said. “So I kept her alive and brought her with me.”

“Even though I told you,” Ennika said. “I told you that I was broken.”

“Explain it to them,” Sothe ordered.

Ennika took a deep breath. “My sister. She’s... gone.”

“Dead?” Abraham said sympathetically.

“No,” Ennika said, voice thick with frustration. “I would feel it if she died. She was... taken. Vanished. I don’t know how to explain it. The link wasn’t severed; it’s just... empty.”

“Where was your sister?” Winter said, certainty rising in her mind.

“Elysium. One half of every link was kept in Elysium, while the other was sent out into the world.”

Winter looked at Abraham, and his eyes went wide.

“The Beast,” he said. “She was taken by the Beast.”

Sothe nodded. “We had no idea at first. I had... other tasks to perform, but I kept Ennika with me.”

“I told you to kill me,” Ennika said, sounding like a sulky child.

Sothe ignored her. “Until one day she felt something over her link again.”

There was a long silence.

“The Beast talked to you?” Winter said.

“No,” Ennika said. “It’s more complicated than that. The Beast has more than a single mind.”

“I don’t pretend to understand what’s happened,” Sothe said. “But apparently it is possible for a mind taken over by the Beast to retain its... integrity, so to speak, and some sort of independent existence. One of these independent minds discovered a way to use Ennika’s link, through some remnant of her sister.”

“She’s not dead,” Ennika said. “Worse than dead. Broken into pieces, but still knowing...” She trailed off, head bowed.

“How do you know it’s not the Beast itself, trying to trick you?” Abraham said.

“Precisely what I thought at first,” Sothe said. “The explanation he offered seemed... far-?fetched. But after several conversations, I was persuaded that it was, at least, a lead worth following, especially in light of events. The entity claims to be working against the Beast, and he told me that the most important thing was that I come to help you. He kept me apprised of your progress, which he could apparently observe through the Beast’s bodies. I came here, with the Swallow, to wait until you arrived.”

“That’s...” Winter shook her head. “I don’t know. It seems mad.”

“Who was he?” Alex said. “This entity. You said he was a mind inside the Beast?”

“I can’t know for certain, obviously,” Sothe said. “But he claims to be Janus bet Vhalnich.”





22



Marcus


The Army of the Republic came to rest, at last, behind the line of the river Rhyf.

In the end, they didn’t have much choice. The sick lists had burgeoned with each dawn-to-dusk march, and more horses broke down with every passing mile. Wagons were consolidated, and then consolidated again for lack of teams to pull them, inessential supplies left behind and wounded who could barely walk turned out to fend for themselves. By the time the Rhyf came into sight, a broad ribbon of silver in the midafternoon sun, there were barely enough animals to pull the guns.

If they’d tried to keep on at that pace, Marcus was certain there’d have been a mutiny. Instead, they’d crossed the river at a midsized town called Gond and made camp in the fields outside it on the south bank, much to the dismay of the local farmers. The townspeople had been even less happy when Colonel Archer began laying powder against the bridge supports, ready for a quick demolition.

Give-Em-Hell’s light cavalry remained on the north bank, keeping the enemy scouts back. The next morning, while the exhausted infantry rested in its camp, cavalry detachments and engineers rode east and west along the river, looking for crossings. By nightfall they’d identified three more bridges and one possible ford. Marcus ordered the former prepared for destruction, and artillery dug in around the latter.

If we have to make a stand, he reflected, looking at the map that night, it’s not a bad position. The Rhyf was narrow but deep, without many easy crossings. As long as we get enough warning, we can shadow any force on the north bank and be waiting if they try to get over the river. Pushing through a river crossing in the face of determined resistance was one of the bloodiest prospects in warfare, even with a big advantage in numbers. Which Janus has, of course. But at least we can make it difficult for him.

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