\hypertarget{chapter-27-callows-plan}{%
\section{Chapter 27: Callow's Plan}\label{chapter-27-callows-plan}}

\begin{quote}
\emph{``What Foundling does isn't thinking outside the box so much as
stealing the box and hitting her opponents with it until they stop
moving.''}

-- Extract from ``A Commentary on the Uncivil Wars'', by Juniper of the
Red Moon Clan
\end{quote}

I crouched down and peered into the dark.

I couldn't see where it linked up with the tunnels dug by Snatcher's
sappers but there was no doubt that it did: there'd been no assault on
the walls and I hadn't heard any munitions being used. Most likely First
Company had taken the Foxes while they were spread out and preparing an
assault of their own, decapitating the leadership before they could
muster up a real fight.

``Hurried work,'' Pickler noted from where she was crouching next to me,
``but still stable. Juniper makes up for limited sapper assets by
quality.''

First Company's camp -- the one my own legionaries had built -- had been
empty. Tents and bedrolls were still in place and often with rocks and
debris slipped in so from a distance it would look like they were full,
but there was not a living soul among the rocks. I sent Robber to link
up with the rest of Rat Company as soon as I saw Juniper's banner on the
walls and went to follow the tracks coming out of the back of the camp.
They led to the entrance of a tunnel hidden behind a nearby hill,
freshly dug. \emph{Which solves the mystery of where First Company's
sappers had been holing up.} I sighed and forced myself back up. The
night's excitement was already catching up with me, though the
ever-expanding list of issues I had to solve would keep me far away from
my bedroll for the foreseeable future.

``Collapse the tunnels, Lieutenant,'' I finally said. ``That trick isn't
going to work for anyone twice.''

Unclasping the cheek flaps of my helmet, I set it down and took a moment
to straighten up my ponytail. The part of the helm that covered my neck
kept pushing down the leather strip keeping it together, though I
usually didn't notice until the fighting was done\emph{. I might have to
get it cut soon}, I thought. It kept getting in the way, and I didn't
have the time to straighten the knots with my old beaten-up comb the way
I'd used to: the whole mess was so tangled up it could have been used as
a rope. \emph{Or a noose.}

``It'll be done in a quarter bell,'' Pickler spoke quietly. ``A little
more, if you want us to be thorough.''

``Thorough is good,'' I grunted. ``Have Robber do the same for the
tunnels leading in Wolf Company's camp, I'm not giving Juniper multiple
ways out of that fortress.''

Sure, I could have used the tunnels too. But now that the element of
surprise was gone she would just drop a handful of smokers in them
whenever she caught sight of us and let us choke our lungs out in the
dark before sweeping up whoever was still standing. Well, crawling. The
point still stood. I didn't think she'd risk an assault herself,
considering we could do the same to her, but I wasn't going to be taking
chances with the Hellhound. Snatcher evidently had, and how had that
ended up for him? I made my way up the hill, ducking around a stone
spire that looked a little too unstable for my tastes and allowed myself
to drop on the ground after checking the close-by bush for snakes.

Ratface had informed me that pretty much everything out in the Wasteland
was either poisonous or out to eat your liver -- and possibly your soul
-- before he'd been taken prisoner. Something about how everyone who
took over the Tower let out the experiments of the last Tyrant into the
wilds, which seemed like a horrible idea to me and therefore entirely in
line with the usual Praesi way of doing things. I closed my eyes and lay
back against the rock, taking comfort in the fact that I was out of
sight and therefore none of my troops could see me totally at a loss for
what to do. Nauk had pulled out of Fox Company's fortifications before
Juniper had taken them and been entirely unaware of their taking over
when Robber had made contact with him. I'd ordered him to take our
survivors in the hills beyond either of the already-made camps as soon
as he finished looting Wolf Company's supplies.

It would have been more comfortable to stay in one of the camps instead
of pitching our tents out in the wilds, but by now Juniper was bound to
have gotten her hands on the ballista. I wasn't sure what the range on
that thing was, but Snatcher had believed it could reach First Company's
camp and that meant we weren't sticking around. Not that ducking out of
sight was going to accomplish anything in the long term: Juniper was
still holed up in that \emph{fucking} fortress, with only token
casualties and a godsdamned siege weapon to point at my company should
it attack. There was no sign of the prisoners taken during our little
betrayal reach around from earlier, though I'd found the tents where
they'd been kept, so I was still down in the fifties when it came to my
effective fighting force. \emph{Which nearly half of is sappers, and
those are worthless in a melee.}

What did I have that Juniper did not? She had more men, a better
position, and considering she must have ransacked Snatcher's stocks like
I had Aisha's we should be about even on munitions. I'd have more
demolition charges, considering Wolf Company had taken a Siege
inventory, but my cadets would have to get close to use those. \emph{And
I'll eat my helmet if she didn't grab all the crossbows she could from
Fox Company's men.} My plan had been an elegant thing, when we'd started
out the melee. Betray Morok to Aisha, betray Aisha to Snatcher and
betray Snatcher to use his fortifications against Juniper. The moment
Wolf Company had turned on me, though, it had all gone up in smoke. I'd
been on the back foot ever since, and the moment I'd thought I was
getting a modicum of control again the Hellhound had turned the entire
thing on its head by ending Fox Company in one swift blow.

Gods, I was tired. Tired and out of ideas to use against a captain who
it was becoming obvious was just better at Legion tactics than I was. It
shouldn't have come as a surprise, really. Juniper had trained for years
in the College and she was the daughter of one of the most talented
generals in the Empire. And yet, on some level, I'd still expected
things to turn out to my advantage. They had back in Laure, when my
murder had turned into an apprenticeship to Black, and once again in
Summerholm when the cock up with the Lone Swordsman had turned into a
mess I'd been the most effective at exploiting. Chaos was something I
was good at dealing with: rolling with the punches was a skill I'd
perfected through my years in the Pit and it served me well when things
spun out of control.

The hard truth was that, right now, my bag of tricks was empty. None of
the things I'd learned on my own were of any use, and what had Black
taught me since I'd become the Squire? A lot of history, some
generalities and the basics of swordsmanship. My Name was a recalcitrant
little brat and even if it had been cooperating I barely even knew how
to use it. I closed my eyes and forced myself to think about nothing,
letting the cool night breeze lick at my face. This was the most restful
thing I could manage short of actually napping, and I was too wired for
that right now. How long passed as I drifted away I couldn't be sure,
but eventually I heard someone make their way up the hill through the
same path I had. I opened my eyes but didn't bother to get up. Hakram
eventually found me, raising a hairless brow when he saw me sprawled
without even the pretence of dignity.

``Taking a break?'' he asked.

``This is my thinking pose,'' I lied.

The tall orc snorted, then took a seat next to me.

``Anything urgent?'' I murmured.

``Not right now,'' he grunted. ``First Company's not moving and Pickler
is finishing up with the tunnels. You should probably call an officer
meeting soon.''

``And tell them what?'' I scoffed. ``That I have no idea how to get us
how of this mess?''

It helped that we weren't looking at each other. I wasn't sure I would
have managed to admit that if we'd been face-to-face. I liked Hakram,
probably the most out of all of my officers. He had a steadiness to him
that I found soothing, and even outside the games he was good company.

``Nobody's expecting miracles out of you, Callow,'' he finally said.
``You already got us much farther than anyone else would have.''

``I'm also the one who got Rat Company in this mess in the first
place,'' I replied bitterly. ``Pickler was right. If I screw this up
your careers are going to suffer, all because I thought I was better at
this than I actually am.''

It was oddly relieving to admit that out loud. I hadn't quite grasped
the kind of damage putting Rat Company's score so horribly in the
negatives would do to my cadet's placement in the Legions. And yet I
could be honest enough with myself to admit that even if I had, I would
have made the same gamble.

``You knew the risks,'' my sergeant gravelled. ``And took the chance
anyway. Why?''

There was nothing confrontational about the orc's tone. He was, from
looks of it, genuinely curious. Trusting implicitly that I'd had a good
reason for what I'd done.

``We win this and I'll get command of the Fifteenth Legion,'' I
confessed quietly.

He did not point out that there was no Fifteenth Legion currently in
existence, or even a Fourteenth for that matter. I was grateful for it:
I was still vague on the details myself, and did not feel like having to
explain any of it.

``And if you lose?'' Hakram asked instead.

``Heiress gets it,'' I replied. ``She played me, in the Tower. Called it
a wager when it was the most one-sided deal I've ever heard of -- and I
lived under the rule of Governor fucking Mazus.''

``That's how they do things, Callow,'' the orc breathed out slowly.
``They give you one out to have the pretence of fairness and then
tighten the screws. Then they smile and ask how can it be their fault,
when you had a way to win but failed?''

There was something bitter in the orc's voice, an old anger that might
not have ruled him but was never far from the surface. It was something
I could relate to.

``You ever want to change the world, Hakram?''

He laughed quietly. ``World's always changing, Callow. We roll the
boulder up the mountain until it falls down the other slope, and then we
start again. If you're lucky, it doesn't crush anything you care for on
the way down.''

``And that's all we can hope for?'' I grimaced. ``Not to be crushed?''

``For people like me?'' Hakram gravelled. ``Yeah. It is. But you're not
like me, Callow. For some reason, you seem to think you can fix this
mess. I don't know if you really can. Hells, I don't know if anyone
can.'' I could feel him smile without looking. ``But I'd like to see you
try.''

He pushed himself up and offered me a hand.

``So get off your ass, Callow, and start scheming again. We're not down
for the count yet, and I'll be damned if we don't go out making a bloody
mess of it.''

I looked into the orc's dark eyes and felt a spike of guilt through my
stomach. It had been easier to think of the legionaries I wanted to
command as tools before I got to know them. I took his hand and let him
drag me up.

``Catherine,'' I finally said. ``Call me Catherine.''

We made our way back down the hill and I got my head back in the game. I
called a meeting as soon as I found a runner, though I didn't bother to
limit it to senior officers this time. There were few enough of us left,
and I'd had my own sergeant attend every one of them so far anyhow.
Kilian's sergeant had been taken prisoner with Ratface but the former
captain's own second-in-command was still with us, a stocky female orc
named Tordis. She'd remained quiet so far, her brown-red eyes shifting
from one lieutenant to the other as they finished giving their reports.

``We set up everyone on half-watches since it's unlikely the Hellhound
will move again tonight,'' Nauk finished in a grunt. ``Camp's not
fortified, but with our position it'll be hard for them to sneak up on
us.''

Nilin looked exhausted, I noticed. His eyelids drooped every few moments
and twice now I'd seen him pinch his own wrist. Pickler and Kilian
seemed in a better state, though it was admittedly hard to tell with the
goblin. As for the sapper lieutenant's main minion, he'd been chewing on
something through all the reports which I took mean he was just fine.

``We won't be doing anything until the sun is up either,'' I told them.
``Rest up your cadets as much as possible, we've got a rough patch ahead
of us. That said, Robber, what the Weeping Heavens are you eating?''

The small goblin noisily swallowed.

``Goat,'' he replied. ``The one we hunted. First Company roasted it and
left some scraps when they moved out.''

I raised an eyebrow but passed no further comment. Rations wouldn't be a
problem for us: we'd taken both Morok's and Aisha's, so we should have
enough for at least another four days. More, actually, considering we
weren't at full strength. I'd given thought to trying to starve Juniper
out of the fortifications, given that there was no time limit in this
melee, but we'd come to a head long before that. Hunting for more game
would be unnecessary, though fresh meat might improve morale if I had
the time. Huh. Fresh meat.

``You're a brilliant little bastard, Robber,'' I told him.

``One of the fundamental truths of Creation,'' he agreed without missing
a beat.

I ignored his gloating. ``We'll be sending hunting parties out with
dawn,'' I told my officers. ``As many as we can.''

Pickler eyed me like I'd grown a second head.

``May I ask why, Captain?'' she said hesitantly.

I clenched my fingers and unclenched them. ``I'm going to fell some
trees to make some carts.''

---

By Noon Bell the next day I had laid out in front of me three goats, a
pretty mangled antelope and what looked like a rabbit with horns. Wait,
did it also have \emph{fangs}? Why would -- no, it didn't matter. Trying
to figure out why a Dread Emperor had created a breed of carnivorous
rabbits would gain me nothing except a splitting headache. The creature
would be useless for my purposes anyway, though I supposed that was my
own fault for not being more specific.

``I don't know where this is going,'' Robber announced cheerfully, ``but
the fact that step one involves slaughtering the local wildlife has
filled me with great expectations. Sir.''

In an entirely predictable turn of events, my praise had gone to
Robber's head with swift efficiency. The better part of my sapper line
was standing in the sun looking at the line of corpses with politely
confused expressions. I'd seen Pickler open her mouth and then close it
without saying a word several times from the corner of my eye.

``One of the goats first,'' I muttered to myself.

I knelt next to the closest corpse and closed my eyes, reaching for my
Name. It felt faraway still, but not as much as it once had -- the last
few weeks had begun to repair the bridge I'd damaged, one morally
dubious decision at a time. This was different in nature to tapping into
one of my aspects, where I let the power flow through me and harnessed
it for my own purposes. I was submerging myself into my Role, reaching
for those cool depths I'd touched only twice before. For a moment
nothing happened, but then I felt it. That great weight pushing against
me, the coldness unnatural to Creation that somehow managed not to feel
\emph{wrong}. I smiled and felt a sharp prick against the palm of my
hand, like I'd been jabbed by a needle. The coldness spread to the
goat's corpse. I got back on my feet and, after a heartbeat, so did the
goat. I tugged at a string and its head turned to look at me. Another
exertion of will and it stepped forward, then back.

``Necromancy,'' Pickler spoke after a blink of surprise. ``I did not
know you were a mage.''

``I'm not,'' I admitted. ``This is Name shenanigans, I'm not entirely
clear on how it works.''

The goblin lieutenant was openly dubious but managed to rally valiantly.
``So we now have a goat. This is\ldots{} progress?''

``You're going to carve it up,'' I told her. ``And put munitions in
it.''

There was a moment of silence until Robber's convulsive laughter filled
it.

``Oh Gods,'' he gasped. ``Juniper's got a fortress and our answer is
\emph{suicide goats}.''

``I'm not sure if that's technically accurate,'' I frowned. ``I mean,
they're already dead.''

Another burst of laughter. ``Undead suicide goats,'' he corrected
himself breathlessly. ``Very sorry, Captain. For the record, I don't
care whether we lose this one anymore. This is already a victory in
every way that matters.''

Engaging him any further would just be seen as encouragement, I decided.
I turned to Pickler, who looked like she wasn't sure whether to be
appalled or impressed. I had a feeling it was not the last time in my
career a subordinate was going to be looking at me this way.

``I want the first one to have enough munitions stuffed in that it can
blow cleanly through the palisade,'' I told the lieutenant.

Pickler cleared her throat. ``Punching our way through the first wall
will be pointless if the entire First Company is arrayed behind it,''
she pointed out. ``We'll still be outnumbered and outclassed.''

``We're not going to be fighting them, Lieutenant,'' I grunted. ``The
only thing we have going for us right now is a ridiculous amount of
munitions and the ability to make expendable carriers for them. I intend
to abuse that as much as possible.''

She nodded, uncertain but unwilling to argue.

``We'll still need to get a mage in range to detonate the\ldots{}
goats,'' she reminded me.

It took a visible effort to speak the last word of that sentence.

``I'll escort Kilian onto the field,'' I replied. ``I need line of sight
myself for fine -- \emph{Robber stop godsdamned touching it}.''

I could feel the goblin's fingers poking experimentally at the corpse's
skin, which added that layer of additional creepiness to an already
eerie feeling. The sergeant grinned unrepentantly in my direction.

``Permission to name the goats, sir?'' he asked.

``Denied,'' I replied without so much as a speck of hesitation.

``Both Morok's Revenge and I are very disappointed in your decision,
Captain,'' he told me, patting the goat's head comfortingly.

``Morok's Revenge?'' I repeated, already regretting the quizzical
intonation before I'd even finished saying the words.

``It's the ugliest and least impressive of the three,'' Robber provided
cheerfully.

I really needed to have a closer look at Legion regulations. It was an
Evil institution, there was bound to be a loophole that allowed you to
strangle irritating minions in the bylaws.

``Well. He's not wrong,'' another of the goblins muttered.

``Oh, we can have another one referring to Bishara,'' a third
contributed excitedly. ``Something like `Aisha'dnt Have Done That'.''

The meeting quickly devolved into my sappers throwing around
progressively more absurd names for our secret weapons.

``Pickler,'' I spoke flatly, turning to the embarrassed-looking
lieutenant who was watching the madness spread through her cadets. ``I
expect you to find a truly vicious punishment for the one that made the
pun.''

Without a single look back I walked away, massaging the bridge of my
nose and ignoring the indignant cry of ``we're not naming it `Ratface's
Ex', he's not even here to hear about it'' for the sake of my sanity.
\emph{Sappers. Mad, every last one of them.}

---

Keeping my tenth in a ramshackle testudo formation meant we could only
move slowly, but it was necessary nonetheless: I didn't want any of the
soldiers on the wall to see our trump card until it was too close for
them to do anything about it.

``Incoming,'' Kilian hissed, a streak of fear in her voice.

I popped my head out from behind the cover of the shields, immediately
seeing the stone sailing across the clear afternoon sky. First Company
had overshot -- it was in no danger of hitting us and landed on the hill
behind my tenth. The geyser of sand and stone caused by the impact made
it very clear that none of us would be getting back up if Juniper landed
a shot properly, though.

``Pick up the pace, cadets,'' I ordered.

From the looks of it Juniper had put two lines up on the palisade
Snatcher had helpfully built for her, which wouldn't have been as much
of a problem if even from where I stood I hadn't been able to glimpse
that the cadets were armed with crossbows. I knew the Hellhound could
easily have fit twice as many legionaries behind the wall, which
probably meant she was trying to bait me into an assault. If I'd truly
been in straits as desperate as the ones she believed, it might even
have worked.

``Another thirty feet, then we disperse,'' I told the legionaries in a
whisper.

A few of us would probably get shot by crossbow bolts -- we were already
in range, actually, but limited ammunition meant Juniper had likely
ordered her legionaries to hold off until they could make the bolts
count -- but if it was a choice between that and continuing to present a
good ballista target then there was no need to think about it twice.

``Even a glancing hit will set it off,'' I reminded Kilian in a murmur.
``The demolition charge alone would have done the trick but they added a
few sharpers just in case.''

The sappers had spent quite some time tinkering with the munitions after
carving up the corpse. I'd become a little curious about what it would
look like when Morok's Revenge went out in a blaze of glory.

``Ten feet,'' I warned my cadets after peeking out from behind the
shields.

I counted my breaths in silence, glancing at Kilian every few moments to
verify the ballista wasn't about to make us a moot point. The redhead's
face remained outwardly calm, tough the way her fingers held the grip of
her sword so tightly her knuckles were paling was something of a
giveaway for her true state of mind.

``On my word, disperse,'' I whispered.

My legionaries immediately scattered, leaving Kilian and I standing
beside an already moving undead. The mage lost no time in chanting her
incantation as I willed the goat to move more quickly, crossing the last
dozen feet separating it from the palisade in moments. There was a cry
of alarm from the soldiers behind it but it was late, too late, and the
fireball flew from Kilian's outstretched hand. It clipped the side of
the animated creature, and that was enough. There was a flash of light
and then thunder struck, the explosion outright shattering a chunk of
the palisade at least ten feet wide. The redheaded lieutenant and I
started legging it without missing a beat, though a part of me wanted to
stop and gape. Neither of us stopped before we were well in cover behind
another hill: I dropped down, catching my breath and making a quick
headcount. None of my cadets had been shot, it seemed. Lucky us.

``The explosion should not have been that large,'' I got out
breathlessly. ``Or that intense.''

``It's because of the Name, I think,'' Kilian panted. ``Munitions are
alchemy, they can feed on other power sources.''

I closed my eyes. So, my trump card was more effective than previously
anticipated. I could work with that.

``Send Nauk a runner,'' I told the lieutenant. ``We start phase two
immediately.''
