Shadows, стр. 16

Cutter pushed away the memory of tobacco’s smell. “You were approved for leadership because of your self-discipline and maturity, Tanavuna. I appreciate that our way of war isn’t what you’re used to, but we face long, long odds down there, and not all our people are going to come back. Our only hope of saving Kesteluni is if we operate as one unit, so it’s more important now that you remember your training than if they hadn’t taken her. The men will be looking to see how you react; they will do as you do. If you become angry or blind in the moment, so will they.”

Cutter acted as if he expected Tanavuna to behave like a US Army officer should and took back the binoculars, focusing them in the fading light. In truth, though, he knew the success of his mission stood on a razor’s edge.

After half a minute, during which Tanavuna visibly considered his response, he finally answered, this time loud enough for everyone to hear. “What are your orders, Captain?”

In the gathering darkness, Cutter gathered his squad leaders and the men of the platoon who weren’t needed on lookout and pointed out Major Moorefield’s plan of attack. Shadows hid Imsurmik’s eastern side, but all of his men knew the city’s layout well enough to follow along as he spoke.

“To repeat, Major Moorefield doesn’t have the assault forces to capture the city outright. His primary job is to breach selected points in the defenses and make enough trouble that the F’ahdn decides to flee to a safer place. Because the city’s leadership is rigidly hierarchical, it’s also brittle. So with any luck, the defense will fall apart, and Imsurmik will fall into our hands. The major’s first objective is to control the main entrance and exit points from the city. Our job is to identify, find, and capture anyone who might have information on the future plans of the J’Stull or the Kulsians. Whatever they are, you can be certain they’re for their benefit—and at the expense of you and all other Ashbanders that aren’t their willing lackeys.

“We’ll operate in three squads, the way we’ve trained. We can cover more ground that way, but doing so means less firepower, so avoid pitched fights if possible. First Squad will clear a path through the Outer City, entering along the main road. I’ll be with them in tactical command. Lieutenant Tanavuna, using night to cover his movements, will circle to join Major Moorefield’s forces on the east and enter the city according to their recommendations. Second and Third Squads will accompany him. Some of you have mentioned rumors concerning a hidden entrance somewhere north of the city. If you discover that, at the lieutenant’s discretion, forces may be committed to investigate and/or block it.”

Cutter paused for effect and then turned, slowly, to look at each and every man. Details faded in the night, but that didn’t matter. “I know you all want to get Kesteluni back. She’s your Hetman’s wife, your healer, and the soul of Nuthhurfipiko. But the best way to do that is to stick to the plan. Keep your focus on the mission. And don’t take foolish chances; I want to see each of your ugly faces when this is over.”

* * *

Four of the F’ahdn’s guards shielded Yukannak as he strolled through the crowds coming and going through the gate. Just a step behind was the servant that the F’ahdn had also provided. Even at that late hour, the streets of the Inner City teemed with crowds, and the streets and markets were lit by braziers, torches, and lanterns. Unlike the Outer City, many of the people inside the wall wore elaborate masks made from finer paints that didn’t run or crack in the heat. Heavier robes and painted skin were no guarantee against the Bleeding Black, but the healers said they helped. Whether they did or they didn’t, the wealthy endured the extra discomfort with contemptuous pride since that too was considered a mark of status. The better people did it because it showed everyone else who they were, thus, even in the dark of night, they paraded through the streets displaying the full measure of their rank.

Despite the sun having been down for hours, heat radiating upward from the stone pavement collected under Yukannak’s robe like the hot air in the airship that brought him to Imsurmik. As the official representative of the satrap, Yukannak affected the calm, aloof manner of a powerful man surveying his domain, untroubled by the heat, the smell, the insects, or the crowds. The reality was different.

Generations of carefully honed and selected genetics helped his body deal with the relentless heat, but even for a Kulsian, R’Bak was oppressively hot. Sweat poured off his body into the ring of cloth stitched atop his boots to absorb the liquid. Stalls set up along the wide, clean streets of the Inner City catered to those who wanted their ankle wraps changed out for fresh ones. Befitting his status, a servant boy carried extras, so he didn’t have to pay for having it done.

Zeesar approached from one side, matching his languid pace. As usual, the yuzbazzi was painted as if he was a common militiaman, and he carefully remained one step behind Yukannak on the right. However, nobody mistook him for anything other than what he was: the F’ahdn’s highest ranking enforcer and fixer of problems. Aside from the power of his village’s militia, Zeesar’s reputation was that of a man who bartered for information and knew secrets he shouldn’t. The powerful and elite of Imsurmik viewed him as disreputable and untrustworthy, both of which were true, but that made them fear him even more.

“Could my lord Yukannak spare this unworthy soul a moment of his time?” Zeesar asked with ritual formality.

“What words could one such as you have to interest me?” Yukannak replied in his haughtiest