Chapter 62: Adjournment

“Empires die to wars, emperors to knives.”

– Free Cities saying

General Abigail of Summerholm, I’d noticed, always entered a tent like she expected it was going to be filled with a pack of hungry wolves. Or maybe just mine, I mused. She’d never quite managed to hide that she was rather terrified of me, which made toying with her something of a guilty pleasure – kind of like ringing bell near a particularly twitchy rabbit. With the seemingly permanently sunburnt cheek and watery blue eyes, the first Callowan general since the Conquest didn’t look like much. That delicate little nose made her look almost dainty, and the messy hair was seemingly match with dark rings around her eyes that over the years I’d seen thin but never entirely go away.

She was also one of the sharper field commanders in the Army of Callow, though I doubted she’d agree if asked. I’d not bet on her against Hune, not for a few years yet, but General Bagram of the Fourth had some bad habits from his Legion days – too prone to being defensive, too fond of using his heavies as a hammer to smash everything – to match the experience those years had given him, so that fight would be a much closer one. Mind you, it had to be said that this was true in part because the Army was horribly thin on senior officers. Hells, it’d been thin on those even after it’d cannibalized two full legions in the wake of the Folly and we’d taken considerable losses since then.

If Juniper and I had been able to spare a few years between wars to build off a proper officer corps she’d merely be one of the finer youngbloods, marked for advancement but still needing seasoning. As things stood, though, the decision to appoint her as the head of the force that’d hit the Cigelin Sisters wasn’t me playing favourites with a fellow Callowan: I was genuinely putting the person in charge I believed was the finest pick. Hune herself might have been even better, but I’d need the Second with me. Though the sapper corps was now nominally separate from the rest of the Army of Callow, in practice the largest part of it had been lodged with the Second Army for years.

General Abigail saluted, biting the inside of her cheek, and approached my personal desk. At my side I felt Hakram shift in his wheelchair, trying to hide his amusement at the sight. The phalanges regularly seeded flattering rumours about Abigail to facilitate my long-term intentions for her – I’d need someone with an unimpeachable reputation and absolutely no ambition to hold the Army of Callow for Vivienne, when she became queen – and I knew for a fact that he’d indulged some of his gossipy tendencies by crafting a few himself. I was pretty sure that delightful yarn about the good general having impaled a Revenant with the standard of the Third was his work, for one.

“Your Majesty,” Abigail of Summerholm said. “I came as summoned.”

I leaned back into my seat, regarding her gravely, and drummed my fingers against the desk. The general visibly wilted.

“That is cruel,” Hakram said in Kharsum, tone appreciative.

“You’re right, Adjutant,” I somberly said, “it’s best to get this over with.”

The rabbit whimpered and I was a bad, bad woman. I wasn’t going to stop, this was much too entertaining, but dues where they were due.

“Ma’am?” Abigail squeaked out.

“You know why you’re here, general,” I severely said.

The other woman twitched, like nervousness made into a body spasm, and out the stream came.

“I’m sorry,” General Abigail stammered, “I know it’s Proceran wine, and that makes me unpatriotic, but it’s just so good-“

I sat back in my chair, smothering a grin.

“- I didn’t even know they were loaded die, I got them from this goblin sergeant in the Second and-“

Oh Crows, she was still talking.

“- I wasn’t sure if they were really flirting, I mean they’re Blood and they’re engaged-“

Had I broken one of my most valuable officers? Had I finally taken this too far?

“- in my defence Brotel is a very confusing name for a town, especially with Alamans pronunciation, and I didn’t know he was an actual lord-“

Nah, I decided. This was just my reward for suffering through the last few weeks of soul-grinding warfare. It was like having a good smoke, only better because it came at someone else’s expense. It occurred to me, after that thought, that perhaps the company I had kept over the last few years had not done wonders for my moral character. It was probably Black’s fault if you went back far enough, I reassured myself. Not at all something I’d picked up all on my own.

“- I didn’t really mean that we should eat all Proceran children, I mean how would we actually do that – okay, so maybe if we did like another sort of magistrate dedicated solely to baby-eating, but that would be really expensive and I don’t think the House of Light would-“

Hakram cleared his throat, which silenced her in a heartbeat.

“You know what must be done now, I think,” I solemnly said.

“You’ll send me back home, where I will officially be a general but in reality stripped of all authority,” General Abigail hopefully said.

“Even better,” I said. “Adjutant?”

He wheeled up to her, passing her a folded parchment which she opened warily. Her eyes widened when she caught sight of the royal seal at the bottom.

“Congratulations, Lady Abigail,” I said. “You’ll have to pick a last name, now that you’re a noble in the formal peerage of the Kingdom of Callow.”

“What,” Abigail weakly said.

“Quite right,” I agreed. “It’s not a landed title, mind you, but I’ve made my stance clear on handing those out.”

I’d largely inherited a nobility with its back broken from my father, but Gods knew I would have gotten rid of even my last few northern barons if I could. I had no issue with court titles and even knighthoods, but the notion of legitimate rulers whose only talent was having the luck of being born to the right womb still rubbed me wrong. The governorships weren’t a perfect system, but they were a damned sight better than the labyrinth of noble laws and privileges that’d preceded them.

“I don’t understand,” Abigail tried again.

“In recognition of your bold and heroic charge at the Second Battle of Lauzon’s Hollow,” Adjutant said, visibly enjoying every moment of this, “you have been made a noble of the Kingdom of Callow. The crown rewards exceptional service, General Abigail, and yours has not disappointed.”

It also cut off any avenue of retreat if she tried to retire. Being a noble war heroine would make her one of the most eligible women in Callow after the war – she’d be dragged into the kingdom’s affairs whether she wanted it or not.

“I,” General Abigail hesitantly said, “thank you?”

“It was my pleasure,” I grinned.

I meant every word, if not necessarily in the sense she might expect. It looked like she was trying to convince herself she was out of the woods, so immediately I hit her with the second announcement.

“It was also my pleasure to name you as the leading commander of the force that will continue with the assault on the Cigelin Sisters,” I casually added.

Abigail froze.

“I don’t mean to question your judgement, Your Majesty,” the general delicately said.

“I don’t think anyone’s ever told me that without adding ‘but’ afterwards,” I noted, and cocked an eyebrow.

She swallowed.

However,” General Abigail gallantly tried, “would General Hune not be a better fit for this appointment?”

“I’ve got other uses for her,” I dismissed.

“It is only natural the command should fall to you, general,” Hakram gravelled. “You are, after all, a member of the formal Callowan peerage.”

I hid a grin behind my hand, admiring the sheer bastardry involved in that sentence. He hadn’t lost his touch, evidently. General Abigail glared at the parchment that’d turned her into a noble as if the sheer depths of her hatred would be enough to set it aflame, though sadly for her Creation did not deign to indulge her.

“Surely Princess Beatrice-“

“Coming with me,” I idly said, “you’re getting the fantassins, though.”

She paused a moment, considering the odds of my agreeing to pass overall command to mercenaries before rightfully dismissing the notion.

“Grandmaster Talbot?” she attempted, with remarkable tenacity.

I looked at her steadily and she deflated. The Summerholm girl gathered her courage though, and back into the breach she went.

“Perhaps the Dominion should-” she began.

I watched the wheels turn as she weighed whether Razin or Aquiline being in charge was more or less likely to get her killed.

“- leave a few companies of scouts behind, to compensate for the departure of the goblins,” she hastily adjusted midsentence.

“Poor lordlings,” Hakram amusedly said in Kharsum. “That’d sting, if they ever got wind of it.”

“Quite right, Adjutant,” I happily said. “She should get Firstborn instead. Ten thousand under Mighty Sudone and Lord Soln will do the trick, I would think.”

She stared at me woefully.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” General Abigail said, in the tone of someone who’d just been asked to kiss the axe about to take their neck on the chopping block.

“I understand I’ll be putting something a burden on you, as you’ll still be commanding the Third while leading this part of the campaign,” I said. “For that reason, I’ve assigned you an assistant you should find helpful in many regards.”

With impeccable timing the guard outside my tent parted the flap to introduce the newest arrival, the young orc announcing the entrance of ‘Secretary Elene’. Scribe had objected to our using her true name, if ‘Eudokia’ truly was that. It’d been the name she used as a Calamity, at least, which counted for something. I found it fascinating that though Scribe’s aspect – Fade, she’d eventually told me, though it could be a lie – was pulsing as it always did and Abigail was in no way proof for it, the general’s perpetual wariness meant she kept noticing that she wasn’t noticing much about Scribe every few heartbeats.

A fascinating demonstration of the virtues of paranoia when you… oh Gods I was starting to sound like my father wasn’t I? I cleared my throat, addressing both women.

“General Abigail, allow me to introduce you to Secretary Elene,” I said. “She is a member of the adjunct secretariat.”

Which was true, she even had a salary. I’d already ordered her pay docked twice for ‘indecorous skulking’, which was an official breach of regulations in the Legions of Terror because it was an institution that’d had goblins in its ranks for over two decades.

“I mean no offence, Your Majesty,” General Abigail said, “but is she perhaps a magical assassin meant to kill me if I displease you?”

I choked on a startled burst of laughter. My lack of immediate denial had those sunburnt cheeks turning pale.

“For shame, general,” Adjutant chided. “We don’t enroll our magical assassins in the phalanges, it’s the first place people would look. We’re not amateurs.”

“That makes sense,” the dark-haired woman muttered, actually brightening some. “So this whole magical whammy I’m feeling is, uh, accidental?”

“Secretary Elene is Named,” I said. “But I’m speaking for her too much already. Why don’t you introduce yourself, secretary?”

“I am Secretary Elene of the adjunct secretariat,” Scribe told Abigail in a tone so dry it rivalled the Hungering Sands. “Pleased to meet you.”

“And you,” the general replied, seemingly by reflex.

There was a pregnant pause.

“She’s shy,” I confided. “You might know her better as the Scribe.”

General Abigail blinked in surprise.

“The old one’s finally dead?” she asked.

“There’s no need to be insulting,” Scribe mildly said, “I assure you I am still quite spry.”

“You’re a Calamity?” Abigail wailed.

“Retired,” Scribe noted. “I am now gainfully employed by the Kingdom of Callow. Which has my adequately remunerated loyalty.”

“You conquered the Kingdom of Callow,” the general said, voice gone shrill with dismay.

“It’s a fair point,” I admitted.

“She has you there,” Adjutant agreed.

Scribe shot us a look that was deeply put-upon, though I’d met the godsdamned Calamities so if she was going to try to sell me she was used to less fucking around she was going to have to do better than that.

“I promise not to do it again,” Scribe tried.

“See,” I beamed, “already we’re all getting along. I’m sure the two of you will both bloom from the cooperation.”

Abigail twitched.

“Of course,” she said. “I’m sure you’re right, Your Majesty.”

“I’m glad of your support for the notion,” I said, “I wouldn’t have forced it on you otherwise.”

I’d never seen someone die a little inside before, it was quite riveting. I dismissed them both afterwards, and by the time they were walking out already Scribe was asking questions about the supply situation that the general was clearly lying her way through answering. A promising pair, I decided. Abigail of Summerholm was too used to scraping by when the danger wasn’t immediate, which having Scribe keeping her on track should fix, while Scribe was too used to being the enabler of someone’s grand design: it would be a genuine challenge for her to assist someone as inclined to improvisation as General Abigail.

Named liked a challenge, deep down, and I suspected that having one would do more to keep Scribe bound to us than  everything else I’d done so far.

With them leaving Hakram and I were left alone, though only momentarily – within moments one of his helping hands drifted in, bringing a report. He looked through it and dismissed the man, wheeling up to the desk where I was pouring myself a finger of brandy. I raised an eyebrow questioningly and he nodded, so I rustled up a cup to pour another.

“Roland’s band has killed the last creatures previously bound to Beastmaster,” he said. “Casualties among the companies that accompanied them were light, mostly caused when the manticore went berserk.”

The least dangerous of the creatures the man had mastered had either fled or grieved, but those who preyed on humans had instead gone violently rabid. Fortunately standing orders had been for Beastmaster to keep his menagerie far from where the Dead King could weaponize it, so it’d not turned into a costly rampage. Not that the hunts had been bloodless, for all that the Vagrant Spear had been wildly enthusiastic and the Blood had treated it like the social event of the decade.

“Burn the corpses and go through the standard measures to ensure none of it ends up in the Dead King’s ranks,” I said. “Anything else?”

“Archer’s drinking,” Hakram said. “Heavily. The Concocter joined her not long ago.”

I grimaced, considering what heavily would mean when it was Indrani doing the drinking. I’d have to dip a toe there later and see if my presence was welcome. I’d not been light-handed while handing down discipline, so it might be that even though grieving she genuinely would not want to see me. Still, that she’d broken out the strong stuff before night even fell was not a good sign.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said. “But it seems delicate situation to step into.”

He hummed in agreement, offering up his cup. We knocked them and drank, the gesture smooth and practiced from years of repetition.

“She rarely talks about Refuge,” Hakram said afterwards, “it’s not shame, I think, but perhaps the absence of pride.”

“She talks about Ranger all the time,” I grunted.

“She mentions the Lady of the Lake,” Adjutant corrected. “When does she ever speak of the woman beyond a few words? Even Vivienne shares more easily.”

It had admittedly occurred to me in the past that Vivienne had been the Thief – a sneak and keep of secrets – and my enemy for years, and yet I’d still known her name before Indrani’s. For someone so outwardly rambunctious Archer actually kept her card pretty close to the chest.

“It’s how she is,” I eventually said. “We’re not all built for deep talks and scrutiny, Hakram. Some people prefer their dark corners without lights shined on them.”

“I’m not sure that is truly the case,” he gravelled. “Maybe a few years back, but now?”

He hesitated.

“Since the Everdark,” Hakram specified. “And I don’t mean because you two started sharing a bed down there.”

“Great Strycht,” I murmured.

Where I had died and risen again, First Under the Night. Where Archer had fought in my name against Mighty by the battalion, only to end up drowned in ice when my arrogance saw me eviscerated by the Sisters and Winter’s power spill out like a sea. That near-death, one that she’d admitted she would not have been able to avoid even if she’d known it was coming, had shaken her greatly. She’d grown past it, past the fear, but it had changed her nonetheless. Sometimes just seeing what lay past the door was enough, even if you managed to close it after.

“She’d never have admitted a thing to Masego, before that,” Hakram said. “She would have figured there was time enough later, and eventually that it was too late. No more, though. And I think it will be the same with Refuge, if the right person asks.”

“That might not be me,” I bluntly said.

The orc shook his head.

“It’s different, what she has with Masego,” Adjutant said. “He wouldn’t judge, it’s why she wouldn’t mind speaking. But you’re the one she confesses to, Catherine. Not me, not Vivienne, not the ties she’s made since she became a captain of Named.”

I leaned back, passing a hand through my hair.

“We’ll see,” I finally said. “I had to bring down the hammer on her yesterday, Hakram. It won’t have gone over well.”

The trouble was that, the way I figured, Indrani had joined the Truce and Terms largely because she was already part of the Woe and it was what we were doing. But the way I’d run the Woe wasn’t the way I had to behave as an officer of the Grand Alliance, and even if it was tempting I couldn’t just mark ‘the Woe’ as a different category within the Named I had authority over. It would undermine all I was trying to do if I treated them differently when it came to my duties. I wasn’t sure, though, how much Indran actually cared about the Terms – or even the Accords, in the long view. She’d not take the lash for a cause she was indifferent to, that much I knew.

It just wasn’t in her nature.

“You do her disservice, I think,” Hakram thoughtfully said, “but I understand why you would. Sometimes it’s more comforting to pick at a wound than have it healed.”

My lips thinned in irritation. It was not a charitable interpretation of this, and it would have earned more than a scowl for anyone else.

“I’m not sure what wound you’re supposed to be talking about,” I said.

“That she’s going to leave, eventually,” Adjutant calmly said. “That she made that choice long before she made the one to love you.”

I almost cursed – and not amusedly, not in poor humour. I almost cursed because that was the reflex, when something suddenly pricked you. I’d forgotten how sharp Hakram’s truths had a way of being.

“Figured it all out, did you?” I said, tone a tad bitter.

It was not a pleasant part of me he’d dragged up to the light of day. There’d been a reason I’d pushed it in a corner where the day didn’t reach.

“It was not insight, Catherine, but recognition,” he said.

His licked his chops then stayed silent for a moment.

“I have done the same,” Adjutant abruptly said. “With… this.”

He gestured all around us, encompassing everything as I went still. We’d not even come to close to addressing the subject since I’d refused the proposal to support the Clans in rebellion against the Tower as it currently said.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” I carefully said.

“I needed to know,” Hakram quietly said, “if it was trust in principle or in truth. If you’d make a mistake simply because I asked you to, out of pity. More than anything else, that would have been intolerable.”

My eyes narrowed.

“Your proposal,” I said, “you botched it on purpose. It was never meant to be accepted.”

“I hacked away what might make it feasible,” he admitted. “And had them present you with what was left.”

My fingers clenched, but I forced myself to breathe out.

“I don’t think you understand how difficult the position you put me in was,” I said, tone forcefully calm.

“I do,” Hakram replied. “But I will not apologize for it, no more than you will apologize for barring from the battlefield and saddling me with a Named bodyguard.”

“That’s different,” I hissed.

He bared his fangs the slightest bit, but his neck remained straight – not bent to the side, which would imply apology or submission. He was unmoved.

“You did it so you’d sleep soundly at night,” Adjutant said. “So did I. And I will forgive you your shade of selfishness, if you forgive me mine.”

It wasn’t the same. I knew it stung, that I was keeping him away from the blades and saddling with what someone might consider a minder, but I was doing it so he wouldn’t get killed. What he’d done… But he doesn’t want to stay in the chair, Catherine, I reminded myself. He wants to risk the steel. And it was a decision I considered stupid and unreasonable, more a spasm of empty pride than anything with sense to it, but it wasn’t mine to make. Not really. He’d bent his neck because it would help me sleep at night, and now he was asking me to do the same. It tasted like ash, but I would not deny he was not asking more of me than I had asked of him.

Perhaps less, even. That tended to be the way with us.

“It stings,” I finally said. “That you didn’t trust me.”

He slowly nodded. I sighed and looked way.

“But maybe you’re not wrong, about picking at wounds,” I admitted. “Half the anger is fear that I could have failed the test.”

“You didn’t.”

It was simply said, without frills or false promises. It did not reassure me as much as I would have thought it would, for all that.

“It’s not going to be the same, is it?” I quietly asked. “Even when time passes. When it’s not so fresh.”

“Things change, Catherine,” the orc replied. “We are not the same people we were when this all began.”

Grief seized me by throat, as much for what had been done as who we’d once been. It had my eyes burning, for the first time in years.

“It’s not a failure, Cat,” Hakram gently said, taking my hand. “It’s what we were after from the start. We can’t change the world without changing with it.”

“Yet it feels like a failure,” I murmured, “doesn’t it?”

Like I’d broken something. Those days in the Arsenal had cost us all more than I’d first understood. As all things touched by the Intercessor, they were poison in every way.

“We pay our prices,” Adjutant simply said. “That’s what victory is, even at its finest.”

I blinked and rubbed at my eyes, parting my hand from his. My throat felt raw, like I’d swallowed glass and some had stayed lodged.

“So it is,” I breathed out.

He patted my leg, then took his wheels in hand and began to make his way out of the tent. He paused, though, after a few armfuls.

“One last thing,” Adjutant said, turning just enough to meet my eyes.

I waited in silence.

“If you ever speak to me of debt, Catherine,” Hakram of the Howling Wolves evenly said, “I will leave and never come back.”

It felt like a gut punch and I took it about as well, fingers clenching as he wheeled himself out of the tent without turning back. Gods. He’d said that and meant every word, hadn’t he? The fear that flowed through my veins at that realization was almost paralyzing, and it was with trembling hands I reached for my pipe and lit up a packet of wakeleaf. Fuck. I’d known that nothing was absolute, that everything had a breaking point, but for him to just say it outright… I stayed alone on my tent, eyes closed and seeking calm that would not come.

After most of an hour passed I gave it up for the lost cause it was, and forced myself to seek out Indrani. Just because I felt like someone had yanked out the ground from under me didn’t mean I could afford to stop moving.

I’d not been sure what to expect, exactly, when I entering the tent where I’d been told Indrani and the Concocter were drinking together. The two empty bottles of Creusens red abandoned on the ground were hardly a surprise, but I’d figured they would at least be seated. Instead the two women were leaning back against a flipped table, toppled chairs around them, and between the two of them a large glass bottle containing what looked like boiling water – though inexplicably the inside of the tent reeked of cherries – and half a dozen shoddily-made clay cups that were chipped from use.

Indrani, out of her armour and in a rough linen tunic with little usual scarf hanging loose around her neck, was very sloppily pouring herself some of the transparent boiling liquor and spilling more than she realized. The Concocter, on the other side of the flipped table, took a moment for me to recognize: every hair on her body was now coal black, and her eyes the darkest I had ever seen. She was seemingly a lot more invested in mocking Archer’s pouring skills than noticing there was a third person in the tent, so it was Indrani who noticed me.

“Cat,” she breathed out. “You’re here.”

She started, then scowled.

“Cocky’s a villain,” Indrani said. “I didn’t break your rule.”

“I’m not here for that,” I assured her, then glanced at the other woman. “Concocter, always a pleasure.”

“The very same,” she replied, in the slow and careful tone of someone trying to seem less drunk than they actually were. “Would you like to sit, Your Majesty?”

“She hates nobles,” Indrani confessed to her. “It’s hilarious, she can never resist stepping on them even if she’s the big noble now.”

“Nobles are always big,” Concocter solemnly replied. “Fat. Fucking Consortium pricks, they always gouge me on prices. S’why I sell them mostly poisons.”

“We’ve been drinking, I see,” I said, reluctantly amused. “Thank you, Concocter, I will.”

I grabbed a chair, though instead of setting it aright I kept it on the side and pulled back my cloak as I sat down on the ground and leaned back against the legs. My leg twinged with pain, but it passed.

“See,” Indrani slurred. “I told you she’s not prissy.”

“I never said she was,” Concocter said, sounding irritated. “You always put words in my mouth.”

I felt a pang of envy. Much as they seemed to genuinely rub each other wrong, there was an underlying closeness that I’d never really had the likes of. I’d made my own family, when I got older, but those two looked nothing all and yet in that moment of familiar irritation they’d seemed like sisters.

“So what are we drinking?” I asked. “Smells strong.”

“Orchard Elixir,” Concocter proudly said. “My own creation.”

“Kickin’ Cherries,” Archer snickered. “You gotta call it that, I keep telling you.”

“I would rather kiss John,” Concocter replied.

A heartbeat passed, and then laughing drunkenly they loudly shouted ‘and he’s dead’ together.

“Gods rest his soul,” Concocter added. “So pretty. So dumb.”

“Ah, Tinkles,” Indrani breathed out, still laughing a bit. “At least he went out like a champion. It was a good scrap, Marchford.”

“If you’re going to keep laughing that loud, I’ll require a glass of that elixir,” I said.

I ignored Indrani’s accusations of treachery and leaned forward after Concocter poured me a glass more deftly than I would have expected. When she took the clay cup in hand and began to pass it to me, though, she froze. So did Archer. They were both looking at the cup, the laughter gone.

“Fuck,” Archer sighed.

“I’m missing something,” I noted.

“Lysander made those,” Concocter said. “We must have been what, twelve?”

“He was a little older, but yeah,” Indrani sighed. “He needed help for his first shot at a pack of stryxes, so he made these little gifts for everyone.”

“It’s tradition when you’re asking a favour, in some parts of the Free Cities,” Concocter told me. “Shows goodwill. He was from there – outskirts of Atalante, he figured, but he was never sure. His family were hunters, moved around a lot.”

“I got a leather bracelet with stones sowed on,” Indrani said, half-smiling. “It was shittily made, like the cups, but…”

“He’d put in effort,” Concocter echoed. “It was hard to say no after that. We weren’t as hard with each other, back then.”

“I don’t have to drink from it if you don’t want me to,” I gently said.

“No,” Concocter softly said after a moment, pressing it into my hand. “It should be used. It’s what it’s for.”

I took it up and nodded thanks, taking an experimental sip from the transparent liquor – which was, even now, popping small bubbles like faintly boiling water – and immediately choked. The taste, Gods, the taste. It was exactly as strong as it smelled, and kicked just as strongly as aragh.

“Sisters,” I cursed. “That is abominable.”

They both cackled with laughter.

“I usually cut it with fruit juice,” Concocter smirked. “I could always fetch something lighter if you’d prefer, Your Majesty.”

“Call me Catherine,” I snorted, waving dismissively. “And I’ve drunk worse for worse reasons, Concocter. I pretty much switched exclusively to aragh after I ate Winter, and I think it might burn even worse.”

“She pretends she’s all tough, but you should see her guzzle that Vale summer wine,” Indrani said.

The traitorous wench. I drank from the cup again, and it wasn’t as bad. Presumably the first sip had killed everything inside my mouth capable of feeling taste, so this was just flogging a dead horse.

“I should have let the Prince of Nightfall have you when we first got to Skade,” I said. “It would have saved me heaps of trouble.”

“I’ll toast to that,” Concocter drily said, raising her cup.

Even Indrani drink, because evidently it was that kind of a night. Well, afternoon anyway.

“This is our wake for Lysander,” Indrani told me afterwards. “Such as it is.”

“Never drank much, Beastmaster,” Concocter said. “Didn’t like the loss of control. He was that kind of a prick.”

“I’ll toast to that,” Archer said, and again we drank.

I didn’t actually talk that much over the following hours. I didn’t need to: they were, I grasped almost eager to tell their stories to someone who’d not heard them before. I suspected that the Concocter was a lot lonelier than she seemed, for all that she proud as a cat. On occasion I used the power of being less drunk than the others to steer away from squabbles, but the two of them proved surprisingly amiable with each other. Eventually the Concocter fell into a drowse, slumping against the table, and Indrani rested her head against it as well. She closed her eyes, and I almost figured she’d fallen asleep as well until she spoke.

“I’m glad you came,” Indrani quietly said.

“So am I,” I replied, just as quietly. “Almost didn’t.”


“Figured you might not want me there, after yesterday,” I admitted.

She snorted.

“Silly,” Archer said. “Not angry about that. You were fighting for your way.”

“Not yours,” I said. “And I had to rap your knuckles.”

“It’s just what happens, in those situations,” Indrani said.

The well of gratefulness I felt at her words did not quite silence the curiosity.

“Thought you’d be angry,” I said. “You don’t really care for the Truce and Terms.”

“I don’t,” Archer easily said. “Don’t mind them either, they’re not likely to get in my way. But they’re your way, Cat. Your mark, what you want to get done. I stepped on that, even if I didn’t mean to. I’d do the same if it was the other way around, if clapped chains around my feet.”

I slowly nodded. Hakram did have, I thought, that nasty habit of being right.

“You going to be all right?” I softly asked.

Silence followed for a long moment.

“Yeah,” Archer finally said. “I just… I thought there was still time, Cat. To make something new.”

She smiled bitterly.

“Stupid,” Indrani said. “Should have learned better, after Great Strycht.”

“I get it,” I said. “Nauk wasn’t what he used to be to me, not at the end, but when I heard he’d died at Sarcella…”

We shared a comfortable silence after that.

“He wouldn’t have been as easy to live with as the image in my head,” Indrani smiled. “I know that. Probably wouldn’t even have worked. So I guess it’s just having the possibility that I’m really grieving.”

“It’s still something, ‘Drani,” I replied.

“I guess it is,” she murmured. “I guess it is.”

After a moment her breath evened out, and I realized she’d fallen asleep. Reluctant to wake her so soon, I stayed seated even if my leg was beginning to ache and polished off the last of that atrocious Orchard Elixir. I was keeping an ear out for breathing, which was how I realized that the Concocter was no longer asleep almost immediately.

“It’s a nice thing you did,” Concocter whispered. “Coming here. Taking here of her.”

“She’s one of mine,” I simply said.

“She used to be one of ours,” the dark-haired villainess said, “but nice was never our game of choice. It’s done well by her.”

She sighed.

You’ve done well by her,” Concocter said. “The Woe.”

“She’s done well by us,” I said. “Miss her?”

The other woman snorted.

“No,” Concocter said. “She was fucking horrible, you know? To all of us. And we were horrible right back, but she had this need to win and…”

She shook her head.

“But it was us, at the start,” she murmured. “The five of us. Other students came and went, but it was us and the Lady. It counts for something, even if we don’t want it to. Lysander was a vicious shit of a man, Catherine. Selfish and brutal. But I miss it too, just like her. The… possibility.”

“You weren’t asleep,” I said.

“Only half,” she shrugged. “Drifted in and out. But I don’t miss her, no. Maybe I’ll see her again in the years to come, and maybe I won’t. I’m not sure if I forgive her, or if there’s anything to forgive. But I like…”

She softly laughed.

“I like that I have the possibility, now,” Concocter said. “So thank you for that, Catherine Foundling. Because she wouldn’t have gotten there alone.”

“She would have,” I replied, meaning every word.

“And believe that, I figure, is what made her want it in the first place,” Concocter murmured.

I wasn’t going to argue the point, not with a grieving woman whose history with Archer was even more complicated than my own, so I stayed silent.

“The Huntress,” I said, “will she be all right?”

“Alexis never learned to cope with anything but her fists,” Concocter said. “It does her no favours, when tragedy strikes. But she’ll get better, if you keep them separate. They’ve always brought out the worst in each other.”

“Thought you might go see her instead if Indrani, at first,” I said.

 “She’s with her friends right now,” the dark-haired Named shrugged, “people she actually likes. I’ll look in on her tomorrow. I don’t expect much to come out of it.”

“I thought you two were closer,” I frowned.

“You measure us all by your band,” Concocter murmured. “You shouldn’t. It’s rare, what you have. I’ve seen the other side lives, Catherine, and they don’t get it handed to them either. It’s rare, and it’s precious. Don’t let it go easy.”

“I won’t,” I quietly said.

She nodded, and made herself comfortable against the table. I waited until her breath was even again, then slowly pushed myself up to my feet. Night had fallen, and with it the time I could spend here. I would soon be needed. Still a little drunk, I limped out into the dark. The time agreed upon was soon, very soon. I wasn’t surprised when a grey-clad wanderer crept out of the shade, falling in at my side as I headed to the edge of the camp.

“Do you even know why you’re here?” I curiously asked.

“Not yet,” the Grey Pilgrim said.

I snorted. Fucking heroes.

“You asked me what my contingencies were, once,” I said. “You’re about to see one.”

And at the edge of the wards, the two of us stood in the dark until Creation was opened with a slice and a dark-clad man strode through the opening. He smiled at seeing me. I smiled back.

“Welcome back, Hierophant,” I said.

91 thoughts on “Chapter 62: Adjournment

    1. Ooh, Masego’s back in play. Excellent.
      Reconciliation between Cat and Archer and Cat and Hakram (kind of). Even better.

      Heh. Abigail thinks she’s in trouble for something and then tries to talk her way into getting fired or demoted over it and instead gets a title of nobility out of it. She’s stuck – no way to get out of responsibilities now.
      She’s gotta be wondering what, if anything, could have gotten her into enough trouble to be removed from her position without crossing the line into treason or some other execution-warranting offence.

      And we’re going to see an Abigail and Scribe team up. That’s going to be hilarious.

      Liked by 12 people

    2. caoimhinh

      A bit of a continuity error: twice in this chapter Catherine mentions that her disciplining of Archer was “today”.

      It wasn’t, that happened yesterday in the afternoon. And then in the night, they went raiding with the Drow until close to 4 a.m.
      We were then told that by midday the Gigantes arrived, and then Tariq arrived, so this is the night of the day of Tariq’s arrival, which makes it well over 24 hours after Indrani’s brawl with Silver Huntress.

      Liked by 6 people

  1. Ooh, Masego’s back in play. Excellent.
    Reconciliation between Cat and Archer and Cat and Hakram (kind of). Even better.

    Heh. Abigail thinks she’s in trouble for something and then tries to talk her way into getting fired or demoted over it and instead gets a title of nobility out of it. She’s stuck – no way to get out of responsibilities now.
    She’s gotta be wondering what, if anything, could have gotten her into enough trouble to be removed from her position without crossing the line into treason or some other execution-warranting offence.

    And we’re going to see an Abigail and Scribe team up. That’s going to be hilarious.

    Liked by 5 people

    1. TeK

      She will probably try picking a name that has a chance of stripping her of title. Abigail Childeater, Abigail Drunk, Abigail Wifebeater, Abigail Realqueen (although that one might get her hanging, so it’s out).

      I am personally more interested in what motto she’ll choose. I am partial too “Not The Freckles”.

      Liked by 10 people

      1. Salt

        She’ll pick something controversial to lower her standing and responsibilities, have schemers interpret it as a sign of her great political ambition and try to bring her into the fold, at which point she immediately reports them to Vivienne out of a complete lack of desire to fight another war at all, let alone a civil war.

        Cue this being interpreted as a selflessly loyal and extremely shrewd subject, who’s willing to taint her own reputation to root out the disloyal and traitorous.

        Liked by 9 people

  2. dadycoool

    First third, my stomach hurts from laughing so hard. Abigail is a blessing upon Creation.
    Second third, gut punch after gut punch. The Adjutant swore to his Warlord, but even he has limits. The thought of the Woe shattering is terrifying, even if we know intellectually that it will end eventually.
    Last third, catharsis and some feel-good juice. It’s REALLY good that Indrani has legit siblings, with Ranger as the mother. It grounds her in a way that Cat completely misses out on.
    Yay! Masego’s back!

    Liked by 10 people

    1. Cicero

      Strange that Ranger and Black are two Calamities that ended up “accidentally” having children.

      In a very odd way that makes Archer and Cat sisters too.

      If Ranger is the abusive mother, that makes Black the emotionally distant father.

      Liked by 12 people

    2. KingJulius

      If Adjutant left for any reason Catherine would simply break. She would either become a shell of a person and retreat into a corner or she would become a monster that makes even Black warn her of going too far.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. I don’t think he’s going to leave any more than Cat was really going to walk away from the Grand Alliance if Bard acted against her when she told Tariq she would, back in book 5.

        It’s just… a setting of boundaries. Long in the coming.


  3. Hmm… I wonder if Scribe might just be the catalyst to get Abigail into Name territory, or if it’s just going to be an odd couple comedy pairing? Second one seems more likely, but I’m amused at the thought of how either could go.

    And at least everybody’s starting to be honest and open with one another, now. Things are both more and less stable as a result.

    Liked by 7 people

      1. mamm0nn

        She didn’t shrug it off, she’s just paranoid enough to notice it/ /paranoid enough to notice it/ /paranoid enough to notice it/ /paranoid enough to notice it, infinite loop.

        Liked by 19 people

      2. Sir Nil

        She knows she’s so paranoid that even if she forgets about Scribe, she’ll quickly realise that “Oh shit I haven’t noticed anything about her!”

        Also, I recall there was a Procerean spymaster who was able to do a similar thing, but he only realised he didn’t catch anything when he was trying to think how to get info on her appearance back.

        Liked by 5 people

      3. It’s not so much that she shrugged it off. It was working, but Abigail is just that twitchy and paranoid, plus she went extra paranoid because it was Cat’s tent and Cat and Hakram were both right there.

        It’s not paranoia if they’re really out to get you. And Abigail knows the universe is out to get her.
        Which means that the blank spot of nothingness that Scribe was standing in was enough to trip Abigail’s finely honed survival sense into noticing “hey something’s not right here”.

        Liked by 8 people

      1. Masego’s the fucking Heirophant.
        He doesn’t need the Gift/mortal magic that you normally get born with anymore.

        He can craft miracles, utilize Fae arts, all by force of will and the right knowledge. He can probably emulate Night abilities as well, or will be able to with sufficient time and examination of them.

        So … while he might not officially have the Gift anymore, I fully expect that he can emulate it.

        Though, we haven’t actually really seen him in action since the founding of Twilight. Just when Blessed Artificer used a Light-based artifact on him and he broke the shit out of it.

        Liked by 1 person

  4. TeK

    Ok, I thought I don’t get strategy stuff, but this is even worse. Can somebody give me a play by play play of what happened here between Hakram and Cat for a person less in touch with his emotions than Aqua Sahelian?


    1. Itarion

      A while back, Hakram gave Cat a test. A proposal for aiding/arming the orc tribes that was utterly imbalanced and thoroughly flawed. Cat’s refusal showed that she would not grant him things from pity, or rather that she did not pity him.

      Hakram’s injuries are crippling. He’s missing much of his lower body, and in a way that cannot be repaired. This nearly broke him, and for a while his Name was slipping because Cat’s handling of him – to keep him alive – made him lose trust in his abilities. The proposal response was an indication that she did not pity him for his weakness, and thus that her actions were to protect him because she still needs him.

      In the now, the implications of that are discussed. Hakram has made it clear that he will not be coddled, and that what he and Cat do for each other is not because it is owed, as a debt. Both have asked and recieved great and terrible prices from each other, and trying to measure that will ruin it.

      Liked by 17 people

    2. caoimhinh

      I guess you mean from the “I sent you that proposal as a test” part?

      It’s a bit hard to explain, and this kind of stuff can have multiple interpretations depending on who sees them, some will justify these actions while others will condemn them.
      If you think some of Hakram’s actions made no sense, don’t worry, it’s because they were illogical. Emotion is what moved him rather than his usual rationality, and being crippled leaves a huge emotional wreck on any person.

      Now, I am not a psychologist, but here’s my take on it:

      Hakram needed reassurance that Cat trusted him without being blind; and that she was keeping him with her out of more than pity and friendship. His wounded ego and stressed mind needed “another proof” that Catherine still saw him as a valuable asset. Have you heard those stories about how a girlfriend sees her friend to seduce her boyfriend because she wants to see if he would cheat? Kinda like that.

      Hakram’s test to Cat consisted of an unfeasible proposal that Catherine could not reasonably accept. If she had agreed to it, it would mean that she was doing it for him rather than for the actual content of the proposal, and Hakram would take that as an insult, he would take it as her feeling pity of him due to his crippled state and how her

      Sounds toxic? It is. However illogical it may seem, this makes sense in context, because of the state in which Hakram is (plus his cultural background as an Orc). People who are in emotional distress tend to take wrong decisions, often do self-destructive things that they wouldn’t do if they were their normal selves. Also, since Hakram was a nihilist without a motivation to move in life until he met Catherine, the notion that she might not find him useful must be terrifying to him.

      Despite how calm Hakram seems to be, he is actually suffering, and he is lashing out due to his emotional state, and he needs to talk about it openly before he keeps deteriorating his friendship with the person who is the most precious to him.
      People tend to do such when they are in situations of extreme emotional distress, like experiencing withdrawal symptoms, grieving, or coping with trauma.

      Notice how in Hakram’s mind putting him away from the battlefield because he is missing an arm and a leg is an equal insult to the emotional crossroads that he made Catherine face with his little test. And he says he won’t apologize for doing it because Cat won’t apologize for not letting him go fight.

      It’s not even a matter of making mental gymnastics, it’s an instinctual response of hurting others because you are feeling hurt, and giving offense because you perceive that you have been slighted.
      It’s something that’s even seen in a conversation, when one person says something hurtful, you say something hurtful back.

      Liked by 11 people

    3. Matthew Wells

      Hakram thought Cat might be compromised by her grief at him being crippled. So he gave her an intentionally bad plan that she could approve as a favor to him. Since she didn’t, she’s still trustworthy.

      Also, if she had done it out of a sense of debt, she would have impugned his honor- he took his wounds in combat, fighting for what he believed in. That’s why he threatened to leave.

      Liked by 1 person

    4. tl;dr Hakram didn’t REALLY give Cat a horrible awful no good proposal to support orcs because he wanted it. He just FAKED giving it to her because he wanted to make sure she wasn’t doing things out of pity. I don’t think he noticed how much he would have terrified her – how much he DID terrify ME over here – with the idea that he was making shitty stuff now, but I guess even if he did he wouldn’t care, because of how bad it was to be him at that moment.

      She had committed the grave offense of trying to keep him safe, you see. It’s, like, grounds for a duel to the death among orcs, or something.

      I’m just really fucking happy these idiots are chugging along.

      Liked by 5 people

      1. On second thought, uh, I think I was wrong with the “didn’t realize how much he terrified her” thing.

        I think that was his terror first actually.

        I think he was afraid that Catherine was compromised, that her affection for him was a burden and that he might have been dragging her down for some time already without either of them noticing.


    5. All Dogs are QUEENS

      Basically, he felt he needed to know if Cat was just keeping him around because she felt she owed him/out of pity, or if she was keeping him around because she still needed him. To him the first one would be unacceptable and could have lead to him leaving on his own, he’d rather be nothing than be a burden, while the second one would mean that Cat still trusted him and had meant what she said when she told him that she still had things she needed him for even though he couldn’t fight anymore.
      From our perspective that’s obvious, we’ve seen the inside of Cat’s head and we know that she would both emotionally break without Hakram as a rock and that she wouldn’t be able to manage a fair bit of what she’s built without him; Hakram is going through a lot right now though, it makes sense that with Cat being Queen of Callow, First Under Night, and Queen of Villains he’s start to wonder if after getting crippled he really had a place in her machinations. She proved that she still trusted him and that to her he still did

      Liked by 1 person

  5. Frivolous

    Speak to me of debt – Debt owed by Cat to Hakram? Debt owed by Hakram to Cat? I’m not certain, but I guess Hakram means it both ways, that if Cat ever tries to use debt as a reason why she does anything for or to Hakram, Hakram will leave. Because love shouldn’t be about owing.

    I’m not even sure if Hakram made the threat out of pride or simply because he loves Cat and won’t allow her to weaken herself. The threat could have been solely prophylactic in intention, to keep Cat from thinking that way about Hakram.

    I continue to hold hope for Hakram to eventually be healed or to find his own way past or through his mutilation. Though even that may not bring the old relationship with Cat back.

    I do know that Hakram would rather die or lose his Name than be a figure of pity to Cat.

    I quite like that Hakram tested Cat by passing her that botched proposal. And that Cat passed the test.

    I love love love the part about Abigail. The babble about everything she feels Cat might execute her for was very funny, particularly the phrase “magistrate dedicated solely to baby-eating, but that would be really expensive”.

    I wonder what last name she’ll choose. Something ordinary like Brewer, after her mother’s previous occupation? Abi will try to blend in, I think.

    When she gibbered about them flirting, does that not mean that a couple of Levantine nobles, engaged even, tried to get her into a threesome? How risque if so.

    I wonder exactly what indecorous skulking means, and also how goblins do it.

    I’m rolling my eyes yet again over Dominion craziness that they think an eruption of monsters is wonderful. Dominion women must have lots of kids to make up for their horrible attitude towards self-preservation. Otherwise they would have died out long ago.

    I like how Concocter’s opinion of Cat matches Wekesa’s opinion of Cat and the Woe when it comes to Indrani and Masego, respectively. Cat and the Woe have been good for them emotionally.

    Liked by 7 people

      1. Frivolous

        Probably is Razin and Aquiline, yes. There can’t be that many engaged couples in the army.

        On the other hand, maybe Abigail got her wish and became pregnant, which could make her ineligible for continued military service. Wouldn’t that be a plot twist, to become pregnant by Razin Tanja?

        Liked by 4 people

        1. Raved Thrad

          That would result in a scene with Aquiline, though, wouldn’t it?

          “General Abigail, I must regretfully invite you to an appointment, with knives, tomorrow at dawn. Unless you agree to permanently join the House of Tanja, then I must kill you for my honor and the honor of the Blood. *I* will bear Razin’s heir, and no other!”

          Liked by 2 people

          1. Frivolous

            Definitely a possible consequence.

            On the other hand, are the Blood of the Binder and the Slayer even allowed to mix together? Are they allowed to have one single kid who inherits the lands and property and allegiances of both Tanja and Osena?

            If the answer is No, then Abi’s potential kid by Razin might solve that little problem.

            I suspect there must be some traditional response to illegitimate kids in the Dominion. The Levantines are so hot-blooded, violent, and probably horny that it must have happened before, and often. Either they go for vendettas as per the usual, or they’re completely blase about illegitimacy.

            I have no idea which is more likely.

            Liked by 1 person

        2. Morgenstern

          Why can’t there be “that many engaged couples in the army” when it comes to the _Dominion’s_ army, though? They obviously have no gender bias when it comes to fighting and killing, and the whole thing can (see Aquiline vs Razin) even serve as love-maker for them… it would seem to be “a wonderful pastime” for Levantine couples to go out and fight together, judging by what we’ve been shown of their culture so far. 😉 What with the “social event of the decade” this very chapter and all that “honor and blood” stuff.

          Liked by 1 person

          1. Frivolous

            I suppose there could be many engaged couples, but I’m suspecting most are either single or already married.

            Engagement, after all, is usually a temporary condition. Like being pregnant.

            Liked by 1 person

    1. BringBlackBack

      What he meant when he said debt is her pitying him. Remember earlier, when he made a bullshit request to give Orcs stuff and she said no? She passed his test. She put the lives of people over her friend’s feelings. So, when Hakram says he doesn’t want to hear anything about debt, he means that he doesn’t want her to pity him and his crippled state, rather then treat him like an equal and as a man who decided to follow her and live with the consequences.

      Liked by 3 people

  6. mamm0nn

    Alright, it’s a bit creepy how close I was with predicting Cat’s conversation with Abigail last chapter. Different names, but the same sentiment. That said, Viv might have some competition for the Queenship of Callow now. At this point there are few ways to screw over Abigail with promotions left.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Queens can abdicate. If she gets to Queen (another chess metaphor?) she can finally rest.

      Although that’s just the legal side of it, she might still have some other moral, emotional, magical or Name-related bonds on her that keep her even then, and I guess she probably would.

      Liked by 1 person

      1. mamm0nn

        Abigail: Oh shit, I can’t abdicate because angry mobs will lynch me if I leave, let the government implode and also the Tower will probably try to assassinate me just to make sure I cannot make a heroic comeback to rally Callow defeated a few decades from now.

        Liked by 3 people

  7. Captain Amazing

    I think the Bard is trying to sever all of Catherine’s close relationships. The attack on the Arsenal weakened her friendship with both Hakram and Hanno and killed the Repentant Magister. This leaves the starcrossed lover plot to the Kingfisher Prince, and that couldn’t last. The mentor relationship with the Scorched Apostate was killed in the cradle. I think that fear she’s feeling is left over from the demon attack as Bard had the demon target the relationship. Masego doesn’t know about the effects of terror demons.

    Notably, Cat’s friendship with Vivienne is still intact because she doesn’t have a name anymore.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. Cap'n Smurfy

      Damn I hadn’t picked up on that at all. Plus if it wasn’t for Hakram Cat would have left Archer alone after Beastmasters death, creating more distance between them. I wonder how Beastmasters actually died, considering we didn’t even see his perspective but got that Monk’s one. The one who also died not five minutes later…

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Morgenstern

        The Sage, you mean? (The Monk was one of the traitors in the Arsenal, quite a few chapters back.)

        We got a very roundabout quick summary of Indrani being there with Beastmaster during the fight he died in, what with the broken arm and all that. So my second gut instinct of him getting killed when he just found vital information that will now never reach the army – right after the first of them not recovering the body and him coming back as Revenant – went right out the window, when it was confirmed that Indrani had been with him and his body recovered. Well, shucks.
        Simply not a really relevant death then, I think – other than as emotional plot hook for further character development.

        Other than the Sage who seemingly _did_ find vital info – just to get sniped before he could tell anybody what he found out (or make use of it himself). Sad.

        Liked by 1 person

  8. Frivolous

    Hmm. Now that General Abigail has become General Lady Abigail and is eligible to give herself a last name, I wonder what happens to her family, the brothers and maybe mother and the uncle and ferret-faced cousins. Do they get the last name, too, or is it only Abigail’s own children?

    And what if Abigail gets married to someone else with a last name? Does her last name get swallowed up by her spouse’s last name, thus disappearing?

    Does anyone know the historical precedents for such?

    Liked by 1 person

    1. From what I can gather, a hereditary title is inherited by descendants of the original grantee, so Abigail’s kids could inherit, but her existing family isn’t affected. Which child exactly depends on Callow’s rules of succession – typically it’s the firstborn male heir, but Calernia tends to have more gender equality, so it might be firstborn of any gender.

      If she marries another noble, she and her children get the man’s last name – during the crusade, a Callowan noble mentions that the Procerans wanted to marry her daughter specifically so that any children would take Proceran last names. (Callow apparently allows same-sex marriage, but no word on what happens to the title then.)

      I believe the noble title still exists, last name or no, but Abigail’s title doesn’t seem to include anything but her last name. She’s not the Lady of anywhere, she’s just Lady Abigail. So I think the title would disappear for most purposes, but it could pop up again if it became relevant somehow (divorce? widowing? husband gets his title revoked?).

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Morgenstern

        Maybe that’s where some double and triple titles of nobles come from, not just them owning multiple regions?

        I would wager there are different rules about that in different countries, though. Some losing the name of the less relevant partner (rules for which being which might vary), others making double titles out of the two, … there might be others yet, but I’m seemingly too tired to grasp the thought that just went by 😉

        Liked by 1 person

      2. Frivolous

        I think it would be a shame if Abi’s new last name were lost simply because she married someone who also had a last name. I mean, new original noble last names must be pretty rare, right?

        Abi is a little like the Callowan version of Lorenzo Malanza, elevated to the nobility because he was a great general. And, you know, defeated his predecessor Juan Osuna.

        I wonder if old Lorenzo had Malanza as a last name before or only after he became Prince of Aequitan.

        Liked by 1 person

  9. Crowley

    Poor Abigail getting the short end of the stick again. And paired with Scribe, this should be interesting. I’m looking forward to an interlude with them together, maybe even from Scribe’s POV for once.
    Cat and Hakram needed that talk. And just when you think they’re cool, he pulls that line. Hakram, you gossipy bitch, there were enough feels around, that threat’s gonna keep Cat and readers on edge.
    Lysander’s wake and its aftermath was all lovely in every way. Glad to see how well those three get along.
    Masego at the end though, it’s this kind of cliffhangers that make me curse the day i caught up.

    Didn’t see a typo thread, so i guess i’ll start one.

    hair was seemingly match-> hair was seemingly matched
    keep of secrets-> keeper of secrets
    Indran-> Indrani
    His licked his chops-> He licked
    barring from the battlefield-> barring me from the battlefield
    seized me by throat-> seized me by the throat
    with little usual scarf-> with the little usual scarf
    looked nothing all-> looked nothing alike
    if clapped chains-> if you clapped chains
    Taking here of her-> Taking care of her
    instead if Indrani->instead of Indrani
    I’ve seen the other side lives-> I’ve seen how the other side lives

    Liked by 2 people

  10. Valkyria

    Poor Abigail, Cat unfortunately likes her.

    But props to her to still believe in those early retirement plans. Being this convinced against all the odds takes some hardened resolve.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. JJR

      Cat is smart enough to not make the mistake of toying with her enemies. But she is still a cat, and she needs to toy with someone when she’s bored; friends it is then.

      Liked by 4 people

  11. Juff

    Typo Thread:

    ringing bell > ringing a bell
    match with > matched with
    build off > build up
    loaded die > loaded dice
    inside before, it > inside before; it
    to us than everything (extra space)
    seems delicate > seems a delicate
    afterwards, “it’s > afterwards. “It’s
    her card > her cards
    Indran actually > Indrani actually
    His licked his chops > He licked his chops,
    currently said. (i’m not sure what this should be)
    barring from > barring me from
    saddling with > saddling him with
    alone on > alone in
    them a large > them were a large
    looked nothing all > looked nothing at all alike
    sowed on > sewed on
    she proud > she was proud (or acted?)
    if clapped chains > if it clapped chains
    Taking here of her > Taking care of her
    And believe that > And believing that (or your belief in that?)
    if Indrani > of Indrani
    seen the other side > seen how the other side


  12. Shveiran

    This chapter made me laugh like a fool, then it punched me in the guts, then it moved my heart, and to finish me off filled me with a sense of expectation fully worthy of a weekend cliffhanger.

    Do I even need to say that this was amazing?

    I suppose I will, just in case. You are a wonder, EE. Thank you truly for these amazing gifts you keep offering us.

    Liked by 1 person

  13. ““You’re a Calamity?” Abigail wailed.

    “Retired,” Scribe noted. “I am now gainfully employed by the Kingdom of Callow. Which has my adequately remunerated loyalty.”

    “You conquered the Kingdom of Callow,” the general said, voice gone shrill with dismay.

    “It’s a fair point,” I admitted.

    “She has you there,” Adjutant agreed.

    Scribe shot us a look that was deeply put-upon, though I’d met the godsdamned Calamities so if she was going to try to sell me she was used to less fucking around she was going to have to do better than that.

    “I promise not to do it again,” Scribe tried.”



    Liked by 8 people

    1. nimelennar

      Come on, Scribe, don’t make promises with caveats unless you explicitly state those caveats.

      Which is to say, if Black asked her to conquer Callow again, you know she’d totally do it, promise or not.

      Liked by 1 person

  14. LarsBlitzer

    Another chapter title relating to Chess! This time it’s “Adjournment.” Which, in this context means to suspend the game in progress so it can be continued at another time, typically the following day. The rationale is that games often extend in duration beyond what is reasonable for a single session of play. As in chess, there is sometimes a sealed move, where the next move that would be made is sealed in an envelope, to be played out when the game resumes (normally played by the director or arbiter). This practice ensures that neither player knows what the board position will be when it is their next turn to move.

    In this case, we’re at a lull between battles; the war is temporarily suspended, and the “sealed move” in this context is pretty blatant: the bestowal of title to Lady Abigail Cain-Blackadder (a placemarker until she decides on a surname) and saddling her with the Scribe to keep her focused.

    Liked by 3 people

  15. Daniel E

    Totally called Abigail getting a raw deal from the previous chapter. I am actually in tears from laughing, even the drama afterwards can not detract from my joy. Best part is Hakram with a legendary poker face talking about their magical assassins, and Abigail actually cheers up a little as she agrees that placing them in the rank & file is too obvious. Gods be with you, Admiral Abigail.

    Liked by 3 people

  16. The Abigail scene was glorious, had me laughing the whole time.

    And Idrani’s scene was just as good, but in a way that left me very quiet.

    Thank you for this story. It’s really better than I can do justice with words.

    Liked by 2 people

  17. Frivolous

    I have been trying to remember what Abigail’s situation reminds me of, and I realized her situation mirrors the plot of Going Postal by Terry Pratchett.

    Abigail is Moist, the overly competent and very slippery criminal who flourishes under pressure. Scribe is the golem, assigned to follow Moist around and keep him in line. Cat is Vetinari, the resourcefully sadistic tyrant.

    Only Abi isn’t a criminal, she just really wants to go home. Scribe doesn’t want to kill Abi, though Abi probably thinks differently. But Cat really is a lot like Vetinari, especially from Abi’s perspective.

    Abigail’s reputation will probably skyrocket once it becomes known that she has been assigned not just any Named but a Calamity. Her own personal Calamity, both literally and figuratively. Or her reputation would, if Scribe were not so completely forgettable.

    Liked by 1 person

  18. Crash

    Think this might be my new favourite chapter.

    It has everything. Abigail being mercilessly needled by Cat and Hakram. Heavy Woe interactions but also loving, in their own way and… Who am I kidding?

    “I promise I wont do it again.”

    Absolutely broke me. Completely lost it.

    I love this.

    Liked by 1 person

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