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Everything comes to a head as Jon, taken prisoner, learns that Dhamishaya is inches from chaos. But will he be able to stop it?

This is it :P I think this is perhaps not actually it--there's more to be told in this story--but it is the plot I originally had outlined for The Road to Mandalay_, many years ago. I'm sorry to have kept you hanging all that time. This novel is for you, all you wonderful, super smart, fantastic readers. I will offer special thanks here to a few whose inspiration kept me going and whose advice was crucial to the novel's development. Spudz, Coyote Surprise, Kawauso, Golden Fox--thank you for everything, truly :) Also, to said readers, check the tags--content warnings are here for the relevant sex scene. Skip it if you're so inclined._

Released under the Creative Commons BY-NC-SA license. Share, modify, and redistribute -- as long as it's attributed and noncommercial, anything goes.

The Road to Mandalay, by Rob Baird -- Chapter 9, "Before the Gardens"

(Also, check out the infodump here if you want a map, a review of the plot, and a catchup on the characters and setting!)

---

The first thing I saw appeared at first to be muddy haze, with a jagged hole torn in it. It resolved into a bit of peeling paint on a wall, as my vision cleared. I tried to raise my paw to rub my eyes, and found that I could not. They were bound.

The sound of the metal chains caught the attention of someone else in the room. "Oh," she said. "You're awake. Finally."

The voice belonged to Rescat Carregan. If I turned -- my restraints did not give me much room to do so -- I could make out a desk, and the chair she occupied. She stood, turned it around to face me, and sat down again, waiting for me to speak. I did not.

"Shall I explain what happened? Do you have questions?"

"I'm not going to talk."

"Oh, I think you will." The most startling thing, I found, was that she probably had not intended her brief grin to seem quite as sinister as it did. "You're in Jaikot, as it happens. Welcome back, Jon."

Although I did not prompt her, she went on to say that I had been shot, which explained why I did not remember anything about the circumstances that had brought me into the room. She caught me glancing down at my body -- I was perplexingly naked, black and white fur on full display -- and the grin flashed again.

"You're better now. It's been two days, and... well. It turns out I'm getting better at that particular charm. You can thank me later."

"My companion... is she alright?"

"Your servant girl? Escaped. I thought it would be better if someone did, so your friends knew that you'd been taken prisoner. Do you know, though -- your concern sounded almost genuine."

"It was."

The vixen nodded. "I suppose I believe you. I didn't believe you when you weren't going to talk, though, and look: here you are, talking. That's good Jon; we need to have a discussion."

"Do we? I'm not certain I agree."

"You've been causing quite a bit of trouble. The caravan merchants aren't happy -- I know, Jon; you're about to tell me that it was your goal to make them unhappy. I can't entirely blame you, but... there are consequences to their unhappiness. The longer this goes on, the closer we come to outright civil war."

"Perhaps you should've thought of that before you decided to start it." And I found it a little strange that, acknowledging it was my intent to provoke the merchants, Rescat seemed to think that open conflict was a meaningful threat. "The good fortunes of seditious conspirators aren't really my concern."

"But a civil war would be. Let me be honest, Jon. We know the same thing. If the small towns rise up, I don't have the manpower to put them down on my own. You don't have the ability to evict me from Jaikot, even if you were still out on the field. All you have is the power to cause trouble. All I have is the power to keep the militias in check, and if they don't fire the first shot, I can't stop them."

"You and your Iron Corps can't keep Reth bloody Kanda in line?"

"Rockets don't do much against centuries of ingrained tradition. They kill men, not ideas; their castes are a powerful idea. I'm coming to think they want this, but you don't. And I don't. In that sense, Jon, we're not strictly speaking enemies. You understand, right?"

"We're not friends, either. You have me chained to a bed, naked."

"Your uniform was disgusting. Actually... actually, all of you was filthy. It wasn't pleasant to work on you, trust me. But I did, and you're my prisoner -- that explains the chains -- and you're going to do what I say. You're telling your men to back off."

"No."

"They lay down their arms or they die, Jon. Those are their choices."

She could've offered that choice without me, though. Holding me hostage didn't give the vixen as much bargaining power as she thought, in that regard. The RFC existed before me; it would exist without me, too.

But then, she's smart enough to realize that, surely. She doesn't think they'd hold off attacking Jaikot to spare me -- she can't believe we were planning on attacking the city in the first place. Indeed, she'd said as much. What was she really after?

"I don't think so."

"Don't you, then?"

Rather than turning to her, and giving her the satisfaction of watching me struggle against the restraints, I spoke directly to the ceiling. "After the Battle of Gur Valley, you and your allies figured you were done with the RFC. You had the province. But you didn't. With the Prince Adan gone, and the raids on the caravans, they're getting restless."

"Sure."

"You might win -- you'd probably win, in the long run -- against us. But it would be costly, and since you can't trust the natives, the cost would fall on your mercenaries. I'm betting that at the moment you can't reinforce them. You're worried that if you have to fight, you won't have enough of them left to keep Reth Kanda in check."

Rescat stood, and dragged her chair next to my bed. When she sat down again, she leaned forward so that she filled my vision. "Brilliant, Jon," she drawled. "Though your skilled tactical assessment neglects two things. To begin with, nothing means that I have to give one god-damned thought to your northern friends. I could just as easily let the shekhs fight it out and pick up the remains. I can play a long game. They can put every lowborn villager to the sword if they want."

"Yes, and you gamble that they wouldn't turn on you. And that there would be any remains left."

"Of course." Her lip was ever-so-slightly raised. I was, I realized, finally getting to her. "That leads to the other thing. I have you prisoner. You know the RFC's plans and its disposition. Without the element of surprise, you don't amount to much."

Her fangs remained subtly bared. I was so heartened by that that I pressed my luck. "That's an empty threat, too, Rescat. You can't get that information out of me."

"Don't tempt me, Jon. I have ways."

"You don't. What could you do? The worst case scenario for me is that you kill me, which doesn't give you anything. You could threaten reprisals against the civilians, but we both know where that would end. And if you torture me, you have no way to trust a damned thing I say."

"I don't believe in torture." It was a slightly odd reply; it didn't contradict anything I'd said. "I merely said that I have my ways."

"Somehow, I don't really believe you."

She rested her paw on my shoulder. I opened my mouth to say something -- then gasped, instead, as my vision flashed white and pain shot through my temple.

"Hm," I heard the vixen say.

I still couldn't see properly. The headache was just starting to recede. "I thought you said you didn't believe in torture."

"I don't." She took her paw back, and slowly wriggled her fingers. "I must be out of practice."

"What do you mean, 'out of practice'?" No answer. "That was some kind of... magic thing, wasn't it? What were you doing?"

"Shut up, Jon. We'll try again. The strength and disposition of your army. Out with it."

"What -- no." The pain had mostly ebbed, but I'd been left discombobulated and trying to process what had occurred. Rescat seemed thoughtful, watching me with a canted head.

"Then we'll find something else to do with you."

"What... something else?"

"Pain obviously didn't work. Perhaps if you were more talkative, we could find some sort of appropriate reward in the other direction."

"The other..."

I stopped. Rescat put a finger on my chest, and ran it down my thick white fur towards my belly. "Mm? Why not? Strength and disposition, Jon." She came to rest at my waist.

"This is not... this isn't persuasive."

The vixen's eyes narrowed. She slid her paw the rest of the way down, lightly cupping my exposed crotch. "Is it not? Don't you want this?"

"Not from you, no."

Rescat gave me a little grope, and her thumb traced the soft fur of my sheath. "Really. So if I continued to do this..."

She made good on the threat, and despite my best efforts the warmth and pressure of her slowly stroking thumb began to have an effect. "No," I managed.

Between her unsettling grin and the way she kept going, the vixen clearly trusted what I said less than she trusted the building resistance her touch found. Both were making me progressively less comfortable.

Her fingers smoothed my sheath down, always stopping in their movements just before they touched bare flesh. And there was more and more bare flesh with every second that passed. "If you really don't, you know, there's an easy way out. Strength and disposition."

"N-no."

The vixen's paw folded about me, squeezing before she started to pump me slowly. "The number of your forces. Their equipment. Do you have carriages for the cannon at Fort Shandur?"

"Rescat..."

"A simple question, then. What's their caliber?" She locked eyes on mine. When I didn't answer she held the gaze, and despite its distraction I felt every oversensitive nerve as her fingers lightly traced my erection, all the way up to the tip. "I thought so. You did want to bait me into continuing."

"I didn't. I don't."

"Am I really supposed to believe that?" Pointedly, she turned away to look at my crotch, where her teasing had drawn my shaft to full attention. "Certain evidence points to the contrary. Quite a lot of evidence, now that I have the chance to observe it..."

I clenched my teeth, although nothing I could do would hide my arousal. Nothing really lessened the pleasure, either, as she went back to sliding her warm, soft-furred fingers up and down its length. She added more pressure as I throbbed and pulsed against her paw.

The vixen's head was turned away, staring at my cock, so I couldn't see her expression. Her voice, though, dripped with condescension. "Speaking of caliber, Jon. That mountain girl you have must be quite happy." I growled. Hearing it, she squeezed firmly, and the growl faltered before I could stop myself. "I'll take that as a 'yes'."

"This isn't necessary."

She looked at me again, her eyes openly mocking. "It is. You'll be useful to me one way or the other."

"This isn't useful, either," I hissed.

Rescat stood, and let me go. Before I got too close to thinking she might return to merely insulting me, I saw her fingers go to her hips. She pulled open her belt, and unbuttoned the neatly pressed grey trousers of her uniform. And then she let them fall.

She'd unlaced her boots while she was sitting. I heard them thump to the floor as she stepped free of her pants, one black-furred leg at a time. Just as smoothly, she slipped off her thin undergarments, too.

Had she not been so overbearing, had she not been my sworn enemy, it would've been easy to find the vixen attractive. The uniform hid it well, probably deliberately, but she had a practiced grace and the straight-boned, flawless-pelted body that spoke to good breeding. None of that mattered, and I wanted to notice none of it.

But I had to. She played with the chains that bound me to the bed, teasing them, making sure I knew full well how trapped I was. Satisfied, she put her knee next to my side, pivoted the rest of her body up, and straddled me.

Her thick tail swayed, and her muzzle curled into a grin fully aware of its owner's superior position. "Strength, Jon." Her hips lowered a few inches, pushing my shaft up and through the fur of her inner thigh. "Disposition." With exquisite skill she shifted position, putting me right against slick heat, smoother and softer even than the vixen's fur. There wasn't nearly enough give in the mattress to let me escape. "At least tell me to go fuck myself, for irony's sake."

I glared.

Rather, I made the mistake of glaring. She dropped firmly downwards, and as moist, velvet warmth enveloped me the look broke, and my eyes slid shut, and I heard her chuckle shakily. "Be that way, Jon."

She rolled her hips gently against my crotch. With my eyes closed, there was nothing to distract me from the feeling of my cock sliding smoothly against her walls -- how snugly she held me, and the sense of slight resistance when she lifted away and my length pulled jerkily free.

With my eyes open, though, I was confronted with her look of rather predatory glee. And seeing that, Rescat leaned forward. One paw gripped the bed next to my head, one pinned me by my shoulder, and her muzzle dipped within inches of mine. "Ready to talk, Jon?" She emphasized the question in a rough grind that pressed me deeply into her; the firm contact of fur on fur almost as electric as the shock of my tip nudging provocatively into her folds.

I didn't talk; tried not to make any sound at all. Still, as she rode me firmly, pumping her hips on my helplessly stiff erection, my breathing became shaky and tense. I could see the pleasure flickering through her glinting eyes. And... fuck, but it did feel good. Much as I hated it -- hated her -- nothing changed the feeling of being shoved hilt-deep in the vixen, and the tantalizing friction as she plunged herself full of my cock and its thickness spread her about me.

Her pace increased, and so did the light in her keen eyes. Everything, everywhere was the inescapable evidence of what she was doing. She was panting now, her breath washing over my muzzle and ruffling my fur. Next to my ear I heard her claws dragging tensely against the bedsheets, and more distantly, when our bodies met, a telling squelch from the growing wetness as the involuntary spurts of my precum joined her taunting arousal.

From the beginning Rescat had been smoothly, deliberately taking all of me, but her strokes shortened when my shaft began to swell and thicken. She contented herself with just barely letting it push against her lips, teasing her clit with the pressure of the knot's solid bulk. Even as her tempo built every downward shove of her hips ended with a rocking grind against the taut flesh, and every time she did it her pleased, panting huff grew shorter and higher-pitched.

For half a minute she went faster still, driving herself onto me in a rhythm that started to go tellingly erratic. The panting turned into husky, gasping barks, and finally open moans, hoarse and ragged. Her trembling hips rose and fell in desperate, needy swiftness -- then she locked up, half my length still sunk into her. Her grasp on it tightened, clenching down on me, and I saw her concentration finally, briefly slip.

Not that I could've done anything about it. I watched her shudder and groan through her peak with no sense of caution -- the kind of abandon the vixen could enjoy specifically because she had me trapped. I was not imagining it, I decided, for as her sense of self-control reasserted itself her eyes narrowed again, and her muzzle turned in a breathless smirk. "Yes, Jon?" she asked.

I kept my silence.

Her head tilted, and she settled down unsteadily, taking the rest of my cock with a deep, heady sigh. "Mm-hm. What do you say, Jon? Do you want to tie with me? I think you've earned it."

"No." It sounded firm, at least -- more sure of myself than I'd feared I might be able to muster.

Rescat pushed against me, rolling her hips in a slow circle that forced my knot deeper, stretching her out wider and wider. The grinding came with a messy squish that grew softer as she took more of me, and her warmth spread against that lewd, glistening bulge. "Certain?"

I bared my teeth in a voiceless snarl.

The vixen paused, bit her lip, then bore down on me with the whole of her weight. There was a half-second of resistance, of strain, and then a thump as her knees dropped back to the mattress and I sank all the way in. Warmth engulfed me, clasping firmly at every swell and curve of my cock. I let out a grunt, and Rescat answered it with a curt laugh. "Liar."

This wasn't accurate, and I didn't know if she actually meant it or just wanted to savor that moment. The latter, probably. She shifted her hips in a series of gentle, hitching thrusts that drove home forcefully the wet, squeezing warmth surrounding me. It flooded my brain with the knowledge that I was knotted to her, buried to the hilt in insistent, forceful heat. I tried to fight off the rising pleasure throbbing in me, acutely aware with every heartbeat of the soft pressure clasping the base of my knot, stimulating the overpowering drive that tensed my muscles and drew my sack up taut.

She could feel me struggling to hold out. She squirmed, and tightened herself around me, coaxing me to flood her cunt like any other bitch, and as the throbbing rose to the point of irresistibility she grinned. "There you go, Jon. Give in," she whispered. "Be a good. Dog. Fill me. You want to..."

I choked out a meaningless denial even as my hips pushed up and I felt the heat of release surge through me. Snarling, thrusting reflexively, instinct twisted my resistance into the bucking urges of white-hot pleasure that came with every spurt of cum that splashed inside her. "Fuck!" I forced a cursing, bitter oath through the snarl.

But no sooner had I gotten it out than I groaned again in the raw, intense bliss of pumping the vixen full of my seed. "That's it," she cooed, riding my jerking, thrashing orgasm beneath her. "There's my good dog." She repeated it a few times, like I could've protested, like I wasn't overcome by the heady rush of emptying myself deep in her just like she suggested.

I stayed shuddering, grunting for a good few seconds after the last few pulses finished, and by then of course it was too late. She sat up in my lap, watching my uneven recovery. And when I had recovered enough, I tried to find my voice. "You bitch."

She laughed.

It occurred to me that she'd left her shirt on through the entire affair. Something about that made it clear just how purposeful, how businesslike it had all been. "What... what the fuck was that?"

"You didn't enjoy it? You seemed to enjoy it, Jon. You gave every indication of enjoying it. Or... well, certain indications, at least. And you even behaved yourself."

"You didn't really give me a choice," I growled.

Rescat shrugged, and idly straightened her shirt. "You men have fairly simple motivations. I figured it would all work out -- and it did. Nothing else seemed productive. This was, in the... strictly literal sense. I think there might be a bit of a mess. Ah, well."

"That's all you have to say? A bit of a mess?"

Her eyes narrowed, contemptuous and cold. "I don't know for certain. We have to wait. Don't we? I should've figured it would be a bit... awkward. Fine, Jon."

"Fine?"

She put her right paw squarely in the middle of my chest. I felt a chill radiating from it; a curious fog settling down on my thoughts. Her hips wriggled, testing our tie. A few seconds later, and with the chill deepening, she tried again.

This time she slid herself off me easily, helped no doubt by the generous gush that dripped from her, down her legs and into my own fur. I mumbled. "Did you just... how did..."

"A simple biological function. Shouldn't be any lasting damage. God knows, I didn't feel like putting up with you sulking for twenty minutes. I've got things to attend to."

She patted herself mostly dry with the bedsheet, pulled on her clothes, and went back to her desk. I craned my head, and could just barely make out what she was doing: she had a book open, and was writing quickly in it.

Confusion had joined my anger at the vixen; I wasn't sure what she'd done to me, and I wasn't sure why she no longer cared about it one way or the other. And I didn't like the sense that the confusion, itself, had been her doing.

"That's... it? You're just going to... go back to whatever you were doing?"

She nodded. "I already got what I wanted."

"You didn't want that. Not any more than I did."

"I know. That was just a means to an end."

"What?"

"A means to an end, Jon. Not my immediate goal."

The more my head cleared, the less I liked the thoughts filtering into it. "You mean..."

Rescat paused in her writing, looking at me over her shoulder. "Yes?"

"You needed... that? From me? You needed it for some kind of -- some of that fucking magic... Some spell of yours."

"Oh, Jon." She turned further, sitting sideways in the chair. "I wanted your seed so that I could put a charm on you, and take ownership of that lovely, well-greased machine you call a mind, is that what you're trying to say?"

"Yes."

"Don't flatter yourself, Jon." She turned back to the desk and her notebook. "You get distracted when you climax, that's all. It makes it more difficult for you to concentrate."

"You looked inside my mind?"

"How else did I know it was lovely and well-greased? I'll admit that I did have to amend my opinion of you. At first I took you as just another corrupt nobleman -- I've seen plenty of the type. The relationship you have with that servant of yours didn't do much to change that. If only I'd known how you really felt..."

"Not that it's any of your business."

"Perhaps not. I am impressed by what you've accomplished with those mountain folk. Reth Kanda thinks they're all barbarians, scarcely able to hold a conversation. I'd say the number you've done on the caravans says otherwise, doesn't it?"

I held my tongue. How much does she really know? I wasn't 'distracted' for all that long. Surely even as smart as she is...

The vixen half-turned her muzzle, so that she could glance at me from the corner of her eye. "I asked you a question, Jon."

"They're... competent soldiers," I said. "And knowledge of the terrain. They've lived here for centuries -- before us and before the Bhirans."

"Up in those mountains, yes. Living in tents and preying off the rest of us. But I imagine it wasn't always like that. Maybe they were chased out of the lowlands... I wonder about that."

"Some of them are more settled, yes."

Rescat chuckled, shaking her head and resuming her writing. "If it counts as settlement. We'll have to see."

"The way you 'saw' about the Shrouded Rocks?" Even with as little as he'd said, I couldn't forget the horrors that Sergeant-Major Bealde had described, in the Railroad's campaigns against those luckless natives. "You'll make them slaves, too?"

"Your great problem, you know, is that you only think things halfway through. You know of the northern islands, and you felt compelled to open your muzzle. I wasn't responsible for that campaign, nor its atrocities, nor Shanyl's distasteful use of slave labor. He says it was better than throwing them into the sea. I'm not sure I agree."

"But you have your own slaves. The jackals."

"I told you, Jon; they swore a debt to me. All I've done is assisted them in repaying that debt. You don't see me threatening to skin their families, now, do you? That sort of thing is rarely effective, but Shanyl lacks imagination -- and imagination is one of those things you can't really teach, unfortunately."

"It apparently worked for him well enough."

The vixen paused. The thick brush of her tail made one long, swaying arc. She set her notebook aside, and pulled out another one; then she turned, and twisted the chair ninety degrees to settle crosswise on it and face me directly. "Answer a question, Jon, will you?"

"Don't you have ways of getting it out of me?"

"Yes. But I'm not going to fuck you again -- the sheets are mussed enough as it is. Tell me, speaking of imagination. When you attacked the Prince Adan, how did you deal with the sentries? They should've seen you coming from miles away."

"Excuse me?"

Rescat had her journal open, and she used her open paw to gesture at a half-filled page. "For my memoirs. Indulge me, Jon. I'd enchanted some bits of ribbon and ordered the captain to place them along the lakeside track, and on the water's surface -- they should've told the sentries that you were coming."

The worst part of it was an utter lack of any deception in the vixen's curiosity. She wasn't trying to get any secret out of me, and the casualness made the fact of my captivity even worse. "I'm not going to help you write your memoirs."

"It was a brilliant attack, Jon. I just want to know how you did it. The mountain folk don't use magic -- they can't have been sensitive to my traps. Will you at least tell me if you knew they were there?"

"I didn't."

"But the only way is..." Rescat stopped, and an unsettling grin slowly began to spread. "I see how this happened. You had the same conversation that I did. You asked 'how can the lock be attacked?' and your advisor told you that the other approach was from the bridge and from the mountain track. I think you're too smart to have entertained the notion of using a boat... right, Jon?"

"I'm not going to answer that. I'm not here for your amusement, Rescat."

The grin became a smirk, for a second, and her expression filled with scorn. "Of course you are. But this isn't amusing -- it's interesting. Your native commander told you the paths were too steep to travel, and you said 'Carregan's smart. She'll guard them anyway.' And you found another way, thanks to those mountain folk. Ropes, I suspect. You came down the cliffs. Nobody was watching those."

I remained silent and, while she jotted her thoughts down in her notebook, she didn't press me further. She wrote purposefully, with neat handwriting; she flipped to an earlier page, and I saw a map that she must've drawn herself.

"I didn't believe them when they said the cliffs were impossible, but I didn't have time to check for myself. We assumed you'd be renting some mercenaries to sneak down the path -- which I had mined -- or putting cannon on the far side of the bridge. Just goes to show you, mm? You want something done right, you have to do it yourself. You should be proud of that operation, Jon. Are you?"

This time, the unearned mirth in her eyes was too much for me. "I am proud that I put you and your fucking Railroad in its place, yes. I'm proud that three different races came together to stand up to you bastards."

"Yes." Her airy, dismissive acknowledgment signified an end to the conversation. "Well, we'll see about that. I suppose I'm done with you for now." She snapped her book shut, and left the room.

A minute later she returned, followed by a hulking, silent bear of a guard. He dropped a sack over my head, and I found myself being guided for some period of time in the darkness that followed.

The sack didn't come off until the rest of the world was dark, anyway. I found myself in a cell, the location of which I didn't recognize -- there weren't any cells in the colonial administration building, at least.

I found a tunic and ill-fitting pants waiting for me in the corner. It was better than nothing. Nothing described the remainder of the cell. It had a heavy wooden door, a slat for a bed, and no windows or anything else to break the stone of its walls.

I didn't know how much time had passed. The door opened partway, and someone forced a tray of food through the gap. Did that make it dinner time? Was it the evening, already? I didn't know. I didn't remember what time it was when I awoke. Confinement did not make this task any easier.

It did, however, leave me completely free to remember all the things I disliked about shishi cuisine. I pushed the bowl of rice and lentils aside, and slumped against the wall to wait once more.

Half an hour passed, and I heard the sound of the lock being turned a second time. There was no point in looking at the silhouette, framed by flickering candlelight, and so I didn't bother. "Take the bloody food away, at least," I muttered.

"Is that all?"

I blinked. This time I did look, but the light was far too dim to make anything out. "Raiza?"

Raiza slipped through the door, and let it fall almost closed behind him. "I heard you were a guest in our city, kajja Jonham. I thought I might wish to pay a visit, to confirm with my own eyes."

"You heard correctly. Your new best friend has decided I would do better here than out in the wild."

"Perhaps she is not incorrect. The situation 'in the wild,' as you put it, kajja, is quite different than the one you left. Though I suppose you would know -- it is the one you caused, too."

"How bad is it? I've had some word, but seen nothing first-hand."

"The south is in more or less open revolt, and afire with it. Outside the major cities, the government has lost control completely. A whole squadron of troopships arrived three days ago in Surowa from your homeland... but they are compelled to stay in Surowa, for without them, the city, too, would be lost."

"Cargal'th. The river?"

"The loss of trade through the Ajirandigarh has sapped the ability of the trade shekhs to bribe compliance. The last news I heard in Jaikot was of a Reth convoy being ambushed by farmers in Sura. Taking after your measures, it seems."

He went on, a litany of one chaotic scene after the other. Jaikot continued to be held by the Railroad, but they'd been compelled to abandon the outlying towns. Whatever law prevailed there had been imposed by the local authorities -- or worse.

"I don't think the alternative was going to be any better, Raiza," I told my old assistant.

"I didn't say otherwise, kajja. Certainly it was not your desire. I'm sure you would have been content enough to remain with your alat and the troubling bureaucracy at the governor's office. But it was not to be."

"No. What now?"

"Now?" The mongoose stepped closer, bending down to look at me. "You're not chained, at least. The lock on the door is all that's keeping you."

"Is it? I could walk out, then -- is that what you're saying?"

"With sufficient knowledge of the area, yes."

"You could serve as a guide."

His shadow nodded. "Yes. But I must impose a certain condition."

"Which is?"

"When they discover you missing, they will exact reprisals. I fear those reprisals will be directed at my head, and... I would prefer to keep it. If I could come with you..."

"Done."

Raiza straightened, and went back to the door. He leaned out, looking first one way and then the other. "The way's clear. We should be going."

"'Clear'? But the guards..."

"There are some positives to a loss of control, kajja. The government is no longer credible. It makes certain bureaucratic functions difficult, to be sure... but it also means that a gold coin in the right pocket goes much further."

"And you had enough of those, hidden away from our time together..."

"Yes. Not as much remains now as when you were in office. I've had much to do." He pushed another door open, leaned through, and nodded to confirm that the way was clear. "Paying your soldiers hasn't come cheap, for example."

"Soldiers?"

"The RFC, and the tribe of mountain folk you enlisted. Nobody here knows of that last one, and I think it's better that way. Otherwise they'd have many unfortunate questions about why you chose to employ highwaymen. For my part, I'm sure you had your reasons."

I grinned. "I've missed you, Raiza Serapuri," I told the mongoose -- far more genuinely than I'd ever expected to hear myself saying. "You and your wit."

"Mm. Wit alone won't quite get us out of here. Wit and bribery; I think that's what you meant." He glanced around one last time, and guided me to a carriage.

I thought I recognized the driver. The otter certainly recognized me, although it was only with a smile and a subtle nod. "Is that..."

"Our assistant, Mazareenhalaya Nurun? Yes, kajja. The governor's office didn't have much need for him, but I felt his services might be useful. And loyalty is usefully rewarded."

"You always were better at this game than I was, Mr. Raiza."

"Maybe. I would not have gone to the arai -- the mountains -- and certainly not to the araimuri."

"Ya qataitais esha tavik," I said. "Nakhti daur adyaha yet habighu."

The mongoose gave me one of those smirks of his that, too, I realized I'd dearly missed. "I'm not certain of your pronunciation. I... mikh binajja bayekat."

"Mej, I believe. Mej binajja bayekat."

The smirk widened. He missed me, too, I thought. "I'm not certain of your pronunciation there, either, but I am certain that in four weeks in the mountains you learned more of their language than you ever learned of ours, kajja."

"Maybe you should've threatened to kill me more often. It's a good motivator. The proverb means... lowlanders become confused. It's only from the mountains that you can see clearly."

"Do you see clearly, kajja?"

"Clearly? I don't know. But more than I did, yes."

Raiza Serapuri lifted the carriage curtain, looking at the darkened streets of Jaikot passing us by. "Good. I have things to tell you. Important things. Some other things... they are less important, but you may want to hear them less."

"You can tell me. Raiza, I... I would've taken you with us in a heartbeat, if I could -- and your safety was one of my primary concerns, when I was at Shandur."

"I know. Kajjana Rescat made that clear. She found it amusing. I've worked closely with her since you were gone. That is... that is a concern. I do not feel guilty about betraying her trust, kajja Jonham. But her administration was not entirely flawed."

"It doesn't surprise me."

The mongoose laughed, softly, and took some time to compose his words. "In Jaikot, in Dhamishaya, we're used to politics. I never thought anything of demanding a bribe from disfavored shekhi. Rescat banned amra in our office. Partly, I believe it was to keep me from funneling any money to your cause. Partly..."

"She's an odd person," I allowed, careful with my own description. "I despise her, and everything she stands for. We don't truly speak a common language."

"Jaikot was better when you were running it, kajja. It is slightly worse now. But with neither of you, it will be utter catastrophe. Reth Kanda..."

"He is also in charge?"

"The civilian administrator. I reported to him, officially, though kajjana Rescat knew -- as I think you would not -- how to shield me from him to perform my actual duties. Kajja, what will become of the city? What would you do, if you could take it back by force?"

What would I do? Suddenly I became aware that I had no answer. I'd assumed that it could all go back to normal -- alat and amra and the bureaucracy, as Raiza Serapuri had put it. Clearly, though, that was wishful thinking.

It would've been wishful thinking even without the rebellion in the south, but with no effective government in Surowa we'd be on our own. I'd thought Rescat Carregan's Iron Corps to be a credible military threat. But if that wasn't enough, then the few hundred men of the RFC and its auxiliaries...

"Martial law. To restore order, and to prevent the reprisals that I'm sure would be coming otherwise. You're hinting that shekh Reth has not exactly endeared themselves to the populace."

"The convoy in Sura was massacred, kajja. Reth Kanda responded in Jaikot by rounding up fifty men of the families he blamed for the attack. I was only able to free thirty-eight. Bribery has limits when it reaches that sort of hatred."

"Carregan knew?"

"That is another problem, kajja. For all her many flaws, she understands how precarious the city is right now. When you retake it, you must be extremely careful. Jaikot could be lost as so many other towns have..."

The carriage came to a halt; heavy-booted footsteps approached, and I heard the growl of a town guardsman interrogating our driver. I couldn't understand the conversation. Raiza, though, listened intently. I saw his expression turn, for a moment; then a whispered laugh hissed through his nose.

The door opened and we saw the guard, a muscular dog who looked like a more well-kept Akal Shanwir. He pointed at me. "Iron?" he asked.

"Yes," Raiza Serapuri answered, in my tongue. "He is."

"They stop traffic from in city to out city," the guard said. "Prisoner escaped."

"Prisoner?" I asked. There wasn't much point in being difficult; if he wanted to kill us we were as good as dead.

"Governor. Former governor. Jannam of Iron Land."

"I used to work with him," Raiza Serapuri said. "Before."

"Jannam... dog. Like this one. They say... if he escape... bad for us. For us guard."

Raiza Serapuri nodded his gentle, smooth understanding. "I heard that. But rumors, too. The rumors say he would return at the head of an army to take the city back and put the rebels to flight."

"Strange rumor," the guard muttered. "Jannam... Jannam dog like this one," he repeated, gesturing to me again. "Bad for us."

"Many things have been bad for the town guard," I spoke up. "As long as we're talking rumors, I heard the guard has been asked to round up lots of people -- not just governor-looking dogs like me."

"Yes..."

"If this would be bad for you... perhaps it's time you found a different occupation."

The guard shuffled, looking from me to Raiza. "Not easy, that..."

Raiza nodded again. "If he were around, the governor could authorize an advance on your pension -- to ease the pain of looking for new work."

"The governor would indeed authorize that."

The mongoose lifted the cushion of the seat next to him, and precisely counted out a stack of coins. "This would be a year's pension," he said to me, and then held them towards the guard.

With one final shuffle, the dog finally gave in. He took the coins. And he removed the badge of the Jaikot militia from his chest, handing it to Raiza in exchange. "Perhaps.... perhaps maybe..."

He was looking right at me. "Yes?"

"Perhaps when you come back, you remember me? This..."

"I'll remember," I promised him. "Akalaya?"

"Akal Vayut," he confirmed. "Do... do not take so long, kajja."

When he stepped away, the carriage took off at full flight, heedless of the broken road. Jaikot fell away behind us, and after an hour of travel Raiza explained where we were going.

"In open country, it'll be difficult to pursue us. I've made contact with one of your militia; they should find us at Idaya, a few leagues from here, south of Ka Yanir. If all is well."

"Away from the river," I noted.

"Yes, and the Railroad. Kajja, you should know something else. Why I freed you -- maybe why I was able to free you... maybe they think it doesn't matter now."

"What?"

"Reports from Jaichur City. The Railroad is assembling a new... iron convoy. 'Train,' yes? I was not to find out about it."

He knew of the train itself through normal documents, he explained, but its cargo was declared to be of iron beams and bridging materials. Only through his network of spies had he learned of supplies of powder, and the mustering of men in garrisons along the river.

They were planning an attack. "I asked kajjana Rescat about the iron, and she was surprised I'd heard of the train. I acted as though its discovery alone was a coup to me -- because I wanted to levy the proper tolls on the iron cargo."

"She doesn't know that you know the truth, you mean?"

He shook his head. "But it's why I had to escape. And... why I could not tell you until I knew we were safe, kajja. She would... if they subjected me to the... to what they have done to others, I would've broken."

Idaya was a "town" by loose definition: a few houses and an alehouse, where we left the carriage. Three men of the RFC were waiting; they were disguised, and out of uniform, but by that point I recognized their faces, and they recognized mine.

We took to their waiting horses -- Raiza and the carriage-driver, who could not ride, went with the dragoons -- and took off for the hills. By sun-up we were back in friendly territory, at a hidden camp two leagues from the nearest town.

Razi was at my side the moment I got down from my horse. "Kajja. We feared the worst -- when we heard that you might be able to escape, I wanted to go, but -- well, they wanted to be disguised and..."

"It's fine, it's fine." I returned the hug she gave me. "It's good to see you, too, Razi."

She smiled, and hugged me again before finally getting herself under control. "And kajja Raiza, I see. You're in good health, kajja."

"Better health than many in the city, Kajrazi, yes. I still have my head."

I left them to their catching-up, and went to find the senior officer at the camp -- Captain Pashai, as it happened. "I need to speak with Major Atta-Farash immediately. Send for Shandur at once."

"Fortunately, he's close. They were planning on a rescue operation. Has something happened?"

I spent the two hours that it took for the major and his men to arrive pacing, and working out a plan in my head. As soon as the senior staff had gathered, I spread out a map and explained what Raiza had told me.

"We can't let them get as far as the railhead -- it'll be impervious then. That should be obvious. The terrain's not ideal for an ambush where the railhead is, either."

"No," Atta-Farash agreed. He spoke slowly, digesting the news; he also seemed to understand that I already had something in mind. "Your suggestion would be?"

"We'll attack here, instead." I pointed to the map, at the town of Sara-Kaya, a few miles north of where the Edira River joined the Ajirandigarh.

It was also well to the south of Jaikot, which Sergeant-Major Bealde pointed out immediately. "Be dangerous to move, there. Why don't we hit it further north?"

A southern attack had been the original plan I'd agreed to with Colonel Coltharden, back when the original RFC was still intact. The railroad itself wasn't yet finished north of the city; with the Iron Corps and their auxiliaries compelled to defend the province against our attacks, they'd been slow to advance the railhead. That meant that, north of Jaikot, the train was likely to be highly protected and moving slowly enough to draw reinforcements in immediately.

To the south, I hoped, they'd be more incautious. Sara-Kaya, barely three thousand people, was also an important caravan stop because of its convenient location; as a stronghold of shekh Reth, it wasn't nearly as restive as other towns.

"Besides which, it sends an important message: they're not safe. Out on the frontier, they can make excuses. If they lose a train deep in Nishran, though, they'll have to redeploy their men again."

Raiza Serapuri listened to what I'd said, nodded slowly, and added a somewhat darker perspective. "They're just barely maintaining control as it is. As kajja Jonham says, Sara-Kaya is supposed to be safe for them."

"And we can approach easily enough. From Pad Kaliri to the highlands west of Undruyal, then south through the farming towns. We won't encounter anyone capable of warning the Railroad we're coming until less than a league from Sara-Kaya, and by then it'll be too late."

Raiza laughed, not at the suggestion but at the understanding of Dhamishi geography I had picked up during what had amounted to weeks of intensive training. But he agreed with my conclusions, and added that we could trust the towns along the way to be discreet.

The attack itself, then, could be very simple. One explosive charge to break the iron rails and force the train from its tracks; a second, larger one that would hopefully be enough to demolish the actual train. We had sufficient powder for that.

What we lacked was men; we had about a hundred and twenty, in total, and no time to send for reinforcements. Given the element of surprise, and the skill of the bayeh sharpshooters, I hoped the odds would be even. A lot would be riding on that hope.

More than just men, I wanted horses. Between the Native Ranger Auxiliary and the remainder of the old RFC we had barely three dozen men capable of fighting from horseback. "Perhaps Captain Abqi can command them?" Razi suggested. "Their clan has some experience."

"Perhaps."

"Do you not wish me to talk you out of this, kajja?" she asked.

"He doesn't," Locke said. They'd both recognized it.

And so I gave up. "No. Very well. I'll take command of the cavalry. We'll split them between Captain Abqi and Captain Sinla. Major Atta-Farash will stay here with the dragoons and the riflemen. You'll help him, Locke."

"Yes, sir."

"I suppose I will, too?" Razi asked, and I nodded. "I didn't ask, kajja. Since your rescue you have been... agitated. I take it you learned something in Jaikot?"

"'Agitated' is one way to put it, yes."

"This is... a risky operation, I think. You think so as well. But you do not want to wait."

"I don't. We've waited too bloody long as it is, Razi. It's time we exacted some payback."

Razi listened to the heat in my words, and either understood or understood that I was not to be dissuaded. She bowed. "Good luck, kajja," was all she said, and we moved ourselves into position for the coming battle.

I left my horse out of sight behind a hill, with the rest of the cavalry mounted and ready to ride, and crawled forward to observe what was meant to be our battlefield. It looked like any other place in north Dhamishaya: dust, and sparse grass, and sullen desolation. We'd have to make it memorable on our own.

The train announced its arrival several minutes before it actually crossed the horizon, with the thick smoke puffing from its stack. Watching it through my spyglass, I realized I'd never seen one of them in action before. Stout, black, and ugly, I thought.

But fast. Very fast -- it couldn't have been traveling any slower than sixty miles an hour. Have to hope the major is better at maths than I am, to get the timing right...

"Get ready," I called over my shoulder to the two cavalry captains. What about you, Jon? Are you ready? Revenge, I discovered, was a powerful motivator indeed. I squeezed the hilt of my saber, and felt my lip curling in anticipation of its use.

The first explosion was deceptively small -- a little fountain of earth tore skywards and was already collapsing when we heard the sound of it. At about the same time we heard the shriek of metal on metal as the locomotive threw on its brakes.

Too little, too late -- still at forty miles an hour, it hit the split track. Inertia carried it more or less along the rails for another second. Then it started to kick up a spray of dirt as its wheels hit bare ground instead of iron. It pitched, nosed downward, and went over onto its side.

Its cars followed. The first one slammed into the back of the locomotive, crumpling into a wreck of twisted metal. The sacrifice was enough to absorb much of the train's energy -- the second car impacted but flung itself up and over the remains of the first, staying mostly intact, and the rest scattered chaotically as the whole of the train disappeared into the dust thrown up by its destruction.

I was shocked to think that anyone could've survived. But they had -- pulling themselves from the debris and starting to take up defensive positions as Major Atta-Farash opened fire on them.

Hidden in a small swell of the hill, with just my head exposed, I watched, and waited. Sixteen cars; thirty or forty men apiece. Even assuming many of them were incapacitated and many more were dazed, they'd be more than capable of putting up a good fight.

The last two cars had even stayed upright; atop the first of these, they were beginning to man the guns emplaced on its roof: repeaters like the Prince Adan had. Scanning the rest of the train, there were three other cars just like it on their side. I shuddered to think of the carnage a fully operational train could wreak.

This one was not fully operational. No sooner had one gunner taken position than they toppled from the seat awkwardly, felled by a bayeh sniper. Ten seconds later he'd already been replaced and both guns opened up, turning their fire in the rough direction of my riflemen.

Hidden amongst the wreckage, some of the other rebels began adding their own firepower. There was no way for me to know how accurate it was, or how long they could keep it up. I trusted the major's judgment there.

And then I heard the bugle. I scooted back to the far side of the hill, where the men were waiting, and pulled myself quickly into the saddle. "Thirty seconds," I told my captains. We had thirty seconds until the other mines exploded. They weren't, in a bit of ill fortune, close enough to do any further damage to the train, but hoped they'd be good for a bit of distraction and chaos.

"Ready, sir," Captain Sinla told me. Abqi said the same, in her thickly accented Aernian.

I pulled my saber free and tested my grip on the reins. "Prepare to charge." I saw the rising smoke from beyond the hill, and a few seconds later the thunder of the mines going up, and without a second thought I spurred my horse forward. "Charge!"

We came over the crest of the hill as a solid body, only a thousand yards from the train and screened by the debris of the blast. By the time our enemy spotted us it was far too late to do much about it.

Captain Abqi's cavalry swept along the near side of the train, firing at point blank on the rebels, whose long guns were too unwieldy to track the swift bayeh horsemen. I led Sinla and his men to the far side, leaping over the tracks and cutting off anyone foolish enough to retreat or take cover there.

We found plenty. The first whipping swing of my saber met resistance, and a startled yelp as it pulled free -- cut off too-quickly beneath the hooves of the rider behind me. No sooner had I recovered than I saw another grey-uniformed rebel start to make a run for it; he crossed before me, and I lunged for him, and the momentum of horse and blade nearly took his head cleanly off.

I snarled, though he was well beyond caring about that, and looked for who dared present themselves. One of the rebels lifted his weapon, but then froze -- a common if unfortunate mistake with fourteen hundred pounds of horse and rider bearing down on you.

He had no chance to correct it; with the full half-ton of inertia behind the point of my sword I rammed it clean through his chest, rotating smoothly so my momentum pulled the blade back; his rifle flew in a messy arc, and I saw his stricken frame crumple against the train in my peripheral vision.

Then I was past the smoldering locomotive, with all the sounds of the battle behind me and the wind whipping in my ears. I wheeled about, Captain Sinla right behind me, and bared my teeth in search of new prey.

By then the rebels had figured out their situation: pinned down in the smoking wreckage of a train filled with explosives, they could either remain and be burned to death, or run and be cut down. A white flag flashed between two of the wagons.

In the second it took me to recognize it, and to shift from the mindset of pure hunter to commander once more, I'd covered half the distance to the flag. I slowed quickly, lest I run its owner down.

"Hold fire! Hold fire!"

Some of the other cavalry had seen the flag, too, and they all listened, though took a few seconds of dwindling before ending altogether. I tried to readjust my ears from the sound of gunfire to what replaced it: the crackling of flames from the burning railcars, and the cries of the battle's wounded and dying.

I brought my horse to a stop, watching the space between the wagons. When nothing happened, I shouted again. "Oi! Are you surrendering?"

The white flag dropped, replaced by a soldier in the grey uniform of the Iron Corps. The rabbit's shirt was covered in ash and streaked with blood, although she seemed herself to be unhurt. She raised both paws to me, nodding as she approached. "Yes. Y-yes. We're surrendering," she said. "Please."

"Who's in command?"

"I am, now... I think. Captain Morleigh. Major Tasher is dead and Major Garran is missing. I can't find anyone else. So... so..." Clearly rattled, she trailed off and had to shake her head to get her wits back about her. "We surrender. Just... please... let us?"

I nodded, and waved Captain Abqi forward. "Get back to the major and tell him to stand down. And that we'll have prisoners." When Abqi rode off, I dropped from my own saddle to face the rabbit. "How many are you?"

"Left?"

Left, they were around two hundred, though only a few dozen were in fighting shape. Half of them were Iron Corps soldiers; the remainder were Dhamishi auxiliaries and civilians. "Civilians?" I asked. "It was supposed to be a military train."

"A few administrators. And some engineers," Captain Morleigh clarified. "This is an engineering company." And that, along with the civilian passengers, probably explained why they'd been willing to surrender, and why few protested when ordered to give up their weapons.

One of the 'administrators,' dazed, sitting, and with a long cut still bleeding freely beneath his ear, proved to be very familiar, indeed. "Well," I said. "Hello, Mr. Reth."

Reth Kanda looked up at me, and then his head drooped. "I heard you escaped. But they said..."

"What did they say?"

The leopard stared morosely at the ground. "The guards said they saw your carriage fleeing south... running away..."

"Run away?" It was hard to feel much pity -- any pity -- for him. "From Jaikot? It's the provincial capital, Reth Kanda; surely you know that."

"Kajja, I won't... I won't argue. I ask that you understand, however..." He shut his eyes. "My family will pay for my release..."

"I'm sure they will. I learned how amra works, remember? But not now. I hear it's been banned." And I left him to dwell on that, returning to where Major Atta-Farash and Captain Morleigh were having a quiet discussion.

"We need to be moving, sir," the major said, when I was in earshot. "There is a complication. We can't take this many prisoners." Two hundred strong, they even outnumbered us; I nodded. "The mountain folk have suggested certain... remedies."

And I could more than imagine what those were. "We'll not have that. How many can we take?"

"Colonel," Morleigh began softly. "Most of these here can't move. They need medical attention. They're burned, or they've inhaled the smoke, and... some of them... well it won't matter for some of them, but..."

"We can't really provide aid," Major Atta-Farash reminded me, as though I'd needed his help to do so. "And they'll slow us down."

"You can take me," the rabbit offered. "Of course. But the wounded..."

There were many, and we didn't have the time. "Major, tell the bayeh they have a half an hour to take what they can from the train in payment. Nobody's to be harmed -- is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

"Reinforcements must already be on their way. Captain Morleigh, you'll stay and maintain order here. We'll take Reth Kanda with us, though. You'll tell your boss we have him."

"I will, yes."

"He took over as the civilian administrator from me," I told Atta-Farash. "I suspect they'll have to care about that."

Captain Morleigh's brow furrowed a little. "I... doubt that, sir."

"Do you, then?"

"He ordered the reprisals, sir. The train was his idea. I... imagine high command will be happy to be rid of him. Sir."

Somehow it didn't surprise me. I snorted in disgust. "The highborns still won't be happy. He'll be a bargaining chip for them, at least."

An hour later, as we rode from the battlefield to the safety of the western hills, Raiza Serapuri suggested I'd been mistaken even about that. "There is danger, kajja. As I've been saying."

"Why?"

"They've been using their power to settle old accounts, but you can only push people so far until they push back. Depending on how the populace reacts, Reth Kanda might prove to be an acceptable sacrifice to the other shekhi."

I asked the mongoose to explain what 'settling old accounts' amounted to -- fearing the worst and being shocked even at what I'd heard. Shekh-run courts claiming jurisdiction over the smaller towns. Houses sacked. Farms burned.

I'd avoided a scorched-earth strategy only to find one had been applied for me. It raised the stakes even further, I saw, for the longer the aristocratic shekhs went about exacting their revenge, the harder it would be to effect a reconciliation. When I explained that to my old companion, Raiza Serapuri nodded sadly.

The bayeh, at least, were having a good time with what they'd looted. Savu Pashai's teeth glinted with his grin, holding up what looked like an ordinary musket for my inspection. "See, kech?" he asked.

"I don't."

Another firefox at his side had one of the same guns; his grin was even wider. "Akiiyurbl. Ya darusu danim amad, ter parikyur, ter parik."

"Big," Savu Pashai said. "When you shoot it, it makes a big shot, with many little bullets. Goes very wide. It's easy to hit things."

"Parik," the other firefox added.

"Good," Savu translated. "From the east, I think. Maybe Tausrun." He watched me for a few seconds, and then gave a harsh, chuckling laugh at my lack of response. "We take for you, kech. To help you fighting."

Not that I believed it, and since he was mocking me Savu Pashai knew that I didn't believe it. I told myself that we needed the weapons, though, whether I was being teased or not. Whatever we could manage would come in handy. The worst was yet to come.

I dreaded the prospect of fighting in Jaikot, a city I'd abandoned specifically because I knew how disastrous it would be. Yet what choice did we have? I set out my bedroll and lay back on it, gazing blankly at the stars until Razi's shadow blotted them out.

"You're awake, kajja?" she asked.

"I'm awake. Not tired, but... not exactly up for the festivities."

She spread her own bedroll next to mine, and settled down at my side. "The bayeh will tire soon enough. They had a good day. There was a lot of treasure."

"I saw. How about you? Anything good?"

"I did not partake."

"You thought I wouldn't approve?"

Razi rested her head on my side, and patted my chest. "I knew you would not approve, kajja, but I also think that you might be right to feel that way."

"Oh?"

She nodded; her cheek rubbed at me softly. "We can't be like this forever. If you see the bayeh joining Dhamishi society, it cannot be as predators. My father might be disappointed, it is true." The last sentence, which came after a few seconds of reflective silence, seemed to have been added parenthetically.

"Of course, he might be right, too."

I repeated what I'd heard from Raiza, and reminded her of the dispatches from Clan Tejman, trying to keep the peace in the northern farms. And I went further, my thoughts coming to me at the same time I spoke them aloud.

For years, through the tenure of my governorship, I'd derided the old shishi superstitions. Their festivals and their backwards traditions, their warped feudal sensibilities; the rigid stratification of the shekhs. Through it all I'd simply assumed that they were becoming a thing of the past.

And now I saw that decades of Aernian stewardship had done nothing but drive it underground. Our dismissal -- my dismissal -- pushed it out of the open and left it festering, utterly contemptuous of my naïve belief in the intrinsic power of civilization.

Had I known, I could've challenged the Reth and the other highborn families far earlier. I could've seen their power grabs for what they were. I could've seen the struggles of the lower castes for what they were, too. Knowing Vanao Barut and Raiza Serapuri and even Reth Kanda as individuals, I'd deluded myself into thinking that this was all I needed to do.

It wasn't something that could merely be dismissed. It needed to be confronted. But after everything that had happened... "I'm not sure how," I admitted to Razi. Princess Taresh Razi, my brain added, and again I thought, slightly guilty, of everything that had happened between the two of us, too.

"You will," the firefox said.

"I don't know. The town guard has no legitimacy. The colonial government scarcely has any. To take the shekhs on... to bring your people into our fold..."

"That, it's true, they will not appreciate in Jaikot. They will not in Surowa, either, although... it is also true that we've given the lowlanders many reasons to hate us. They've given us many reasons to hate them. It will take time, kajja."

"If that. If it's even possible."

Razi scooted up, shifting from my chest to nose into the fur of my cheek, instead. "With the right person, it is," she said. "I believe, kajja, that it will be you. Even if my father may not like you, he believes it as well -- or he would not have agreed to our alliance."

"I'm just a soldier." My voice was soft -- she alone could hear it -- but my muzzle pointed my confession to the heavens, and the long-dead heroes who kept their home in the stars. "And I've made... many mistakes."

She rolled herself upright and then straddled me, so that I had to look her in the eyes, barely visible in the darkness. "Yet, kajja, think of this. You are the only one who can fix them."

"What do you mean?"

"As well as Mr. Raiza knows his city, and Major Atta-Farash knows the terrain, they are blind to everything else that hobbles them. My father would've had their throats cut at once. Only you could go to the mountains, kajja. And only you can bring us down from them."

"We'll see."

"I trust you, kajja." She rested atop me, and gave me a hug. "I was so happy to hear you were alive... happier still to see you. And when you... when you wanted at once to take up arms, I was worried about what might've happened."

"I'm safe," I said. "We won."

The firefox nodded. "Yes. Do you feel... better? That you have had your... ah... your revenge, for whatever you saw in Jaikot?"

"That I've had it? No," I admitted. I was, though I refrained from telling her, a little uncomfortable with the way she was laying on me. I did not like to think of the reasons why that might be the case. "I haven't had my revenge yet. But I've started."

And as I drifted off, with Razi sliding from me to curl up snugly in her customary ball, it was enough to know merely that. That it had started -- without knowing where and how to finish.

"Colonel!"

I jolted awake at once, turning to the soldier kneeling at my side. "What is it?"

"A message from the fort, sir. Major Atta-Farash is debriefing him, but he asked me to get you immediately."

Whatever the message was, its panic had spread to the soldier, and from there it spread to me. I tugged on my boots hurriedly and shrugged my jacket on, fastening the buttons as I walked.

Atta-Farash Irzim and Sergeant-Major Bealde had a map unrolled between them. Locke was shaking his head at something the major had said. "Doubtful, sir," was all I caught.

"What's going on?"

"An army, sir," Atta-Farash said. "A large army has crossed into Dhamishaya -- the estimate is four thousand men. We think it must be the Ellagdrans."

"Into Dhamishaya?" My heart sank. "Where are they?"

"They've forced the passes and they've taken Ka Kelda."

"Shandur?"

The panther shook his head. "For now, they seem to have ignored it, but we can't get word through. And there's nobody there at the moment who can use the ramigor."

"You've no idea as to their intent?"

"The auxiliaries didn't engage at close range. It would've been suicide," Atta-Farash added quickly, lest I think he was accusing them of cowardice. "From a distance, we think they've split into three equally sized columns. One headed along the river to Jin-Giri, one headed here, and one perhaps to Malak-Choti."

Razi came to see what was going on. I stepped to the side, making room. She tilted her head. "Foreigners? Or are these farmers?"

"Foreigners," Major Atta-Farash said. "Four thousand of them. Ellagdrans, it must be."

"We should've had warning... or stopped them..."

"Four thousand," the panther repeated. "And we've left the mountains unguarded with everyone here -- your clan included. There wouldn't have been a way to stop them."

I scanned the map and, bringing my paws together, tried to put aside my doubts and think strategically. "If they take the passes, Jin-Giri and the plains east of Serhai, Fort Shandur is isolated. They wouldn't have to attack it at once. They're mounted?"

"They were described as being on horseback, yes."

"That's an advantage," I decided -- much as it pained me to admit that cavalry had any flaws whatsoever. "Ellagdrans normally fight with cannon, but those move slowly. If they have any artillery, it'll be small in caliber."

"That means Shandur can 'old out, for a bit, at least." Locke shook his head quickly. "Bloody fuck all for the rest of us though, eh?"

Against four thousand men? He had a point. "We can check this column at Bosma for a day, perhaps, if they've thirteen hundred soldiers or so. No longer."

"Outnumbered more than ten to one, Haitch? Half a day is more like it, and what do we accomplish?"

Death in glorious battle, just the way my clan would've liked it. It didn't seem like the kind of advantage that would sway any opinions. "I don't know. It seems unlikely that we can move on Jaikot under these... oh, ellad."

"Sir?"

At the cost of a train and a hundred dead -- and Reth Kanda, a political liability -- Rescat Carregan had forced me to show my hand and commit the best of my forces, with the rest of them spread out. It left us unprepared for the Ellagdran advance.

Now we were caught between a four thousand man hammer and the anvil of an assault on Jaikot, which would surely have had some prepared defense by now. I explained briefly.

"You think it was a trap," Major Atta-Farash concluded. "This whole affair? One huge... gambit."

"Rescat is crafty. She wanted to know our disposition. She must have figured, also, that it would force us to act."

"I'm not honestly certain, sir. It seems... complex. And to be quite frank, sir, there is not much we could've done anyway against an invading army even if we had known."

"Close the passes. Cut the bridge at Shandur. Everything that we are about to do. Major, I'll stay here with a few men -- no more than forty. Volunteers. We'll hold the Gap as long as we can, and keep them pinned for you to withdraw."

"Withdraw?"

"Back to the mountains. Retake Ka Kelda and shut it down -- by explosives, if you have to. Cut them off from their supplies and they'll have to act rashly. They don't know the terrain. We can wear them down."

Atta-Farash coughed, as though he hadn't heard me. "Wear down an army of four thousand?"

"Four thousand soldiers," Razi raised her voice. "With that many horses, or more. They need food and water, if they need nothing else. If they intend to raid the farms, that will exact a price, too. I'll stay with you, kajja. Pashai will, too."

"He'd be better used in the mountains. I don't mean this to be a last stand, major -- we'll withdraw when we can. Forty men, with knowledge of the land, will be more flexible than the whole of the RFC if it has to move as a body."

"Yes, sir," the panther said, though I knew he didn't agree.

Sergeant-Major Bealde didn't either. "The Ellagdrans 'ave every other advantage, though. Their rifles are better. Their soldiers are disciplined. Cor blimey, Haitch, but fightin' their bloody riflemen..."

"We won't. We'll hit, and run, and escape to do it again. If Rescat thinks she's won, I intend to correct that assumption."

Getting volunteers proved to be easier than I'd feared. Given what we all knew to be at risk, well over sixty men offered to stay behind. I had to turn twenty away; the rest of us went to preparing as best as we could.

I put some of our powder into hastily dug mines, the way we had ambushed the train, and rigged up stone traps. I wanted to disrupt the cavalry, to throw them into disarray long enough to make full use of our limited numbers. Late in the day, an RFC private ran up to tell me that we'd have to be ready sooner rather than later.

"Sir. Our scouts have spotted the enemy. They're twenty miles to the north-east, and advancing in our direction. At least eight hundred soldiers on horseback; possibly half as many again." The private watched me adjust the marker on our map, and nodded when it was in the right position.

"Well. It could be worse. Thank you, private."

Reth Modin waited until he'd left. "Could be worse, sir?"

"They don't know we're here, and even if they did, they won't attack tonight. Not tired after a day's travel. They'll want to rest the horses and men. The earliest they can strike is tomorrow. We have time to prepare for them."

"And their twenty to one advantage. At least."

"In the Gap, their movement will be limited. They can't put their mobility to good use. We'll wait until they're in the valley to open fire and set off the traps. Horses don't do so well with confusion. By that time we'll have left; we'll have the high ground and a head start."

"You make it sound so easy."

Truthfully I was, of course, not so optimistic. I hadn't seen Ellagdrans fighting on horseback -- I was a little surprised they'd chosen to do so -- and maybe they weren't very good at it. But they didn't have to be. Dismounted, they'd simply form up into their rifle squads and lay waste to anything that moved, 'high ground' or not.

But the longer I held them back, keeping them from linking up with the Iron Corps, the better. It put Atta-Farash and the auxiliaries closer to the safety of the mountains. Once those provided refuge again, we could reconsider our options.

Until then, all we needed to do was survive.

I had felt confident in my assessment that they wouldn't try to attack in the evening, with the sun in their eyes and their horses weary. One of our scouts, though, disabused me of the notion. "Sir!" He was breathless; I figured he'd run nearly the whole length of the valley.

His panic stirred a little of my own. "What is it?"

"We may be about to be discovered, sir. An advanced party is riding towards us, sixty men strong."

"Looking for a place to camp on the other side of the valley, perhaps," I conjectured. "Scouting ahead. Mr. Reth, get your men ready. Wait for my signal."

"We'll attack?"

"We'll wait and see at least, yes."

Modin and the scout saluted, and withdrew. That left Razi; when I looked at her, the firefox patted her rifle. "I am ready as well, kajja. Don't worry."

"This is the only time I can worry. Soon we'll be too busy. Afterwards we'll have been wrong or we'll be dead."

"Spoken like a Kasharman, kajja," she said.

If I squinted, I could just barely make the intruders out; I didn't have long to wait before they became ever-easier to perceive. Dots, with long straight lines of shadow pointing behind them towards the east. Sixty men. We were almost evenly matched -- perhaps we could even dispatch them without losses of our own.

But then we would have given everything away. The alternative was to wait for them to pass; if they got too far away, though, and the rest of the column followed the advanced guard would be able to flank us easily. Neither option was ideal.

"Kajja," the firefox said softly. "I am happy I knew you."

"I am, too, Razi. And I'm glad you stayed with me."

"Yes." She checked the breech of her rifle, and dropped a cartridge into it. "It would be better to have lived with you. But I'm content to die with you, as well. To the next life, kajja." She slid the bolt closed.

"To the next life." If it came to that.

I raised my spyglass. The horsemen were close enough to see clearly, now, trotting in two leisurely columns. Their weapons had not been drawn; the sabers were still sheathed.

Sabers?

I trained the glass on the head of the column, searching for emblems. The standard was furled -- not much wind to lift it, and the horses weren't moving fast enough. I couldn't see much, and the light wasn't good. But...

"Tell Mr. Reth to hold his fire," I whispered to the firefox.

"Something is wrong?"

"Just do it." Still cautious, staying behind cover, I made my way down the hill until I was only twenty yards from the trail -- and definitely close enough to see. I stood, straightened my uniform, and raised my voice. "Halt."

The lead rider in the column stopped to regard me. "An ambush? Do I look like I stop for those?"

"You'll stop for this one."

"What, for a bandit?"

"I'm Jonham, Lord Gyldrane, Commander of the Royal Frontier Corps -- the proper military authority in this district."

I aimed for formality, but I could hardly be surprised when the other commander laughed. "Proper?"

I wore a new RFC uniform; despite my efforts it was already rather dirty, bearing the signs of the previous day's fighting. The other rider had neat, dark-blue dress -- straight trousers and shiny leather boots; a navy jacket, crossed with a saffron sash the same color as the wide-brimmed hat she wore at a jaunty cock.

She did, indeed, look far more proper. But rules were rules. The rider swung herself from the saddle and dropped easily to her feet. "This is 'proper'? And this is the RFC I've heard so much about? You and... who's this?"

Razi, seeing the conversation, had followed me down from her position atop the hill. "Kech Taresh Razi, princess of the Kasharman clan. You would've ridden through their territory on your way here."

The cavalryman looked Razi over, and nodded. "And it's true that he's commander of the RFC, princess?"

"Ah. Yes, ma'am. And you are?"

"This is General Corys Sutheray," I said, as evenly as I could manage. "Commander of the Amberclaw Militia, one of the bannered armies of the March."

"Your superior," Corys added. "I outrank you, colonel."

"I'm the Royal Governor of Nishran Province, as well," I countered.

"And I'm your mother."

"You have me there." There was, suddenly, a lump in my throat, and when her arms widened, and she embraced me, I was grateful that the tightness of her grasp let me gather my wits without sobbing aloud.

At last she let go. "We left three weeks ago. Traveled by barge to Karlied -- the largest fleet the March has ever put together. And they say we can't sail -- hm!"

"What's your intent?" I asked, carefully, trying to guard my optimism. "What's been happening at home?"

"The Landsmoot dispatched me at the same time as they sent a delegation to Tabisthalia. They were in consultation with the Old Council when last I heard, Jon, but the vote in the Moot was for mobilization. Lord Rudkirk led the debate, on account of his son."

"Etan's dead. The RFC was... largely obliterated."

My mother nodded. "We heard in Karlied. I rode from there without explicit orders from the Moot. I wasn't about to let them keep me from you."

"You have no orders?"

She shook her head. "No. I have three squadrons of our militia, plus one of the Three Rivers. General Gereo mustered the whole of the Banner of Whiterock, and General K'nRosset has a mixed force from Deyanshire and eastern Lowgren. All of them voted to come with me. We know what's at stake."

After waving Reth Modin down and dispatching runners to summon Major Atta-Farash back for a general council later, I did what I could to update my mother on the situation in Dhamishaya as a whole.

Her information had been somewhat out of date; they knew that more troops had reinforced Surowa, but not that they were already committed to fighting the insurrection in the downriver provinces.

On the other hand, she had been closer to the spies in our homeland, keeping watch on the far reaches of empire. "In total, the King's Own Army numbers twenty thousand men. Fort Marskirk was reinforced from six to eight thousand with the addition of the 24th Guards and the Cape Regiment."

"Then four thousand each at Fort Dunway, Fort Kennis, and Fort Alunkee?"

Corys tapped my map, a few inches from where my finger rested. "The garrison at Alunkee was split, with two thousand moving north to... this city. Narrot... Nar... well, I can't pronounce it. I'm sure you'd do better, eh, son? Does he know your language?" she asked, looking towards Reth Modin.

The leopard raised an eyebrow. "Not more than you, ma'am. Fort Alan-Kai, if you will, is the closest barracks to Naruthaninakot, but that city was supposed to be loyal to your government. It was one of the first to capitulate in the old war -- an old merchant town; they know the value of gold."

"The disruption of trade on the Ajirandigarh must've hurt them," I said. "The problem, General Sutheray, is that they have twenty thousand men to subdue a realm of a hundred million. Even if their loyalties were known, their help is hardly guaranteed."

"What about up here?"

"North of Jin-Giri's ferry, we've managed to maintain some semblance of order. The province of Sura, on the far side of the river, is more sparsely populated -- that has helped. They're inclined to support the rebels, but they've never had the manpower to do anything about it."

"The RFC has them in check, ma'am," Major Atta-Farash added to my summary. "That province is secure."

"Well, then. We'll have to see about this one!"

General Sutheray had already sent word for the other commanders to join her. It would take a day or so; until then she set her men to digging trenches. Just in case, she told me, adding: no winter coat in the fall.

You can't trust your winter coat to be in by the fall frost, that was the full saying. Whether or not anyone had ever used it before my mother did, it was one of the many she employed. It meant that preparation was important. Indeed, it was the only thing that could be relied upon.

When she was satisfied with the orders, she slipped away from her staff to find me again. "Jon," she said. "A word?"

Razi was teaching me bayeh, but she rose at once to leave the two of us alone. My mother sat carefully where the firefox had been.

"The business aside," she began. "How are you?"

"I've been better? But then again, I've been worse. Chauserlin felt a very, very long way from here."

"It felt that way from Chauserlin, too. Your father's been back and forth trying to get the Moot into shape... to tell you the truth, son, we just haven't known what was going on."

That hardly surprised me, considering how difficult it was to get any word from back home. Having to rely on Arlen Couthragn and his network compounded the issue. "It was enough to get you to come."

My mother smiled, and reached her still-gloved paws across to take both of mine. "That's what I meant. I hope... I hope you didn't think we'd abandoned you."

"No." I'd said it instinctively, and took a few seconds to reconsider what I truly meant. "I guessed that you were doing what you could. And I never lost faith. You and father taught me well."

Corys's smile widened, and she pulled her paws back. "And I never lost faith in that. Do you know... we were in Karlied, and we heard stories about this daring attack on a rebel ship in some lake near the frontier. The Ellagdran mercenary I heard it from said..."

They'd been in a tavern, negotiating for supplies, when they overheard the conversation. One mercenary blamed the attack on 'mountain spirits' and the other, already drunk, cut him off. One of the iron men, he'd said. Gone rogue, I heard. Got the natives with him.

"And the first said 'what madness' and his friend said: 'well, they got the ship, now, didn't they?' I asked him what else he knew, and he said the man was a collie, like me."

"What did you say?"

She grinned. "I said the next round was on me, and I made them toast you. It got a little awkward when we passed through the Confederacy and learned you started attacking the caravans."

"It couldn't have been helped."

"I was able to explain that." She, and her four thousand cavalry, had made an impression on the martial Ellagdrans. They'd secured a pledge of neutrality, until such time as the government could be re-established.

Soon, I hoped.

By the next evening, the other two columns had linked up. Our camp wasn't large enough, not by half: they spread down the hillside, a reassuring sea of tents and activity. Activity that could not, I had to admit, be indefinitely sustained.

Raiza Serapuri estimated that he had enough money hidden to pay the army's food for two months -- three, drawing on credit. "More than enough," my mother said firmly. "We could move on the city at once."

General K'nRosset pressed his paws together; the old badger's gnarled fingers intertwined. "Shall we then, ma'am?"

"I would propose that we officially put our forces at the disposal of the government. We've antagonized King Chatherral plenty, but acting on initiative in his majesty's territory is a bit far. If his deputized authority believes we should move, then I say we move. If he says we wait..."

K'nRosset, keeping his paws folded and his muzzle straight, turned his eyes to me. "Lord Gyldrane? What does the Royal Governor believe?"

"We should march now," I said, feeling the weight of the office less than, perhaps, I ever had. "As far as I'm concerned, we're putting down an illegal rebellion; if the king wishes to continue to turn a blind eye, we'll put it down nonetheless."

"Very well, my lord," the badger said.

"I hope they're slightly off-guard now, with the loss of their train and equipment, and the capture of one of their senior commanders. By now, word of the army will have reached Jaikot. My genuine hope is that a show of force might compel them to capitulate. If it comes to fighting, the city will burn. I can't have that."

"It might come to that." My mother's warning came with a remarkably soft voice from the Border Collie, and the weight of her years of experience. "So you know. It might."

I did what I could to strengthen my own resolve. "It can't. Tens of thousands of people will die if we go into the streets. We'll win, I'm sure, but the cost is far too great."

She had no answer. I had no answer.

I slept poorly that night, and woke at dawn to avail myself of the tea my mother had brought from the homeland. The sense of normalcy did little to soothe my nerves.

Midmorning did.

It was then that I straightened my uniform, polished my saber, and pulled myself back into the saddle. I rode next to General Sutheray, up to the crest of the hill that marked the camp's border. I turned my horse around, when she did, and looked back.

The cavalry greeted me. Four thousand strong, in three columns so neat and orderly they might have been drawn straight on the landscape by a surveyor. The sun lit them from behind; their caps glowed, and glinted off sharp steel in sparkling ripples.

Corys saw the way I was looking at them. She, too, grinned at the imposing sight. "Your orders, governor? Shall we depart?"

We stayed at a steady trot, at the head of the army. As I'd suspected, and hoped, the villagers knew we were coming. At the first we gained, an envoy insisted that the rebels had withdrawn hours before.

It was the same story at the next, and the one beyond that. To Jaikot, Major Atta-Farash asked one villager, a low-caste butcher. She shook her head. To nowhere. They left everything behind.

The provincial capital was still fifteen miles past the horizon when one of our scouts circled back to provide an advanced warning: "Someone rides towards us. A dozen horsemen, and a wagon."

"Armed?" Corys demanded.

"No, ma'am. They're flying a white flag."

I could only hope. We met the party half an hour later. Sure enough, the men were unarmed -- despite the grey Iron Corps uniforms. The carriage door opened, and Rescat Carregan stepped from it.

"Well," she said flatly. "We meet again."

"Dr. Carregan." I introduced her, for the benefit of my companions, the three generals. "From the Railroad."

"Indeed." Rescat Carregan smiled the same knowing, eerie smile she always used. "I wish to talk, Jon. Corys, Erek -- you, I don't recognize, but you must be from some other militia." Without changing her tone, she addressed us each in turn.

"Your surrender," I said.

She was still smiling. "That is what I wanted to discuss, yes."

I don't know what I would've been expecting from the inside of her carriage. Royal opulence seemed absurd the minute I saw the truth, although I don't know that I would've expected the maps, and the shelves of complicated clockwork.

The seats were mere wooden boards, with thin if functional cushions over them. "You look puzzled, Jon," Rescat said. "You should enjoy this moment. Look happy, please."

"Very little about what's happened over the last months has made me happy, Dr. Carregan. This only redeems it slightly."

"Do you think it was all part of my plan? Do you think this, right here, is part of my plan? Don't be stupid. It's not. This isn't what I wanted."

"Your smirk says otherwise."

"I'm not about to suffer emotional collapse from a temporary setback, Jon; please. I've been in worse places. Better ones -- don't get me wrong -- but worse, too."

She still knew how to get to me, much as I wished it wasn't so. I looked away from her, gathered my thoughts, and started again. "You'll surrender. I'm taking you under arrest and sending you under my own guard back to Tabisthalia for trial."

"That's fair," the vixen said. "I should warn you in advance that I'm highly unlikely to be convicted for high treason, so if you want me dead you should just do it now and avoid the hassle."

"I want them to know what you've done. I want you to be held accountable in the capital, where this whole bloody thing started."

Rescat's head tilted. "But you know that I won't be. There will be no trial; the king won't allow it. The Railroad will doubtless pay some restitution, but who'll back your demands for consequence, Jon -- the Moot?"

I growled. "Would you prefer a summary execution here?"

"Of course not. I'm being realistic, Jon. If the militias march on the Tabis Valley again, the result will make this mess here look a boarding school squabble. You March lords are hotheads, but you'll realize that before it happens. I think."

Once more I had to look away. "The Iron Corps will stand down and surrender their weapons. They'll be moved to Surowa, where someone from your company can find transportation back to wherever they came from."

"Very well."

"You'll write an order instructing your native allies to surrender as well. You can tell them there will be no reprisals for anyone at the division level or below."

Rescat listened; her eyes flicked back and forth while she thought. Finally she nodded. "Very well. They'll listen, I think."

"Irrespective of whatever bribe your family can give to the king to spare your head, you'll write another order to the Railroad. They'll be paying for repairs to the locks at Shandur, and the bridges, and the damage to Jaikot."

She considered it further, and I had the impression she was tallying figures in her head. "They won't," she said, obviously still distracted by her thoughts. "For foolish reasons. I'll offer you a compromise."

"This isn't really a negotiation, Dr. Carregan."

The vixen sighed wearily. "It is, Jon; don't make me explain why. I'll put you in contact with traders in Issenrik who will pay fair prices for the equipment we have here; that is easiest for you. And our engineers will rebuild the locks -- you must admit we have good engineers."

"How can I trust them?"

Rescat cocked her head sharply when she looked at me. "Why would I sabotage the locks? Vindictiveness? Jon, the Railroad will be back, it's only a matter of years or decades. Good trade routes are beneficial for everyone. If you want to stick to your principles, you may, but I guarantee you that you'll not see a pound for those locks, and you don't want Dhamishi laborers working on them anyway."

There, she had a point. "Fine."

"Is that all?"

"That's all," I said. "Except this: you've lost, Rescat. Dr. Carregan. You and your gods-damned Railroad have lost. Maybe back in Stanlira the rest of your family won't understand that -- but you do."

"Yes." The vixen nodded, and she even did me the courtesy of dropping her smile. It made it, just barely, possible to believe her. "I do. Your conditions are mostly acceptable. You have my surrender. Draw up a document and I'll sign it. I would make one suggestion."

"What?"

"You asked me to surrender the Iron Corps' weapons. I'm sure it sounded good when you said that, Jon, but I'd urge you to rethink it. You can't use them, and if I were you, given the state of things, I wouldn't want them kept around for anyone who can."

Without giving any answer, I got up, exiting the carriage. I left the door open, so that Rescat could hear the order I gave to the nearest militiamen. "Arrest her. Arrest all of them."

Then I went to write up the surrender document itself. She'd gain the satisfaction of knowing she was right when she read it; it wasn't a good idea to leave the weapons behind. The rest of it...

I stopped, halfway done, holding my quill above the sheet of paper. Would it be better to just kill her? Would that help? I could tear the document up and cut the damned vixen's head off. It was better than she deserved. It was conclusive.

And for Dhamishaya? Would it be better for them?

I sighed heavily.

I. As of 6 PM, 9 Ardasev, 895 hostilities are to be concluded at once between the Carregan Iron Corps, the natives now in rebellion, the Royal Frontier Corps and the Bannered Militias of the March.

II. The remaining men of the Iron Corps and their allies will surrender themselves as prisoners of war to the Royal Frontier Corps.

III. The Iron Corps and their native allies will surrender all weapons to the possession of the Royal Frontier Corps. Native weapons to be transferred to the King's Own Army garrison, Marskirk. Iron Corps weapons to be disabled, the cannons spiked, and transferred to Surowa for transport.

IV. Iron Corps and Carregan employees to wholly leave Dhamishaya territory no later than 25 Ardasev, 895 with their weapons and equipment, all costs of transport and sustenance to be born by the Carregan Railroad. Personal possessions of individual Iron Corps and Carregan employees to remain their inviolable and unmolested property.

V. Dr. Rescat Carregan to surrender herself to the Royal Frontier Corps and be transported at once to Aernia, there to face trial and consequence for the incitement of treason.

VI. R. Carregan to appoint a negotiator to, in good faith, arrange the sale of Railroad equipment in Issenrik, guaranteeing it not be used for further acts of destruction, the proceeds returning to the Royal treasury of Dhamishaya earmarked for repair and reconstruction of the province.

VII. Notwithstanding Article IV., R. Carregan to appoint a team of engineers to repair and reconstruct the lock system at Shandur, costs to be born by the Railroad separate from Article VI.

VIII. The military and civilian leadership of the native rebellion will surrender to face trial and consequence for their sedition, with the understanding that no punishment is to be visited on those followers below the rank of general or the position of town mayor.

IX. No extralegal reprisals are to be tolerated on the part of loyalist forces, on pain of capital punishment for jeopardizing the peace.

X. Authority for executing the terms of this document to rest with the office of the Royal Governor. R. Carregan to appoint a representative from the Iron Corps to serve as liaison until such time as transport is concluded.

_Agreed at Jaletka, 9 Ardasev, 895: _

Jonham, Lord Gyldrane, Royal Governor of Nishran Province -- for His Majesty King Chatherral IV Dr. Rescat Carregan -- for the Carregan Transcontinental Railroad Gen. Corys Sutheray, Lady Dalchauser -- for the Bannered Militias

I scanned the document again. It did not feel quite as satisfying as beheading Carregan seemed likely to prove. My fingers twitched. After a minute, I added one last line.

Kech Taresh Razi Kasharman, ambassador -- for the bayeh

When the ink dried I gave the document to a courier, and waited until I had Carregan's signature on it before going to see her again. She was back in her carriage -- this time with two guards posted outside.

"You can write after all," she said, when I joined her in the wagon. "I'm pleasantly surprised."

"I can write well enough. It's over, and you're locked up."

"True." The vixen turned her paws, watching as the iron of the cuffs plucked at her smooth fur. "Will you at least smile now, Jon?" She raised her arms, rattling the chains for effect.

"I did want to see it, I'll admit."

"I don't really blame you."

"Not as much I want to see your trial," I said. I started to leave, for I knew she would just remind me -- no doubt accurately -- how unlikely that was to happen.

But she didn't. "Hold on. Jon, it's about to get more difficult for you. I have some advice."

I half-turned, glancing sideways at the vixen. She was sitting perfectly still, her paws in her lap. "Why would I take advice from you?"

"Because you think I'm cocky, dangerous, and ruthless, but you always worried you'd underestimated me, and many times you were right -- so you think I may have something valuable to say."

"What would it be?" I still didn't turn all the way around.

"With the Duke of Sidley dead, they'll need to appoint a new viceroy. You'll be recommended. Not because you're competent, but because you're a politically correct choice that will appease the March. Your... quaint feudal tendencies may oblige you to accept."

"You'd say otherwise, I suppose."

"You're the smartest of them here, Jon. You are competent, after your own fashion, but you'll need to be better if you accept. You think their shekhs are idiocy, and I agree -- but you also want to bring to the mountaineers into the fold. How will you do both? How will you suppress the next rebellion?"

"That presumes there are others," I said, although I knew it was a weak objection.

Rescat smiled coldly. "It does. There will be. That isn't the problem you'll face, Jon. The king is an idiot, and worthless -- outliving his usefulness even to the perverted ends of my aunt Tokeli. None of them know things work down here; none of them care. If they cared, they would've stopped me a long, long time ago."

"On that, we may be in slight agreement..."

"You'll ask for more men and you'll never hear back. You'll ask for orders and receive none. If they are weak-willed, you cannot be. This world is headed for several catastrophes. I'm not sure we can survive one more on top of them."

I didn't know if she was baiting me; Rescat had many flaws, but a flair for the dramatic hadn't ever seemed to be one of them. I turned all the way around, and closed the door of the carriage again. "Catastrophes?"

"The Railroad and the Dominion will come to blows; I can't stop it -- and yes, Jon, I have as much contempt for some of my own blood as I do for you nobles. Our own country will face another civil war before either of us are old. And the Dead City will wake, and strike out in the force they've been marshaling for nearly a thousand years. If all three come in the same decade, I -- even I, Jon -- fear what will happen."

My ears did not quite flatten altogether, but I could feel them starting to swivel backwards. "The last one. Is that why you came here? Is that what this railroad was for?"

It would've been a perfect opportunity for her to smile again; to laugh her gay, superior laugh. She stayed motionless. "The Ellagdran Confederacy is stupid and fractious, but they are the only ones who understand the threat the Hakasi truly pose. They can't stand alone. Less than you think lies between Angbasa and Tabisthalia, Jon."

"The March, before that."

"I don't know when they'll awaken for certain. It shouldn't be your primary concern. But remember they're out there, and a strong Dhamishaya might be very, very important one day."

Rescat's carriage stayed with us all the way back to Jaikot, so that she could inform her defeated allies of the surrender personally. Nobody fired a shot -- but the city's tension was palpable.

It would get worse before it got better. Reth Kanda, Raiza told me gently, could not be allowed to live. His confederates would have to suffer the same fate. It would inflame the sensibilities of their shekhs, and upset whatever balance remained.

Raiza Serapuri took a seat at his old desk, opened the same book I'd seen him open a thousand times before, and scanned the dense ledger. Rescat Carregan's wagon, and a few military caissons of the Iron Corps were waiting outside for my order to depart. It seemed odd to think that they had been the simplest of all my tasks.

Easy. All it took was a signature. And all it took was one more word to banish them forever. I gave it. One of my mother's militiamen was supervising: he saluted, and nudged the mules into action.

From the doorway of the Royal Governor's building, I watched the caravan lurching off down the gritty road with something darker mixed into the sense of accomplishment. It is done, I thought.

But what of tomorrow?