I will personally string him by the balls for dereliction of duty. Saerbian forces are in the field and they could be mustering for a counterattack. Rain and darkness are not armor. Am I understood?”
A chorus of “Aye, sirs” and averted gazes answered his words.
Enken stood with Strend and Hess inside the tent. The rain beat staccato off the canvas. Enken nodded a greeting and Strend and Hess saluted. Hess’s moustache drooped as much as the man’s shoulders. Strend, as barrel-chested as a dwarf, shifted uncomfortably on his feet.
At a glance, everything within the tent seemed in order. There was no blood, no items tossed about. It appeared as though General Forrin had simply stepped out to the privy.
“What exactly happened here?” Reht asked.
Hess and Strend hesitated, looked one to the other.
“Tell him what you told me,” Enken said to Hess. “Neither of you is at fault here.”
Hess eyed Reht and shook his head. “We heard a shout, Commander, and rushed in. We saw a man—”
“Wasn’t a man,” Strend said, shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest.
“The Hells,” Hess said. “It was a man, but not normal. He was dark, with shadows all around him. He saw us, the tent went dark, then he was gone with the general.”
“Shadovar,” Reht said. They had heard that forces out of Shade Enclave had allied with the Selgauntans and Saerbians.
Enken grunted agreement, pulled one of his many knives and ran his thumb across its edge. “My thoughts as well.”
Strend looked nervous, eyed the dark pockets in the corners of the tent. “Shadovar. … I’ve heard things.”
“Tales and naught else,” Enken said, pointing his blade at the young soldier. “Shadovar bleed as well as any and better than some.” He looked to Reht. “We could turn the clerics on to this Shadovar’s scent. Follow him. They must have wanted the general alive or they would have killed him here.”
“Agreed,” Reht said.
Hess looked like he’d eaten bad beef. “He warned us not to follow.”
Reht and Enken stared blades at the boy. “What? Who?”
“The Shadovar.”
“And?”
“And … that is all,” said Hess and looked away.
Enken grunted in disgust, took Hess by the back of his cloak, and shoved him toward the tent flap.
“You left your balls out in the rain, soldier. Get out there and find him ’ere I see you again.”
Reht, Enken, and Strend chuckled at Hess’s expense as Hess sulked his way out of the tent. The moment he stepped outside the questions from the loiterers flew as heavy as the rain.
“Lorgan has not reported back,” Enken said. “That leaves the rank to you or me.”
“Fight you for it?” Reht said.
Enken smiled, showing his chipped front teeth. He sheathed his knife. “I would, but we can’t afford to lose you.”
Reht chuckled.
Enken said, “You’re longer in the Blades, anyway, known the general and the men longer. You take it.”
Reht considered that, and nodded. While he had always been a tactician, a leader of small units, not a strategist, he could assume command until the overmistress replaced Forrin with another general.
“When Lorgan shows, he’ll rank me and can have it.”
“If Lorgan shows,” Enken said. “His silence bodes ill. Meantime, keep a light around you. Shadovar seem to have a liking for anyone leading this army.”
Reht smiled but it was forced. To Strend, he said, “Take Hess and get me Mennick and Vors, and the rest of the Talassans. Let’s find out what happened here.”
Strend saluted and started to bound from the tent.
“Wait,” Reht said, and Strend stopped.
“Sir?”
“Bring the Corrinthal boy back with you, too. If Vors has a problem, you bring him to me.”
Strend nodded and hurried out, and they heard him call for Hess.
“Vors,” Enken said, and spit as if the name itself left a foul taste.
Reht thought that said everything that needed saying. He walked the confines of Forrin’s tent, trying on his new rank, looking over Forrin’s personal effects. Forrin had traveled light, still a mercenary footman despite his rank.
“Blade and armor are gone,” Reht said to Enken.
“I noticed.”
“Could be the general put up a fight before Hess and Strend entered the tent.”
“Could be. But if so, it wasn’t much of one.”
“Bold, taking him out of his own tent,” Reht said.
Enken nodded, his expression thoughtful.
Reht didn’t have an eye for clues or a head for mysteries. He’d leave it to Mennick and the priests. He turned his thoughts back to his men, his army, things he understood.
“Extra discipline with the men for a time, to keep things in order while they