Stalking Darkness

you. The others are scouting up food and gear,” he told her.
    Thank the Flame for that at least
, Beka thought gratefully, imagining the stocky, blunt-spoken sergeant striding through the wreckage to whip things into order again.
    “That’s good. Mirn, Kallas, and Ariani will be back later. Steb and Thela are out of it for the time being—”
    “Aulos?” Rhylin asked, and Beka felt him tense again. He’d come into the regiment with the twin brothers. They were from the same town.
    “Dead,” she told him. There was no use glossing it over, shethought, feeling weary for the first time that day. Like Mercalle had warned, death was something they’d all better get used to, and quickly.
    As expected, Braknil had things well in hand. Food had been salvaged from somewhere, a few tents were up and, best of all, a dozen or more horses were hobbled nearby, a good many of them sporting Plenimaran tack.
    A cheer went up as the others caught sight of them riding up.
    “What’s the word, Lieutenant?” Braknil asked as the others gathered anxiously around. He had a bloody rag wrapped around one forearm, but it didn’t seem to be slowing him down.
    Beka counted fourteen in all, plus the sergeant.
    “The word is we got caught with our britches down,” she replied wryly. “Commander Klia isn’t too happy about that, but she thinks that First Turma can help make it right. What do you say?”
    Another cheer went up, mingled with angry shouts of “Let’s raid the bastards!”, “Blood and Steel!”, and “Lead on like you did today, Lieutenant, we’ll follow!”
    Beka eased herself down on a crate and motioned for silence. “It looks like two decuriae will have to do for now. Rhylin, I’m making you sergeant of Second Decuria. Who do you have left?”
    Rhylin looked around. “Nikides, Syra, Kursin, Tealah, Jareel, and Tare.”
    “Braknil, what about First Decuria?”
    The sergeant waved at the two exhausted young men beside him. “Just Arbelus and Gilly, so far.”
    “And us,” called Steb, who’d just arrived with Kallas, Ariani, and Mirn.
    “You’re missing an eye!” Braknil said gruffly.
    “I’ve still got one left,” Steb replied, though it was clear he was in pain. “Come on, Sergeant. There aren’t enough of us left to spare me. I can fight.”
    “All right, then,” the sergeant said with a shrug. “Corporal Kallas, you’re still sound?”
    Still deeply shaken by the death of his brother, Kallas nodded grimly.
    “So that makes seven in each decuria so far,” Beka observed, counting them up. “All of you who were with Sergeant Mercalle, step forward. Tobin, Barius, you go into Braknil’s decuria. Marten, Kaylah, and Zir, you’re with Rhylin. As soonas we’ve got horses and gear sorted out, we have orders to head up into those hills as scouts.”
    “We couldn’t make a worse job of it than Eagle troop,” Kaylah muttered. Others growled angry agreement.
    “Never mind that. The Plenimarans pulled a good trick this morning, it’s true. It’s up to us to make sure they don’t do it again. We’re going to poke our nose down every gully and snake hole until we find out where they’re hiding. They can’t conceal that many men and horses for long now that we know what they’re up to. Sergeants, see that everyone scrounges up a decent horse, patrol gear, and a week’s rations. Stow your tabards again, too. Maybe we can pull a few surprises of our own, eh? We ride out at dusk.”
    Beka sat where she was for a moment, watching the remains of her command bustle about. Most were sporting minor wounds. It was probably a mistake to take Steb, but as he’d pointed out, they couldn’t afford to spare anyone who could still ride.
    Twelve riders and two sergeants lost in a single day’s fighting
, she thought,
and half of those dead
.
    It was a lucky thing they had a mission to take up their thoughts tonight.

35
P REPARATIONS
    A white linen pavilion had been erected for the Orëska dead. As Seregil and Micum passed by it the next morning, they heard soft chants and the weeping of those preparing the bodies for pyre or grave.
    Farther on, the enemy corpses lay under the open sky. Judged by their clothing, they could have been laborers or thieves, but most of them had the build and scars of soldiers. A Scavenger cart stood ready nearby. Untended and unmourned, they would be hauled away and burnt without ceremony.
    “Valerius said that after the attack was over, any of Mardus’ men who