Django Wexler - The Shadow Throne

“We’re all doubling up these days,” the cabbie told him. “Half the boys have hidden their rig and taken their horses to the countryside until all this is over. It’s only a few minutes out of your way.”

The man was eyeing his uniform, and Marcus probably could have evicted the other passengers with a word of command and a pointed look. But he was in no hurry, so he climbed in and took his seat beside two young men wearing the restrained but expensive clothing of professionals or successful merchants. The door closed, and the horses started clip-clopping up the cobbled street.

“It’s true,” one of the men said to the other, taking no notice of Marcus. “One of my kitchen boys has a cousin who’s a carter, and he’s been making the run up to Ohnlei. He said he saw them in the field, muskets and trousers, bold as brass.”

The other man snorted. “Whores drumming up business. Girls acting like men does it for some people, I suppose. I can see the appeal. It’s cute, like putting a little coat and hat on your dog and pretending he’s a gentleman.”

“This carter talked to some of the new soldiers,” the first said. “They said one of the men asked for a price, and got a kick in the fork for his troubles.”

The other laughed. “Probably tried to lay a hand on the merchandise without paying cash up front. I met this girl in a Southside tavern once, and she would slit you as soon as look at you until you crossed her palm with gold. After that, well, it was a different story. .”

Marcus pressed his head against the window and tried not to listen. He was certainly no stranger to prostitutes-no soldier was-and he’d had his share in Ashe-Katarion, before the Redemption. There were always girls willing to fawn over the Vordanai soldiers in those days, for the status and protection from the prince’s law, but Marcus had preferred the honesty of a straightforward commercial transaction. Then there had been Jen, and after she’d betrayed him. .

And now she’s dead. He still wasn’t sure how to feel about that. There had always been the wild hope, in the back of his mind, that she’d wake up and beg forgiveness. Janus said whatever Ihernglass had done had stripped her of the demon she’d borne for the Church, so she’d be no further use to them. She could have stayed with me, and-what? Marriage? His mind balked at the idea.

It doesn’t matter now. He swallowed a lump in his throat and shook his head. Fantasies never helped anybody.

After letting the two young men off at a fashionable town house south of Bridge Street, the cab rumbled around to the Twin Turrets. The sun was still up, but already the house was ablaze with light, torches burning beside the doors and candles showing in the windows. Marcus paid the fare, exchanged salutes with the Mierantai guards, and went inside.

Janus was in his study, still going over the maps of the ground between Vordan City and Midvale with a pencil and dividers. The usual stack of folded papers, weighed down with books, inkwells, and whatever else was handy, stood at his elbow. The colonel always insisted on thorough reports from his subordinates.

Marcus saluted again, then relaxed at Janus’ vague wave. He closed the door behind him.

“Good afternoon, Captain,” the colonel said. “What news from our officers of artillery?”

“They’re making progress, sir.” Marcus related what he’d seen at the University, and what Val had told him.

“It’s something, anyway.” Janus sighed. “If I were truly the all-seeing genius they call me in the streets, I would have had a cache of cannon secreted somewhere in the city in preparation for this moment. Take note, Captain. Preparation has its place, but there is no substitute for improvisation. And a great deal of hard work.”

“Yes, sir.” Marcus hesitated. “You were up at Ohnlei today?”

“Briefly,” Janus said. “Captain Warus and I decided to keep the headquarters here. If the duke moves quickly enough, it’s possible Ohnlei might come within his reach, and it’s poorly suited for defense. We’d have to abandon it.”

“I see.”

Janus looked up, big gray eyes skewering Marcus. “Why do you ask?”

“I. .” Marcus paused, his face reddening a little, but there was no turning back now. It was hard to hide anything from Janus. “I heard something on my way back. Just a rumor, I’m sure. They said a gang of women had taken up residence there, and were. . practicing their trade. I wondered if you knew about it.”

Marcus wouldn’t have put it past Janus to hire a bunch of prostitutes for the use of his newly recruited soldiers, now that he came to think about it. For all that he was a nobleman, he lacked delicacy in such matters, though as far as Marcus knew he himself never indulged. He wondered if Janus had a woman, back in Mieran County. Hell, or a wife. I’ve never asked, and he never talks about himself.

“Ah.” Janus laid his pencil down and straightened up. “I suppose word was bound to get out.”

Now I’ve put my foot in it. Marcus’ cheeks were flushed under his beard. “If this is something you’ve arranged, I don’t mean to imply-”

“It is indeed something I arranged, Captain, but it’s not what you think. This morning I had a visit from a group of young women who wished to volunteer as soldiers.”

Marcus barked a laugh, automatically. Then, as he put this together with what he’d heard in the carriage, his forehead furrowed.

“You sent them on their way, sir, I should think,” he said.

“On the contrary, I told them their services would be welcome. Their spokesman was the notorious ‘Mad Jane,’ with whom I think you may be familiar.”

“You told them. .” Marcus shook his head. “I don’t understand. What are you hoping to accomplish?”

“I am hoping to defend this city and my queen against the Last Duke,” Janus said, a touch of harshness entering his voice. “I will accept the assistance of anyone who wishes to offer it.”

“So you sent them to be-what? Nurses? Washerwomen?” Marcus’ frown deepened. “I don’t like it, sir. A few girls, out among so many young men. People are going to make assumptions.”

“You don’t seem to understand, Captain. I sent them to be soldiers . As for their safety among so many men, I think Miss Verity and her companions have adequately demonstrated their ability to care for themselves, don’t you?”

“You sent them to be soldiers,” Marcus deadpanned. “A bunch of girls.”

“Yes.”

“To carry muskets.”

“Yes.”

“And to march-”

“Yes. Captain, what is it about this concept that you find so difficult to understand?”

“But that’s ridiculous, sir! You can’t-I mean, they would-”

Janus said nothing, eyes hooded. Marcus took a deep breath.

“If they’re dead set on it, maybe we could use them for recruiting,” he said. “But you can’t seriously think of sending them into the fighting.”

“Why not?”

“Because they might get killed!”

“And I suppose you think all the boys we’ve recruited have steel skins?”

“But-”

“Forgive me if I sound callous, Captain, but from my experience I am reasonably certain that a woman can stop a musket ball as well as any man. If she can load and fire her own weapon as well, I see no reason to stop her.”

“The other recruits will never stand for it. Nobody will stand for it.”

“You’d be surprised,” the colonel said. “‘Mad Jane’ is quite popular, and many of our new soldiers come from the Docks. And if anyone does object, they’ll have their officers to answer to.”

“But. .” Marcus turned even redder. “I don’t think you’ve thought this through, sir. What if they’re captured by the enemy?”