A Malazan Book of the Fallen Collection 2

rather plain young man wearing leathers but no weapon. 'And yours?'
    'Bottle.'
    'Who was your drill sergeant?' he demanded to the four recruits.
    Koryk leaned back as he replied, 'Braven Tooth—'
    'Braven Tooth! That bastard's still alive?'
    'It was hard to tell at times,' Smiles muttered.
    'Until his temper snapped,' Koryk added. 'Just ask Corporal Tarr there. Braven Tooth spent near two bells pounding on him with a mace. Couldn't get past the shield.'
    Strings glared at his new corporal. 'Where'd you learn that skill?'
    The man shrugged. 'Don't know. Don't like getting hit.'
    'Well, do you ever counter-attack?'
    Tarr frowned. 'Sure. When they're tired.'
    Strings was silent for a long moment. Braven Tooth – he was dumbfounded. The bastard was grizzled back when ...
when the whole naming thing began. It had been Braven who'd started it. Braven who'd named most of the Bridgeburners. Whiskeyjack. Trotts, Mallet, Hedge, Blend, Picker, Toes ... Fiddler himself had avoided a new name through his basic training; it had been Whiskeyjack who'd named him, on that first ride through Raraku. He shook his head, glanced sidelong at Tarr. 'You should be a heavy infantryman, Corporal, with a talent like that. The marines are supposed to be fast, nimble – avoiding the toe-to-toe whenever possible or, if there's no choice, making it quick.'
    'I'm good with a crossbow,' Tarr said, shrugging.
    'And a fast loader,' Koryk added. 'It was that that made Braven decide to make him a marine.'
    Smiles spoke. 'So who named Braven Tooth, Sergeant?'
    I did, after the bastard left one of his in my shoulder the night of the brawl. The brawl we all later denied happening. Gods, so many years ago, now ... 'I have no idea,' he said. He shifted his attention back to the man named Bottle. 'Where's your sword, soldier?'
    'I don't use one.'
    'Well, what do you use?'
    The man shrugged. 'This and that.'
    'Well, Bottle, someday I'd like to hear how you got through basic training without picking up a weapon – no, not now. Not tomorrow either, not even next week. For now, tell me what I should be using you for.'
    'Scouting. Quiet work.'
    'As in sneaking up behind someone. What do you do then? Tap him on the shoulder? Never mind.' This man smells like a mage to me, only he doesn't want to advertise it. Fine, be that way, we'll twist it out of you sooner or later.
    'I do the same kind of work,' Smiles said. She settled a forefinger on the pommel of one of the two thin-bladed knives at her belt. 'But I finish things with these.'
    'So there's only two soldiers in this outfit who can actually fight toe-to-toe?'
    'You said one more's coming,' Koryk pointed out.
    'We can all handle crossbows,' Smiles added. 'Except for Bottle.'
    They heard voices from outside the commandeered stables, then figures appeared in the doorway, six in all, burdened with equipment. A deep voice called, 'You put the latrine trench outside the barracks, for Hood's sake! Bastards don't teach ya anything these days?'
    'Compliments of Lieutenant Ranal,' Strings said.
    The soldier who'd spoken was in the lead as the squad approached. 'Right. Met him.'
    Aye, nothing more need be said on that. 'I'm Sergeant Strings – we're the 4th.'
    'Well hey,' a second soldier said, grinning through his bushy red beard, 'someone can count after all. These marines are full of surprises.'
    'Fifth,' the first soldier said. There was a strange, burnished cast to the man's skin, making Strings doubt his initial guess that he was Falari. Then he noted an identical sheen to the red-bearded soldier, as well as on a much younger man. 'I'm Gesler,' the first soldier added. 'Temporarily sergeant of this next-to-useless squad.'
    The red-bearded man dropped his pack to the floor. 'We was coastal guards, me and Gesler and Truth. I'm Stormy. But Coltaine made us marines—'
    'Not Coltaine,' Gesler corrected. 'Captain Lull, it was, Queen harbour his poor soul.'
    Strings simply stared at the two men.
    Stormy scowled. 'Got a problem with us?' he demanded, face darkening.
    'Adjutant Stormy,' Strings muttered. 'Captain Gesler. Hood's rattling bones—'
    'We ain't none of those things any more,' Gesler said. 'Like I said, I'm now a sergeant, and Stormy's my corporal. And the rest here ... there's Truth, Tavos Pond, Sands and Pella. Truth's been with us since Hissar, and Pella was a camp guard at the otataral mines – only a handful survived the uprising there, from what I gather.'
    'Strings, is it?' Stormy's small eyes had