The Collected Joe Abercrombie (403 page)

There was a long pause, while Dow watched her and she watched him. Like the accused waiting for the judge to pass sentence.

‘I’ve a mind to let you go,’ he said. ‘I want you to take a message back to your father. Let him know I don’t see the purpose shedding any more blood over this worthless fucking valley. Let him know I’m willing to talk.’ Dow gave a loud sniff, worked his mouth as if it tasted bad. ‘Talk about …
peace.’

Finree blinked. ‘Talk.’

‘That’s right.’

‘About peace.’

‘That’s right.’

She felt dizzy. Drunk on the sudden prospect of living to see her husband and her father again. But she had to put that to one side, think past it. She took a long breath through her nose and steadied herself. ‘That will not be good enough.’

She was pleased to see Black Dow look quite surprised. ‘Won’t it, now?’

‘No.’ It was difficult to appear authoritative while bruised, beaten, dirt-spattered and surrounded by the most daunting enemies, but Finree did her very best. She would not get through this with meekness. Black Dow wished to deal with someone powerful. That would make him feel powerful. The more powerful she made herself, the safer she was. So she raised her chin and looked him full in the eye. ‘You need to make a gesture of goodwill. Something to let my father know you are serious. That you are willing to negotiate. Proof you are a reasonable man.’

Black Dow snorted. ‘You hear that, Craw? Goodwill. Me.’

The older man shrugged. ‘Proof you’re reasonable.’

‘More proof than sending back his daughter without a hole in her head?’ grated Dow, looking her up and down. ‘Or her head in her hole, for that matter.’

She floated over it. ‘After the battle yesterday, you must have prisoners.’ Unless they had all been murdered. Looking into Black Dow’s eyes, it did not seem unlikely.

‘’Course we’ve got prisoners.’ Dow cocked his head on one side, drifting closer. ‘You think I’m some kind of an animal?’

Finree did, in fact. ‘I want them released.’

‘Do you, now? All of ’em?’

‘Yes.’

‘For nothing?’

‘A gesture of—’

He jerked forwards, nose almost touching hers, thick veins bulging from the side of his thick neck. ‘You’re in no place to negotiate, you fucking little—’

‘You aren’t negotiating with me!’ Finree barked back at him, showing her teeth. ‘You’re negotiating with my father, and he is in every position! Otherwise you wouldn’t be
fucking
asking!’

A ripple of twitches went through Dow’s cheek, and for an instant she was sure he was going to beat her to a pulp. Or give the smallest signal to his metal-eyed henchman and she would be slit from her arse to the back of her head. Dow’s arm jerked up, and for an instant she was sure her death was a breath away. But all he did was grin, and gently wag his finger in her face. ‘Oh, you’re a sharp one. You didn’t tell me she was so sharp.’

‘I am shocked to my very roots,’ intoned the black-skinned woman, looking about as shocked as the wall behind her.

‘All right.’ Dow puffed out his scarred cheeks. ‘I’ll let some of the wounded ones go. Don’t need their sobbing keeping me awake tonight anyway. Let’s say five dozen men.’

‘You have more?’

‘A lot more, but my goodwill’s a brittle little thing. Five dozen is all it’ll stretch around.’

An hour ago she had not seen any way to save herself. Her knees were almost buckling at the thought of coming out of this alive and saving sixty men besides. But she had to try one more thing. ‘There was another woman taken with me—’

‘Can’t do it.’

‘You don’t know what I’m going to ask—’

‘Yes I do, and I can’t do it. Stranger-Come-Knocking, that big bastard who took you prisoner? Man’s mad as a grass helmet. He don’t answer to me. Don’t answer to nothing. You’ve no idea what it’s cost me getting you. I can’t afford to buy anyone else.’

‘Then I won’t help you.’

Dow clicked his tongue. ‘Sharp is good, but you don’t want to get so sharp you cut your own throat. You won’t help me, you’re no use to me at all. Might as well send you back to Stranger-Come-Fucking, eh? The way I see it, you got two choices. Back to your father and share in the peace, or back to your friend and share in … whatever she’s got coming. Which appeals?’

Finree thought of Aliz’ scared breath, in the darkness. Her whimper as Finree’s hand slipped out of hers. She thought of that scarred giant, smashing his own man’s head apart against the wall. She wished she was brave enough to have tried to call the bluff, at least. But who would be?

‘My father,’ she whispered, and it was the most she could do to stop herself crying with relief.

‘Don’t feel bad about it.’ Black Dow drew his murderer’s grin one more time. ‘That’s the choice I’d have made. Happy fucking journey.’

The bag came down over her head.

*

Craw waited until Shivers had bundled the hooded girl through the door before leaning forward, one finger up, and gently asking his question. ‘Er … what’s going on, Chief?’

Dow frowned at him. ‘You’re supposed to be my Second, old man. You should be the last one questioning me.’

Craw held up his palms. ‘And I will be. I’m all for peace, believe me, just might help if I understood why you want it of a sudden.’

‘Want?’ barked Dow, jerking towards him like a hound got the scent. ‘
Want?’
Closer still, making Craw back up against the wall. ‘I got what I want I’d hang the whole fucking Union and choke this valley with the smoke o’ their cooking meat and sink Angland, Midderland and all their bloody other land in the bottom o’ the Circle Sea, how’s that for peace?’

‘Right.’ Craw cleared his throat, rightly wishing he hadn’t asked the question. ‘Right y’are.’

‘But that’s being Chief, ain’t it?’ snarled Dow in his face. ‘A dancing fucking procession o’ things you don’t want to do! If I’d known what it meant when I took the chain I’d have tossed it in the river along with the Bloody-Nine. Threetrees warned me, but I didn’t listen. There’s no curse like getting what you want.’

Craw winced. ‘So … why, then?’

‘Because the dead know I’m no peacemaker but I’m no idiot either. Your little friend Calder may be a pissing coward but he’s got a point. It’s a damn fool risks his life for what he can get just by the asking. Not everyone’s got my appetite for the fight. Men are getting tired, the Union are too many to beat and in case you hadn’t noticed we’re trousers down in a pit full of bloody snakes. Ironhead? Golden? Stranger-Come-Bragging? I don’t trust those bastards further’n I can piss with no hands. Better finish this up now while we can call it a win.’

‘Fair point,’ croaked Craw.

‘Got what I want there’d be no bloody talk at all.’ Dow’s face twitched, and he looked over at Ishri, leaning in the shadows against the wall, face a blank, black mask. He ran his tongue around the inside of his sneering mouth and spat. ‘But calmer heads have prevailed. We’ll try peace on, see whether it chafes. Now get that bitch back to her father ’fore I change my mind and cut the bloody cross in her for the fucking exercise.’

Craw edged for the door sideways, like a crab. ‘On my way, Chief.’

Hearts and Minds

‘H
ow long should we spend out here, Corporal?’

‘As short a time as is possible without disgrace, Yolk.’

‘How long’s that?’

‘Until it’s too dark for me to see your gurning visage would be a start.’

‘And we patrol, do we?’

‘No, Yolk, we’ll just walk a few dozen strides and sit down for a while.’

‘Where will we find to sit that isn’t wet as an otter’s—’

‘Shh,’ hissed Tunny, waving at Yolk to get down. There were men in the trees on the other side of the rise. Three men, and two of them in Union uniforms. ‘Huh.’ One was Lance Corporal Hedges. A squinty, mean-spirited rat of a man who’d been with the First for about three years and thought himself quite the rogue but was no better than a nasty idiot. The kind of bad soldier who gives proper bad soldiers a bad name. His gangly sidekick was unfamiliar, probably a new recruit. Hedges’ version of Yolk, which was truly a concept too horrifying to entertain.

They both had swords drawn and pointed at a Northman, but Tunny could tell right off he was no fighter. Dressed in a dirty coat with a belt around it, a bow over one shoulder and some arrows in a quiver, no other weapon visible. A hunter, maybe, or a trapper, he looked somewhat baffled and somewhat scared. Hedges had a black fur in one hand. Didn’t take a great mind to work it all out.

‘Why, Lance Corporal Hedges!’ Tunny grinned wide as he stood and strolled down the bank, his hand loose on the hilt of his sword, just to make sure everyone realised he had one.

Hedges squinted guiltily over at him. ‘Keep out o’ this, Tunny. We found him, he’s ours.’

‘Yours? Where in the rule book does it say prisoners are yours to abuse because you found them?’

‘What do you care about the rules? What’re you doing here, I’d like to know.’

‘As it happens, First Sergeant Forest sent me and Trooper Yolk on patrol to make sure none of our men were out beyond the picket causing mischief. And what should I find but you, out beyond the picket and in the process of robbing this civilian. I call that mischievous. Do you call that mischievous, Yolk?’

‘Well, er …’

Tunny didn’t wait for an answer. ‘You know what General Jalenhorm said. We’re out to win hearts and minds as much as anything else. Can’t have you robbing the locals, Hedges. Just can’t have it. Contrary to our whole approach up here.’

‘General fucking Jalenhorm?’ Hedges snorted. ‘Hearts and minds? You? Don’t make me laugh!’

‘Make you laugh?’ Tunny frowned. ‘Make you
laugh
? Trooper Yolk, I want you to raise your loaded flatbow and point it at Lance Corporal Hedges.’

Yolk stared. ‘What?’

‘What?’ grunted Hedges.

Tunny threw up an arm. ‘You heard me, point your bow!’

Yolk raised the bow so that the bolt was aimed uncertainly at Hedges’ stomach. ‘Like this?’

‘How else exactly? Lance Corporal Hedges, how’s this for a laugh? I will count to three. If you haven’t handed that Northman back his fur by the time I get there I will order Trooper Yolk to shoot. You never know, you’re only five strides away, he might even hit you.’

‘Now, look—’

‘One.’

‘Look!’

‘Two.’

‘All right! All right.’ Hedges tossed the fur in the Northman’s face then stomped angrily away through the trees. ‘But you’ll fucking pay for this, Tunny, I can tell you that!’

Tunny turned, grinning, and strolled after him. Hedges was opening his mouth for another prize retort when Tunny coshed him across the side of the head with his canteen, which represented a considerable weight when full. It happened so fast Hedges didn’t even try to duck, just went down hard in the mud.

‘You’ll fucking pay for this,
Corporal
Tunny,’ he hissed, and booted Hedges in the groin to underscore the point. Then he took Hedges’ new canteen, and tucked his own badly dented one into his belt where it had been. ‘Something to keep me in your thoughts.’ He looked up at Hedges’ lanky sidekick, fully occupied gawping. ‘Anything to add, pikestaff?’

‘I … I—’

‘I? What do you think that adds? Shoot him, Yolk.’

‘What?’ squeaked Yolk.

‘What?’ squeaked the tall trooper.

‘I’m joking, idiots! Bloody hell, does no one think at all but me? Drag your prick of a lance corporal back behind the lines, and if I see either one of you out here again I’ll bloody shoot you myself.’ The lanky one helped Hedges up, whimpering, bow-legged and bloody-haired, and the two of them shuffled off into the trees. Tunny waited until they’d disappeared from sight. Then he turned to the Northman and held out his hand. ‘Fur, please.’

To be fair to the man, in spite of any troubles with the language, he fully understood. His face sagged, and he slapped the fur down into Tunny’s hand. It wasn’t that good a one, even, now he got a close look at it, rough-cured and sour-smelling. ‘What else you got there?’ Tunny came closer, one hand on the hilt of his sword, just in case, and started patting the man down.

‘We’re robbing him?’ Yolk had his bow on the Northman now, which meant it was a good deal closer to Tunny than he’d have liked.

‘That a problem? Didn’t you tell me you were a convicted thief?’

‘I told you I didn’t do it.’

‘Exactly what a thief would say! This isn’t robbery, Yolk, it’s war.’ The Northman had some strips of dried meat, Tunny pocketed them. He had a flint and tinder, Tunny tossed them. No money, but that was far from surprising. Coinage hadn’t fully caught on up here.

‘He’s got a blade!’ squeaked Yolk, waving his bow about.

‘A skinning knife, idiot!’ Tunny took it and put it in his own belt. ‘We’ll stick some rabbit blood on it, say it came off a Named Man dead in battle, and you can bet some fool will pay for it back in Adua.’ He took the Northman’s bow and arrows too. Didn’t want him trying a shot at them out of spite. He looked a bit on the spiteful side, but then Tunny probably would’ve looked spiteful himself if he’d just been robbed. Twice. He wondered about taking the trapper’s coat, but it wasn’t much more than rags, and he thought it might have been a Union one in the first place anyway. Tunny had stolen a score of new Union coats out of the quartermaster’s stores back in Ostenhorm, and hadn’t been able to shift them all yet.