Andrew Hartley - Act of Will

That wasn’t so much a half-brick as a ton of them. The captain took another step back and his mouth began to move as if he was searching for words that wouldn’t come.

The captain paused, knowing that this was true and that this was far from common knowledge.

“I am William Hawthorne,” I confessed. “I am also Major Johan Twiness, Section Four, Special Agent Eighty-three. You’re thinking I’m young to be a special agent, I’m sure. Recruited from Homewood Prep at age twelve. You know it?”

“Yes,” he said. “I didn’t attend, unfortunately, but yes, I know it.”

“Well,” I said, moving on, “I think my cover for this mission is now well and truly shot. And Liefson is going to hit the roof when he finds out that the regular infantry have sabotaged an internal espionage mission because they didn’t bother to consult with high command before turning the dogs loose.”

He blinked, and I took the moment to motion him closer with a nod of my head.

“You are Seventh Infantry, yes, Captain?” I said, my voice lowered conspiratorially.

“Yes, sir. Captain J. F. Danek. Served throughout the Bowescroft campaign. Decorated for bravery in the siege of Althwaite, now placed with the Cresdon B Garrison, sir.”

“Good man, Danek, outstanding,” I said. “So here’s the thing. I’ve been undercover for months. This morning some idiot corporal tried to take me in. Caused all kinds of trouble. I will have to lie low for a while so the rebels don’t get suspicious. Now, it seems to me that this situation can be saved if we move along swiftly, and you keep what you have learnt to yourself. Make your way slowly back to Cresdon and-this is most important-report none of this to your superiors, whom Section Four seem to consider unreliable.”

“Are you suggesting, sir, that my commanding officer may be a security leak?” said the soldier, unable to conceal the faintest hint of glee.

“Infantry man too, is he?” I asked.

“No, sir,” said the soldier. “Straight from Thornbridge Staff Officer Academy, sir. Barely twenty-four. No active service.”

“I see. You have my sympathy, Captain Danek. If I were you, I would lie low, say nothing, and watch your young commander like a hawk.”

“I will do that, sir. Your suggestion to return, sir, is that an order?”

“Would it make life easier for you if it were?”

“I have to submit the reports on my company’s actions,” he said, slightly embarrassed by his predicament.

“Very well, Captain Danek. You may consider my suggestion an order.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.” He thought for a moment and then stood to attention, adding in his best military bark, “I shall lead my company back to Cresdon and complete my orders, sir!”

“Good man,” I said. I received his salute with a superior nod and a smile of satisfaction and then marched back to the wagon, where the others were watching me silently, apprehensively.

I climbed back up onto the wagon, and the others, as if in a daze, just stared.

“What the devil did you say?” muttered Orgos.

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, actually.”

“I used a little information that few people know,” I said, my eyes on the soldiers as they remounted their horses.

As the soldiers walked out of earshot Garnet glared at me and said, “And how did you find out so much about Empire operations?”

“Research,” I said. “I’m a writer.”

“Not good enough,” said Garnet. “I’ve never heard of this Commander Liefson. How would you know that he headed up Section Four unless-?”

“Because Harveth Liefson is a secret theatre fan and he goes to the Eagle in disguise every Saturday afternoon rain or shine,” I said. “He and I have shared many a pint together and he has, once or twice, confided rather more than he probably should.”

Orgos was the only one who seemed content. Mithos’s eyes were cold and hard with suspicion. I smiled encouragingly but he just stared at me.

The troops had turned their horses and, with a single gesture of his hand, their captain urged them back the way they had come at a slow trot. Mithos watched them go and then laid a strong hand on my wrist. His dark face and eyes only inches from mine, he whispered, “If you turn us in or lead us into a trap, Mr. Hawthorne, I swear I’ll run my sword through your heart before you can say my name.”

I just sat where I was beside Orgos thinking vengefully that I should have turned them all in when I had the chance. I wasn’t entirely sure why I hadn’t.

It was still light, but only just. We had seen nothing more of the Empire but couldn’t hope that my little ruse would hold them off for long. They might be back after us first thing in the morning, but I rather hoped old Harveth Liefson would cover for me for a few days. He had been quite a fan, and it really wasn’t in his interest to reveal how I had found out so much of his professional affairs. Liefson knew I was no rebel, and he was a decent sort of guy. No: there was no doubt that the Stavis garrisons would be on the lookout for us when we got there, but I doubted we’d have much trouble from the Empire on the road through the Hrof wastes.

We pulled off the road into a glade of cedars and pines, as close to lush as we’d seen in twenty miles. We jumped down from the wagon-or rather Orgos jumped and I sort of fell-and immediately they were busy. Mithos’s attitude to me had changed again. That scary, watchful suspicion had vanished, or slid under a log like a snake.

“Go and get some wood,” he said. “Nothing green and nothing too big. Just twigs and dead leaves for kindling. And don’t cut anything live. It kills the trees and it won’t burn.”

“I know that. I’m not completely stupid,” I told him. “I don’t know why you want a fire anyway. It’s roasting out here.”

“We need some hot water,” he answered tersely without looking up from the tent he was raising with Orgos. “Don’t you want to wash? Don’t you want a meal?” He paused to hammer a peg into the hard earth with a wooden mallet. “And don’t you want to keep the jackals and mountain lions at a safe distance?”

He added that last one just to wind me up, as Orgos’s grin confirmed. The other two reasons would have been just fine.

“Are there mountain lions around here?” I asked, trying to sound like I didn’t believe him and couldn’t care less either way.

“Some,” he said. “Though they tend to move closer to water. This heat can really make them irritable.”

“I’ve heard of massive mountain lions sighted round here,” Orgos added helpfully, “even in the summer. Real monsters. I heard of a guy who was camping out here and one came right into the tent and-”

“All right, I’ll get the wood,” I said, and left.

By the time I had got a good armful, dropped it off by the wagon, and gone back for another, the light was going fast. I was poking around for more sticks when I saw it, just out of the corner of my eye. It reared up and its head sort of hung there in the air, its hood flared. I’m no naturalist, but I know a cobra when I see one. They turn up from time to time in the city, but this was the first time I’d seen one up close outside a street show. It watched me, its tongue flicking slightly. I wanted to call out to the others but didn’t dare. Could snakes hear? I didn’t even know that. I turned my head to face it and felt like I was about to pass out.

“Don’t look at it.”

Garnet was behind me. I hadn’t heard him approach. “They spit venom into your eyes,” he said. “Look down and back off slowly.”

“They spit venom?” I muttered, fear making me stupid.