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‘So ive answer to, Gamet Indeed, it takes words from the throat, yet the silence it leaves behind-that silence screams ’

Disco

‘Pray remind me,’ the Red Blade went on, ‘that Tavore is equal to this task’

Is that even possible ? ‘She is’ She must be Else we are lost

‘One day, Gamet, you shall have to tell me what she has done, to earn such loyalty as you display’

Gods, what answer to make to that? Damn you, Tene, can you not see the truth before you? She has done… nothing I beg you Leave an old man to his faith

‘Wish whatever you like,’ Gesler growled, ‘but faith is for fools’

Strings cleared the dust from his throat and spat onto the side of the track Their pace was torturously slow, the three squads trailing the wagon loaded doith their supplies ‘What’s your point?’ he asked the sergeant beside him ‘A soldier knows but one truth, and that truth is, without faith, you are already as good as dead Faith in the soldier at your side But even more important-and no matter how delusional it is in truth-there is the faith that you cannot be killed Those two and those two alone-they are the legs holding up every arrunted, then waved at the nearest of the trees lining Aren Way ‘Look there and tell me what you see-no, not those Hood-damned fetishes-but what’s still visible under all that mess The spike holes, the dark stains of bile and blood Ask the ghost of the soldier as on that tree-ask that soldier about faith’

‘A faith betrayed does not destroy the notion of faith itself,’ Strings retorted ‘In fact, it does the very opposite-’

‘Maybe for you, but there are sos you can’t step around ords and lofty ideals, Fid And that couard soument with that pack of hoary Wickans You’ve been lucky-you had Whiskeyjack, and Dujek Do you knoho uard? Korbolo Dom I’d swear that man had a shrine to Whiskeyjack in his tent-but not the Whiskeyjack you know Korbolo saw him differently Unfulfilled potential, that’s what he saw’

Strings glanced over at Gesler Storeants, close enough to hear, though neither had ventured a comment or opinion ‘Unfulfilled potential? What in Beru’s na about?’

‘Not h," he used to say, "he could’ve taken the damned throne Should’ve" As far as Dom is concerned, Whiskeyjack betrayed hiade Napan won’t forgive’

‘Too bad for hiood chance the Empress will send the whole Genabackan army over in time for the final battle Dom can take his complaints to Whiskeyjack hihed ‘But my point was, you’ve had commanders worthy of the faith you put in theot a different feeling about it all That’s it, that’s all I was trying to say’

The Aren Way marched past on both sides Transformed into a vast, open-air temple, each tree cluttered with fetishes, cloths braided into chains, figures painted on the rough bark to approximate the soldiers who had once writhed there on spikes driven in by Korbolo Dos walked in silence Despite the vast, empty expanse of blue sky overhead, the road was oppressive

There had been talk of cutting the trees down, but one of the Adjunct’s first cos wondered if she now regretted her decision

His gaze travelled up to one of the Fourteenth’s new standards, barely visible through clouds of roiling dust up ahead She had understood the whole thing with the finger bones well enough, understood the turning of the ori a bone aloft, the details in shades of dun colours that were barely visible on the yellow ochre field, the border a woven braid of the i before a sandstorm That the standard could as easily apply to Sha’ik’s army of the Apocalypse was a curious coincidence As if Tavore and Sha’ik-the two armies, the forces in opposition-are in some way mirrored reflections of the other