Джо Аберкромби - The Heroes

‘So it’s a question of revenge?’

‘A little, but mostly it’s good sense. If the Union had pushed on yesterday they might’ve finished us.’

‘Maybe. So?’

‘So the only reason I can see for stopping is if they had to. The Union’s a big place. Lots of borders. I reckon they’ve got other worries. I reckon every day I let that bald old fuck sit his terms’ll get better.’

‘Huh.’ Reachey fished a burning stick from the fire, pressed it to the bowl of his pipe, starting to grin as he got it lit. ‘You’re a clever one, Calder. A thinker. Like your father. Always said you’d make quite a leader.’

Calder had never heard him say it. ‘Didn’t help me get here, did you?’

‘I told you I’d burn if I had to, but I wouldn’t set myself on fire. What was it the Bloody-Nine used to say?’

‘You have to be realistic.’

‘That’s right. Realistic. Thought you’d know that better’n most.’ Reachey’s cheeks went hollow as he sucked at his pipe, let the brown smoke curl from his mouth. ‘But now Dow’s dead, and you’ve got the North at your feet.’

‘You must be almost as pleased as I am with how it’s all come out.’

‘’Course,’ as Reachey handed the pipe over.

‘Your grandchildren can rule the North,’ as Calder took it.

‘Once you’re finished with it.’

‘I plan not to finish for a while.’ Calder sucked, bruised ribs aching as he breathed deep and felt the smoke bite.

‘Doubt I’ll live to see it.’

‘Hope not.’ Calder grinned as he blew out, and they both chuckled, though there might’ve been the slightest edge on their laughter. ‘You know, I’ve been thinking about something Dow said. How if he’d wanted me dead I’d have been dead. The more I think on it, the more sense it makes.’

Reachey shrugged. ‘Maybe Tenways tried it on his own.’

Calder frowned at the bowl of the pipe as if thinking it over, though he’d already thought it over and decided it didn’t add. ‘Tenways saved my life in the battle yesterday. If he hated me that much he could’ve let the Union kill me and no one would’ve grumbled.’

‘Who knows why anyone does anything? The world’s a complicated bloody place.’

‘Everyone has their reasons, my father used to tell me. It’s just a question of knowing what they are. Then the world’s simple.’

‘Well, Black Dow’s back to the mud. And from the look o’ your sword in his head, Tenways too. I guess we’ll never know now.’

‘Oh, I reckon I’ve worked it out.’ Calder handed the pipe back and the old man leaned to take it. ‘It was you said Dow wanted me dead.’ Reachey’s eyes flicked up to his, just for an instant, but long enough for Calder to be sure. ‘That wasn’t altogether true, was it? It was what you might call a lie.’

Reachey slowly sat back, puffing out smoke rings. ‘Aye, a little bit, I’ll admit. My daughter has a loving nature, Calder, and she loves you. I’ve tried explaining what a pain in the arse you are but she just ain’t hearing it. There’s naught she wouldn’t do for you. But it was getting so you and Dow weren’t seeing things at all the same way. All your talk of bloody peace making things hard for everyone. Then my daughter up and stands hostage for you? Just couldn’t have my only child at risk like that. Out of you and Dow, one had to go.’ He looked evenly at Calder, through the smoke of his pipe. ‘I’m sorry, but there it is. If it was you, well, that’s a shame, but Seff would’ve found a new man. Better still, there was always the chance you’d come out on top o’ Dow. And I’m happy to say that’s how it happened. All I wanted was the best for my blood. So I’m ashamed to admit it, but I stirred the pot between the two o’ you.’

‘Hoping all along I’d get the better of Dow.’

‘Of course.’

‘So it wasn’t you at all who sent those boys to kill me at your weapon-take?’

The pipe froze half way to Reachey’s mouth. ‘Why would I do a thing like that?’

‘Because Seff was standing hostage, and I was talking big about dealing with Dow, and you decided to stir the pot a bit harder.’

Reachey pressed the end of his tongue between his teeth, lifted the pipe the rest of the way, sucked at it again, but it was dead. He tapped the ashes out on the stones by the fire. ‘If you’re going to stir the pot, I’ve always believed in doing it … firmly.’

Calder slowly shook his head. ‘Why not just get your old pricks to kill me when we were sat around the fire? Make sure of it?’

‘I got a reputation to think on. When it comes to knives in the dark I hire out, keep my name free of it.’ Reachey didn’t look guilty. He looked annoyed. Offended, even. ‘Don’t sit there like you’re disappointed. Don’t pretend you haven’t done worse. What about Forley the Weakest, eh? Killed him for nothing, didn’t you?’

‘I’m me!’ said Calder. ‘Everyone knows me for a liar! I guess I just …’ Sounded stupid now he said it. ‘Expected better from you. I thought you were a straight edge. Thought you did things the old way.’

Reachey gave a scornful grunt. ‘The old way? Hah! People are apt to get all misty-eyed over how things used to be. Age o’ Heroes, and all. Well, I remember the old way. I was there, and it was no different from the new.’ He leaned forward, stabbing at Calder with the stem of his pipe. ‘Grab what you can, however you can! Folk might like to harp on how your father changed everything. They like someone to blame. But he was just better at it than the rest. It’s the winners sing the songs. And they can pick what tune they please.’

‘I’m just picking out what tune they’ll play on you!’ hissed Calder, the anger flaring up for a moment. But, ‘Anger’s a luxury the man in the big chair can’t afford.’ That’s what his father used to say. Mercy, mercy, always think about mercy. Calder took in a long, sore breath, and heaved out resignation. ‘But maybe I’d have done no different, wearing your coat, and I’ve too few friends by far. The fact is I need your support.’

Reachey grinned. ‘You’ll have it. To the death, don’t worry about that. You’re family, lad. Family don’t always get on but, in the end, they’re the only ones you can trust.’

‘So my father used to tell me.’ Calder slowly stood and gave another aching sigh, right from his gut. ‘Family.’ And he made his way off through the fires, towards the tent that had been Black Dow’s.

‘And?’ croaked Shivers, falling into step beside him.

‘You were right. The old fuck tried to kill me.’

‘Shall I return the favour?’

‘By the dead, no!’ He forced his voice softer as they headed away. ‘Not until my child’s born. I don’t want my wife upset. Let things settle then do it quietly. Some way that’ll point the finger at someone else. Glama Golden, maybe. Can you do that?’

‘When it comes to killing, I can do it any way you want it.’

‘I always said Dow should’ve made better use of you. Now my wife’s waiting. Go and have some fun.’

‘I just might.’

‘What do you do for fun, anyway?’

There was a glint in Shivers’ eye as he turned away, but then there always was. ‘I sharpen my knives.’

Calder wasn’t quite sure if he was joking.

Dear Mistress Worth,

With the greatest regret, I must inform you of the death of your son in action on the battlefield near Osrung. It is usual for the commanding officer to write such letters, but I requested the honour as I knew your son personally, and have but rarely in a long career served with so willing, pleasant, able, and courageous a comrade. He embodied all those virtues that one looks for in a soldier. I do not know if it can provide you with any satisfaction in the face of a loss so great, but it is not stretching the truth to say that your son died a hero. I feel honoured to have known him.