The Infernal Battalion

by Django Wexler

  “You’ve done a lot of these marches,” he said, wheezing a bit. “Haven’t you?”

  “I suppose I have,” Winter said. It still felt odd, sometimes, to think of herself as a veteran. We’ve crammed a lot of fighting into the last two years.

  “How often does it happen,” Abraham said, “that somebody’s legs actually fall off?”

  Winter grinned. “Never, to my knowledge.”

  “Then I think I might be a unique case.” He paused, leaning on his stick. “I spent too much time reading and not enough running back and forth in the snow, apparently. Or whatever it is the rest of you did.”

  “You’re doing better than half my recruits,” Winter said. “The first serious march of the Velt campaign, we had to send the cavalry back every night to round up the stragglers, and it sometimes took until morning.”

  Winter wondered, abruptly, where those recruits were now. The Steel Ghost had told her the majority of the Vordanai army had returned home, but Raesinia would have to respond to the threat Janus posed. Are they marching again? Is Abby with them? Is Cyte? Between the two of them, at least the Girls’ Own would be in good hands. And Marcus will find a way through. He always has.

  Abraham had said something, and she’d missed it. Winter blinked and shook her head. “Sorry?”

  “I said, tell me we’re nearly there.”

  “We’re nearly there,” Winter said obediently. “There’s a stream up ahead. We’ll camp just on the other side.”

  “Thank God.” Abraham paused again, breathing hard, then looked over his shoulder. The Haeta rear guard were catching up with them, but the young women were still some distance away. “I didn’t get a chance to ask about the plan.”

  “What plan?”

  “Our plan. How long are we going to stay with the Haeta?”

  “As long as we can,” Winter said. “We’ll be safer from the Beast.”

  “We will,” Abraham said, starting his trudge forward again. “What about them?”

  Winter grimaced. For all that the Haeta had been enemies of the Vordanai, Leti and her people hadn’t been anything but helpful. It was hard, knowing she might be putting them in danger. “I hope it’ll be safer for them, too,” she said. “I don’t think the red-​eyes will leave them alone if they catch up, do you?”

  “I doubt it,” Abraham said. “But they’re still following us.”

  They’re following me, Winter thought, but didn’t say it. At least Alex and Abraham got into this with their eyes open. “We can stick together until we make it to the river, at least. Then we can try to find transport downstream, and they’ll want to head north anyway. That might get us clear of the Beast, at least for a while.”

  Abraham nodded. Winter couldn’t tell if she’d convinced him, or if he was just too tired to argue. Either way, they walked in silence until they came to the stream, where several Haeta waited to show them the shallowest place to splash across. The water had the bitter cold of snowmelt, and Winter was glad for the thick, waterproof boots they’d given her at the Mountain. On the other side, tents were already going up on a small rise.

  Leti has good instincts. The wilderness aptitude of the Haeta extended to building a camp—​they could have their small, steep-​sided tents up in a matter of minutes, and a fire going in a few minutes more. Everyone seemed to know their assigned roles without being told, and performed them with only minimal supervision.

  It was all the more impressive because of how young they were. It had taken Winter several nights to realize that Leti, who couldn’t be older than twenty, was easily the oldest of the Haeta warriors. The youngest, gangly, wide-​eyed girls with spots, looked like they were about fourteen, and the majority were somewhere in between. Not that we didn’t have plenty of young ones in the Girl’s Own, I suppose. But we didn’t send them off by themselves.

  Alex was already working on setting up their own tent, larger than the Haeta’s and considerably more cumbersome. Winter joined in, letting Abraham sit on a stone and guzzle ice-​cold water. By the time it was up, some of the Haeta had started cooking. They carried rations, dried meat and roasted vegetable cakes, but the advance guard doubled as hunters, and they had considerably more success than Winter and Alex had. A variety of rabbits, squirrels, and other small creatures had been brought down, and the young women now rapidly skinned them and set the meat to cooking. The smell made Winter’s stomach rumble.

  Leti and her sister, Vess, sat near the fire, their part in the night’s chores apparently done. Vess was speaking urgently in low tones, and Leti nodded periodically, as though distracted. At Winter’s approach, Vess looked up and said something sharp. Leti turned and beckoned; Vess, disgusted, spat what sounded like a curse and stalked off through the camp.

  “Did I do something wrong?” Winter said.

  “She doesn’t trust you,” Leti said. “She thinks I am a fool for allowing you to travel with us.”

  “That doesn’t seem very gracious, after Abraham saved her life,” Winter said, settling down on a damp stone. The warmth of the fire beat against her clothes, gradually seeping in.

  “Do not think ill of her. She worries that you helped her only to gain our trust. She would happily have died if it meant saving the rest of us.” Leti looked into the flames. “In truth, the priests might agree with her. I was the one who acted... against tradition. I could not stand to watch her die.”

  “The priests are in charge? When you’re back home, I mean.”

  “In peacetime, yes. When we are called to war, the tribe elects a warleader, and each cohort follows suit.”

  “Is that how you got to be in charge?” Winter hesitated. “Sorry, I don’t mean to pry. I’m just curious.”

  “I understand. I hope you will not mind answering some questions as well.” Leti’s smile was shy. “You are the first southerner I have met, except for the representatives of Elysium. I must say you are not what I expected.”

  “Of course. I’d be happy to.” Though, Winter reflected, she might have to be careful with some of her answers. Leti had accepted that Abraham was a Blessed One, so apparently the theology of the Haeta was not as black-​and-​white on the subject of magic as that of the Black Priests they served. But she still had no idea what that entailed, or what might cast doubt on that status.

  Leti said, “To answer your question, yes. I had the honor of being elected to lead this century.”

  “Are all the warriors of the Haeta so young?”

  Leti laughed. “No, of course not. We are warriors of the second line.” She seemed to be struggling to find good words in Murnskai. “It means... those who have only just passed their blooding, and lack experience. We accompany the warhost, but serve as scouts and camp guards, unless the warleader deems it a true emergency.”

  Winter nodded, understanding. A bunch of recruits after all. Girls on their first adventure, out for seasoning. And it turned into a nightmare. “So how did you end up out here by yourselves?”

  “Some of it I still do not understand,” Leti said. “We came south in the summer. It should have been four moons, at least, to the first snow. But the blizzards came suddenly, as hard as they are in the farthest north of our land. We suffered badly.” She looked around at the circle of tents. “There were a hundred in our century when we left home.”

  Winter had counted thirty-​four Haeta, including Leti and Vess. She lowered her eyes respectfully.

  “There was a battle against the heretics,” Leti said. “At the river Kovria. Many fell on both sides. Afterward, the heretics moved south, back toward their own lands, and the warleader said our task was done. But as we came north, the weather worsened. Our century was forced to take cover in a blizzard or freeze. When we emerged, there was no sign of the others, and the snow had obliterated their tracks.” She shook her head. “The weather improved soon after, but that was when the demons came. What you call the red-​eyes. Some of them wore the forms of our own people, some Murnskai soldiers, some common peas
ants. But they are driven by unnatural spirits.”

  Winter nodded. That’s as good a description as any. “And you’ve been working your way home since?”

  “Yes. It has been slow. We are too few to fight, and bands of red-​eyes and Murnskai soldiers wander the forests. But we are close now. A few more days and we will cross the river and be in friendly lands.” Leti sighed. “I only pray to God others made it home as well.”

  “I hope so, too,” Winter said. She was surprised to find that she meant it. The Haeta and other Trans-​Batariai tribes might have fought the Grand Army, but they’d been as much victims of the Black Priests as the peasants who’d slaughtered their own children to keep the Vordanai from stealing their souls. Elysium has a great deal to answer for.

  “And you?” Leti said. “The business of a Blessed One is his own, of course, but it is unusual to meet anyone this deep in the forest.”

  “We were fleeing the red-​eyes,” Winter said. “Actually, our story isn’t so different from yours. I was seeking the... Blessed One with a small band of companions when the weather turned.” That wasn’t precisely true—​they’d been chasing the Penitent who’d poisoned Janus, but they’d certainly ended up finding Abraham. “Many of us were killed. Our goal now is to reach the river Bataria and find a ship, and we thought keeping to the woods would be safer. We didn’t know the red-​eyes were waiting.” She hesitated, then added, “It’s possible they are seeking us.” Let her think it’s Abraham they’re after. At least she’s been warned.

  “Demons have a great hatred for Blessed Ones,” Leti agreed. Winter breathed a silent prayer of thanks that this was apparently plausible. “Have you always been his attendant?”

  “No,” Winter said. “I was—​I am, I suppose—​a soldier. An officer, actually.”

  “A soldier?” Leti’s brow creased. “The priests told us that in the south women were not permitted to fight.”

  Winter thought about going into the story of her disguise, and how some people knew and other people didn’t. Ultimately, she decided it was too complicated to explain—​frankly, I have trouble keeping track—​and didn’t make much difference.

  “That was true for a long time,” she said. “But things have changed recently.”

  Leti smiled. “Perhaps there is hope for southerners yet, then.”

  Winter grinned back. “Perhaps there is.”

  *

  After dinner, Winter retired to her tent. Most of the Haeta did the same, though a few would trade off sentry duty throughout the night. I should offer to take my turn. It was only fair, though she was sure the woods-​trained warriors would be better lookouts. So far no one had asked her, and she’d been so tired in the evenings that she hadn’t pressed the issue.

  Abraham was already sound asleep, rolled up in his blanket. Alex lay under hers, but she sat up as Winter came in.

  “Listen,” she said, before Winter could speak.

  Winter paused, head cocked. The distant chuckling of the stream was audible, and the whistling of the wind in the leafless trees.

  “What—” Winter began, and Alex waved a hand for quiet.

  Another sound reached them, a low moan, followed by a quick yelp, faint but distinct. Winter raised an eyebrow.

  “Not that,” Alex said. “That’s just the Haeta having sex. They do that a lot.”

  “They do?”

  “Sure. You haven’t noticed?”

  “I haven’t been paying close attention,” Winter said archly.

  “They don’t always sleep in the same tents,” Alex said. “I don’t know if they have some kind of rotation or draw lots or what. If you ask Leti, they might be willing to include you—”

  Winter fixed Alex with a glare, and the girl went quiet. After a moment, she said, “Sorry. That was... sorry. I know you and Cyte... I mean, I’m sure when you get back...” Alex ran down again, took a deep breath, and added, “Sorry.”

  “So if we’re not playing voyeur,” Winter said, after a moment’s silence, “what am I listening for?”

  “It’s—​there!” Alex went quiet, and Winter listened as well. The sound was on the edge of hearing, a long, mournful howl, fading rapidly into echoes. It was followed by another, and another, until it was difficult to tell where the howling ended and the echoes began.

  “Wolves,” Winter said. “Is that a problem?”

  “I’m not sure,” Alex said. “It sounds like there’s a hell of a lot of them.”

  “It’s a big forest,” Winter said uneasily. She didn’t know much about wolves. Almost all her time in the wilderness had been spent in the company of marching armies, where wildlife usually wasn’t much of a concern.

  “The thing is,” Alex said, “I haven’t heard any up until now.”

  Winter frowned. “Maybe they’ve just been keeping quiet.”

  “Maybe.” Alex shook her head. “Mention it to Leti? Just to ease my mind.”

  “I will.”

  “Thanks.”

  Alex lay back down. Winter undressed in the dark and slipped under her own blanket. The thick wool the Mountain people had provided warmed up quickly, and she pulled it tighter with a contented sigh. Her legs burned, but her stomach was full, and for a moment she felt almost calm. Maybe it’s being in a proper camp again. There’s something about knowing there are people all around you.

  “I really am sorry,” Alex said quietly.

  “I forgive you,” Winter said. “Honestly. Just go to sleep.”

  Outside, the howls went on.

  *

  They saw the first of the wolves the next day, just a glimpse of a long gray body through a break in the decaying undergrowth. Winter, walking near the front of the column, pointed in time for the Haeta nearby to catch a glimpse of it.

  “I heard them howling last night,” Winter said to Leti. “I didn’t realize they were so close.”

  “Howls at night are very hard to place,” Leti said. “But don’t let them worry you. Wolves will not attack humans. Most likely they follow us hoping to make a meal of our leavings.”

  Winter nodded. The flash of gray was gone, and she couldn’t see any others. I think we have more to fear from the Beast than from anything that lives in these woods. She shook her head, looking back over the marching column, and trudged on.

  Sometime later, her curiosity finally got the better of her. “Leti, can I ask you something about your people?”

  “Of course.”

  Leti had taken to spending most of her time beside Winter on the march. Winter had noticed Leti didn’t talk much to her fellow Haeta, who were otherwise constantly chattering in their own tongue. She wondered if it was a social dynamic she didn’t understand, or simply the difficulty of being the one in charge. I certainly know how that feels.

  “When your girls go to their tents for the night, they... hmm.” Winter’s Murnskai vocabulary wasn’t really up to this particular challenge, at least while remaining polite. I suppose I could always ask Abraham. “They, ah, touch one another?”

  “Of course, if they are lovers.” Leti cocked her head, frowning. “It is different in the south?”

  “Sort of. I mean. Most women don’t take... other women as lovers.”

  “It is expected for members of a warhost to take lovers among their century,” Leti said. “It is the same among the men. It increases their tenacity in battle.”

  “What happens to them when they get home?”

  Leti shrugged. “Most leave such things in the wilds where they belong. Warriors of the second line can expect to have their husbands presented to them soon after their blooding, when they become full adults.”

  “I... see.”

  Winter had never been able to guess what lay in store for herself beyond the end of the war. At times—​many times—​she’d despaired seeing the end of the war at all, told herself that it wasn’t even worth thinking about. She and Cyte had pointedly never talked about it, about what might happen once peace finally returned
and the rules of civilized society rolled over the Girls’ Own like a tide.

  It felt like an indulgence to even consider it now. After all, even the Steel Ghost said I probably won’t survive using Infernivore on the Beast, assuming by some miracle I make it that far. But, Winter thought, she was owed a little self-​indulgence.

  I’m sure Raesinia would help us. It wasn’t like Winter had any profession, outside the army. Surely the queen could find me a sinecure, though. And then...

  She couldn’t even picture the “and then.” Her mind rebelled. She’d been taking her life one day—​one hour—​at a time for so long that she couldn’t imagine what it would be like without danger. When she could assume today would be more or less the same as yesterday and tomorrow. Settle down? Raise children? That was what people did, as far as she knew, but...

  “There’s another one,” Leti said.

  “Hmm?” Winter looked up and saw the wolf, standing on a rocky outcrop, staring down at the passing column with steady interest.

  “They usually aren’t so eager to show themselves,” Leti said, looking back. “I wonder if there’s something wrong with it.”

  “It looks... thin,” Winter said. Her skin prickled. The wolf’s ribs were clearly visible, and its coat was patchy. Its tongue lolled, breath steaming in the chilly air.

  Three Haeta, led by Vess, came running up the length of the column. Seeing Winter standing beside her sister, Vess hesitated for a moment, then strode forward.

  “Wolves,” she said. “A dozen or more at the rear of the column, following close.”

  “Wolves will not attack humans,” Leti repeated, though now she didn’t sound quite as certain.

  “Wolves don’t gather in packs larger than a half dozen, either,” Vess said.

  “I think,” Winter said, “that the rules may have changed.” She had an image of packs stalking through the empty forests, with most of their usual game fled or dead and rotting. Getting hungrier and hungrier, until...