Free The Thousand Names by Django Wexler Page B

our new recruits.”
    Marcus hadn’t thought about that. All those new men, and how was he supposed to know which to trust? He felt a sudden, irrational stab of rage at Janus.
What the hell have you brought down on my regiment?
    After a moment he said, “Why tell me all this, sir?”
    “I take it you’re not accustomed to senior officers speaking plainly?” Janus chuckled. “No, don’t answer that. I’m trying to be honest with you, Captain, because I need your help. You know the country, you know the Khandarai, and most important, you know the Colonials. I’m not foolish enough to think I can do this without you and your fellow officers.”
    Marcus’ back straightened involuntarily. “I will perform my duty to the best of my ability, sir. As will the others.”
    “I need more than obedience. I need a partner, of sorts. With the Redeemers in front of us and Orlanko behind, I need someone I can trust.”
    “What makes you think you can trust me?”
    “I’ve read your file, Captain,” Janus said. “I know you better than you might think.”
    There was a long pause.
    “What is it that you intend to do?” Marcus asked eventually.
    “Whether he intended it or not, Orlanko has backed me into a corner. My orders require me to suppress the rebellion, but no one at the Ministry of War understood how badly out of hand things had gotten here. The only way out is to fight the campaign and win, while keeping one eye on Miss Alhundt and whatever friends she may have brought with her.”
    Marcus considered for a moment. “May I ask something, sir?”
    “Of course.”
    “I don’t fancy the idea of my men being used as pawns in this game between you and the Duke. I want . . .” Marcus hesitated. “I would like your word, as an officer, that you really think this can be done. I’m not interested in helping you die gloriously.”
Or doing so on your behalf.
    He’d been worried that Janus would take offense, but the colonel gave another quick smile. “Of course, Captain. You can have my word as an officer, a count, or in whatever other capacity you’d like.”
    “As an officer will be sufficient,” Marcus said, fighting a grin. “I never did place much trust in nobility.”

Chapter Three
    WINTER
     
    W inter returned from breakfast to find all of her worldly possessions smashed into the dirt.
    Someone had taken down her tent, folding it neatly around the poles in accordance with regulations. Before they could do this, they’d had to dump everything out of it, and from the look of things there had been a fair bit of stomping back and forth to make sure her belongings were ground to bits against the parched earth of the courtyard.
    Davis was nowhere in evidence, of course, but she could see Peg sitting in front of his own tent, a little way down the row, looking on with a sly smile. No doubt he was hoping to see her scrabbling in the wreckage to rescue what she could, and Winter decided abruptly that she wasn’t going to oblige him. Her worldly possessions didn’t amount to much, anyway. She’d had to leave almost everything behind in the retreat—her pillows, sheets, and other comforts, her private tent, the little hoard of Khandarai books she’d gathered while studying the language. The only things left were a few mementos and curios she’d picked up in Ashe-Katarion, and she wasn’t going to grub on her knees in front of Peg for those.
    Instead she turned on her heel without a word and went in search of her new company. This was not an easy task, as the encampment had nearly tripled in size overnight. The new soldiers were marked out by the solid blue of their still-creased tents, but since they outnumbered the old Colonials three to one, that alone wasn’t a great deal of help. Winter ended up collaring a staff lieutenant and asking directions to the First Battalion, Seventh Company, which the harassed young man provided with bad grace.
    Walking through the neat rows of tents, fresh from some