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\hypertarget{chapter-13-order}{%
\chapter{Order}\label{chapter-13-order}}



\epigraph{``Mercy might be the mark of a great man, but then so's a
tombstone.''}{Extract from the personal memoirs of Dread Emperor Terribilis II}



\emph{It was dark inside the Commander's quarters, the only light coming
from the candle on the woman's desk. He stepped behind her quietly, his
Name's power silencing the sounds of his armour as he raised his blade.
The dark-haired woman stilled for the barest fraction of a moment, and
Squire knew then that his chances of taking care of her quickly had
evaporated into thin air.}

``\emph{Quiet or not,'' the Commander spoke with a voice that bore the
soft accent of the Deoraithe,``you reek of blood.''}

\emph{Squire's blade came down but the woman spun, hand grasping for the
longknife on her desk and batting the killing blow aside at the last
moment. The green-eyed man sighed and shifted his footing as she rose to
her feet.}

``\emph{I do hope that was a figure of speech,'' he said mildly. ``I
bathe every few days.''}

\emph{The Commander bared her teeth in mockery.}

``\emph{Some things don't wash off with water, Praesi,'' she replied.}

\emph{His blade flicked forward, tasting the edge of her defence and
finding it unfortunately steady. No less than he'd expected, of course
-- the woman's Name was one that could only be earned through years of
hard fighting, and not even Ranger's tutelage was enough to overcome the
disparity between their levels of experience. Even nurtured, talent
could only bring you so far.}

``\emph{So tell me, assassin,'' Commander jeered, ``what was it that
finally pushed the Chancellor to send a killer after me?''}

\emph{The longknife was a blur of sharpened steel in her hand and she
stepped forward, turning a thrust into a vicious flick of the wrist when
he stepped around it, dancing away before he could strike back and
leaving behind a shallow cut on his cheek.}

``\emph{Was it the punitive expedition on the Red Boars?'' she asked.}

\emph{Squire have ground fluidly, trying to find an angle where his
sword's longer reach would be able to come into play. It was unfortunate
that his way into the quarters had meant travelling light, because
fighting an opponent this dangerous without his shield was quickly
becoming more than he'd bargained for.}

``\emph{No,'' Commander mused, ``it's not like we've never done that
before. Which means someone opened their damned mouth about my plan for
the Lesser Steppes.''}

\emph{Squire smiled.}

``\emph{I might have heard a thing or two,'' he agreed. ``But you seem
to operate under a misconception, Commander.''}

``\emph{Illuminate me, then, assassin,'' she replied coldly.}

``\emph{Not Assassin,'' he corrected her. ``Squire.''}

\emph{That was when the bells started ringing. Three rings, a pause and
then three rings again: the signal for a fire in the fortress.
Apprentice had already started his work, then, which meant it was time
to wrap this up: Grem's clansmen would be in position soon. His opponent
spat a few words in the Old Tongue. From the intonation, he would
venture a guess they were nothing particularly polite.}

``\emph{So you're one of the pups who wants to be the next Black
Knight,'' she growled. ``You made an error in coming here tonight, boy
-- it'll be my pleasure to nip you in the bud before you become a real
problem.''}

\emph{Which was, he was forced to concede, a very real possibility. When
she moved forward again, it was with the weight of cold anger behind her
attacks -- again and again he was forced to give ground, pushed out of
her quarters until he was at the head of the stairs. Commander slipped
under his guard when he overextended, ignoring the deep cut he carved
right above her ear to close the distance and slam her palm into his
chest. Had anyone but a Named done that on full plate they would have
broken their wrist for their trouble, but instead her blow sent him
tumbling down the stairs. About halfway down he managed to roll back to
his feet, but before he could bring up his sword she nearly sliced
through his jugular, forcing him to scramble back desperately. In a
matter of moments she'd driven him all the way out to the inner
courtyard, and now they both knew the game was up.}

``\emph{If you kneel,'' she said flatly, ``I'll make it quick.''}

``\emph{If this were a story,'' Squire told her, ``this would be the
moment where I revealed I was left-handed all along.''}

``\emph{Are you?'' the dark-haired woman asked gruffly.}

``\emph{No,'' he replied, sheathing his sword. ``I'm a practical man at
heart, you see.''}

\emph{The first arrow took Commander in the side of the throat, punching
straight through and coming out the other side. Ranger's work. The short
bow volley from Grem's clansmen followed a heartbeat later, filling her
with so many arrows he could no longer make out her face.}

\emph{That's the thing with practical sorts, Commander,'' Squire told
her gently. ``We cheat.''}

I woke up in a room I didn't recognize.

I could still feel the cold of the northern night on my skin, cheek
still stinging where the Commander's longknife had drawn blood. That
particular sensation paled in comparison to the rest of my pains: my
entire body was a raw wound, the worst of it centred around the long
gash that snaked across my entire torso. I pushed myself up against the
cushions, wincing as a flash of agony went through me. Tossing the
blanket covering me aside, I took a closer look at the bandage-covered
cut the Lone Swordsman had gifted me with: it was an angry red and would
scar rather gruesomely, but at least it wasn't bleeding. The rest of my
body bore no marks, which sent a shiver of unease down my spine: I'd
been healed by Zacharias enough to know that magic couldn't heal this
well without dipping a toe in unsavoury waters. I was alone in the room,
I saw as I took a look around: sparsely furnished in the Callowan style,
no windows and I couldn't hear so much as a hint of noise from the
outside. Everything in here smelled of blood, I noticed with a jolt of
surprise. I hadn't noticed because I'd smelled the same thing in the
dream, and wasn't that a creepy thought?

I forced myself into a sitting position at the edge of the bed, pushing
down a pained groan. The identity of the Squire in my dream wasn't
exactly hard to deduce: Black still looked more or less the same, if a
little older, and there was no way I could confuse those eerie green
eyes with anyone else's. There'd been too many details to the vision for
it to be just a fantasy cooked up by my mind while I slept, though: even
now, closing my eyes, I could still hear the low voice of the Commander
and the shriek of those arrows as they fell form above. \emph{A Name
dream, then.} My mind still felt too fuzzy to puzzle out exactly what
was going on here, but I knew that there was bound to be a reason for
it. When Black had shoved a sword through my chest, I'd ended up
confronting two versions of me that could have been. \emph{So the dream
shows me the previous Squire killing a hero when I just let one go.} A
little heavy-handed, as far as hints went, but I was not a subtle girl
by nature: it made sense that my Name would be equally as blunt. I
passed a hand through my tangled locks with a grimace. Gods, I smelled
awful. I needed a bath, or at least a change a clothes.

The door creaked open and Captain came in, ducking her head under the
threshold. The sight drew a smile out of me: very few things must be
Captain-sized, outside of wherever the Hells ogres lived.

Good,'' the warrior grunted. ``You're awake.''

Barely,'' I agreed. ``How long was I out?''

It's been two days since your little stunt,'' she said. ``You came
damned close to never waking up.''

I'd suspected as much, but it still sent a shiver down my spine to hear
it said out loud.

Should I sent a thank you note to the Legion healers, then?''

Captain snorted.

You tore your body up way past what they can handle,'' she informed me.
``Luckily we had a blood mage from the Swiftfoot tribe in camp -- still
took three bleedings to get you back to something manageable.''

Bleedings. Gods Above, I hoped she wasn't saying what I thought she did.

You mean they bled \emph{me}, right?''

The olive-skinned woman graced me with a quelling look.

Don't be obtuse, girl,'' she grunted. ``You had little enough of the
stuff left in your veins. Black had them spill the lifeblood of three.
Rough stuff, but it usually works.''

I felt my stomach sink and let out a ragged breath. Three people dead
just to heal me, and Captain didn't even seem to think of it as
particularly notable.

Who were they?'' I croaked out. ``The people that died to save me.''

She shrugged. ``Death row prisoners,'' she told me. ``Never learned
their names, but Scribe would probably know. Had to file some papers to
requisition them.''

Requisition them, like a resource. Same as if they'd asked for a new set
of armour or some sewing equipment. \emph{Like they were things, not
people.} Oh, they weren't likely to have been very nice sorts -- they
wouldn't have gotten a death sentence otherwise -- but at the end of the
day what I saw was a Praesi spending Callowan lives like currency. Three
stranger's lives spent to preserve mine, without a second thought. Would
I have agreed to it if I'd been awake, I wondered? It disgusted me that
I was no longer as certain of my answer as I would have been a month
ago. Captain's presence suddenly felt intolerable, a blight to
everything I was trying to accomplish. Just another cog in the Empire's
machine, grinding down the lives of the people they'd conquered.

And yet, what could I do? For all that I itched to lash out, I was all
too aware that even at my best I'd never manage to do more than scratch
her armour. She was a woman who'd faced entire battalions of knights and
slaughtered them effortlessly. They'd been kind, Captain and Black, so
easy-going and helpful I'd ended up forgetting I was dealing with
monsters. \emph{Calamities, the monsters even other monsters fear.} And
the worst of it was that we were on the same side. I'd chosen,
willingly, to align myself with people who saw human sacrifice as just
another tool in their arsenal. The taste of bile in my mouth drowned out
the smell of blood, and I suddenly felt like throwing up. It was one
thing to make the decision to sacrifice lives in the abstract, but now
that I was faced with the reality of it\ldots{} How could I have ever
thought good would come of this? \emph{Look upon the foundations of your
better world, Catherine Foundling. Another three corpses for the pile,
and they will not be the last.} I retched, vomiting all over the bed.
The concern on Captain's face was the most hateful sort of kindness I'd
ever seen. My stomach settled after a moment and I wiped my mouth
against the blanket.

I'll talk to Scribe, then,'' I muttered, shivering.

I'd remember the names, carve them deep enough I could never forget.
Find out if they had families, people who'd depended on them: an insipid
way of repaying a debt that ran so deep, but what else could I do? I
still had my savings from the Pit and would not use so much as single
speck of Imperial gold for this.\emph{My debt, my penance. Gods have
mercy on my soul.}

You can do that later,'' Captain grunted. ``Put a tunic on, Black wants
you outside.''

I felt too drained to tell her that all of them could go fuck
themselves, as far as I was concerned.There was no dresser, but someone
had neatly folded some clothes on top of the chair in the corner. I
forced myself to my feet, rebuffing Captain's helping hand when I
swayed. I was in no mood to take help from Praesi. Changing my
underclothes with someone else in the room was almost nostalgic, a
reminder of the days where'd I shared a dormitory with the other
orphanage girls. \emph{Nobody set out clothes for me then, though.} It
bothered me that I'd stopped noticing luxuries like that: they crept up
on you, the trappings of power. One inch at a time, until you forgot
you'd ever lived without them. My lips twisted in distaste when I saw
the woollen tunic I was expected to wear was dyed black. It felt like a
claim was being made on me, and I'd always balked at those\emph{.} I
buttoned up the collar anyway and smoothed my face out of emotions. I'd
get clothes of my own as soon as I got the occasion.

What does he need me for?'' I asked Captain as I finished slipping on my
boots.

Just needs you to be seen out and about,'' the gargantuan Taghreb
replied. ``Rumours are you're dead, and people want a face to put to the
fire.''

I blinked. Shit, the goblinfire.

That's still burning?'' I asked.

They managed to cordon it off,'' Captain said, ``but almost half the
quarter went up in flames. Istrid had her legionaries evacuate the
people in time, at least.''

A small relief, that I wouldn't have to add more lives to my tally so
soon after the last ones. I tightened my belt and made sure my knife's
sheath was properly placed. No sword, but that was to be expected after
the Lone Swordsman's blade cut into it.

Let's go and get this over with,'' I muttered, more exhausted than even
my wounds warranted.

The inn we were apparently in was deserted except for a handful of
Blackguards covering the entrance. I ignored them and followed the
brown-eyed warrior into the streets. I heard the crowd way before we got
to the Court of Swords. The large paved plaza had once been where the
counts of Summerholm held justice, though the Imperial governess had
preferred the fortress for that purpose. The name came from the way
Count Harlay the Grim had taken the arms of a slaughtered Praesi army
and piled them up to offer the king of the time instead of the taxes
owed that year. What must have been the better part of Summerholm's
population had gathered in the Court and the sound of all those
thousands whispering among themselves was almost deafening. Gallows had
been erected in the centre, surrounded by a square of legionaries six
men deep. Black sat astride his mount in front of the structure, Scribe
standing next to him still as a statue. For once, she didn't seem to be
paying attention to anything but what was happening in front of her.

The people parted in front of Captain like a receding tide, falling
silent at the sight of the tall Named striding across the stone. From
the corner of my eye I could see people pointing at me when they thought
I couldn't see. \emph{Squire}, I heard whispered. \emph{Traitor} came up
nearly as often, and the epithet wouldn't have stung as much had there
not been a grain of truth to it. I kept my eyes fixed straight ahead and
matched Captain's stride as best I could. Black was in full armour, I
noticed as soon as we drew close -- he wore a helmet, for once, a heavy
piece ornamented to look like a grinning devil.

Squire,'' he greeted me, still looking towards the gallows.

Black,'' I replied. ``What the Hells is this?''

The restoration of order,'' he said.

The gallows were no more than thirty feet away, so I could see who was
on them now. There must have been fifty people standing in two lines
behind the nooses, and I recognized every single one of them. Patrons
from the Lost Crown, a handful I'd glimpsed in the Royal Foundry who
must have survived the night.

You can't do this,'' I said urgently. ``Not all of them were members of
the Sons. Some just had sympathies and -''

And so were party to the assassination of an Imperial governess,'' he
interrupted me flatly. ``High treason, which fetches the noose.''

You already knew who the members were,'' I spoke pleadingly. ``You could
have hung them then, no need to do it now.''

Green eyes stared me down through the holes in his helmet.

They were tolerable, so long as they were harmless,'' he stated. ``They
are no longer harmless.''

This is butchery,'' I hissed. ``You'll be hated for this.''

I am already hated in this city,'' he noted. ``An acceptable loss, if I
am also feared.''

I reached for the power of my Name but there was \emph{nothing}. Not a
drop of the power I'd used to crush my enemies, even as I reached as I
deep as I could.

You bound my Name,'' I accused him.

Your powerlessness is of your own doing,'' Black replied. ``You took
action that ran against your Name's nature, and so damaged your access
to it. Something related to your confrontation with the hero, I assume.
No body was found.''

So you're punishingme by killing Callowans?'' I snarled.

I am hanging traitors who took up arms against the Tower,'' he corrected
sharply. ``I am not in the habit of wasting lives over petty lessons.''

I'd never hated anybody more than I hated the man in that moment.
Sitting there on his horse, looking down on me from above. He stood for
every fucking sneering Praesi I'd come across, eyeing me like I was just
cattle in their herd. Pretending the laws he upheld were anything else
than rules the Wasteland used to fix the game so they'd win every time.

I will have no part in this,'' I spoke, voice so cold and furious I
could hardly believe it was my own.

My fingers closed against the handle of my knife. His stare never
wavered and I realized how absurd I must have seemed to him, the girl
who couldn't even use her Name and was still threatening to pull a knife
on the Black Knight. There were two Calamities standing within ten feet
of me, and even through the haze of rage that fact managed to sink in. I
loosened my fingers.

I will have no part in this,'' I repeated, more calmly.

I might not be able to stop this, but I didn't have to pretend I
endorsed it in any way. I turned to leave, to go anywhere but here-

\textbf{Stop}.''

I thought I knew fear. I'd felt it the night we first met, when the
Knight's power had choked the very air of the alleyway. I was wrong. Oh
so very wrong. My limbs froze and my heart spasmed. Dark things lurked
just out of my sight, thirsting for my death.

\textbf{Turn around}.''

I did. I couldn't even think about not obeying. The monster studied me
without a speck of emotion in his eyes, the almost indolent amusement he
always displayed sliding off his face like water off a clay mask. There
was no humanity in the thing I was facing, and finally I could say I'd
met the Black Knight. The real one.

Did you think this was a game, Catherine? That actions would not have
consequences?'' the green-eyed man murmured. ``Power cuts both ways.
Authority comes with responsibility. Ambitions such as your demand
sacrifice, so \textbf{stand here} \textbf{and watch}.''

My body did. Even as I screamed inside, my body did. A hush went over
the crowd as General Sacker scuttled up onto the gallows, giving her
legionaries a sharp gesture to get on with it. Levers were pulled, the
ground opened beneath the prisoners and twenty-five Callowans died of a
broken neck. Thousands stood in the Court, and you could have heard a
pin drop. Legionaries untied the corpses as soon as the last one stopped
twitching, letting them fall down the hatches as they pushed the second
row of prisoners forward. I read their faces one after another, too
dazed to be properly horrified. In the middle of the line stood a
slender blond girl with grey eyes. \emph{Elise.}Our eyes met and
recognition flickered across her face, followed by pleading. \emph{Gods,
forgive me. I didn't know. You have to believe me, I didn't know.} A
heartbeat passed and the beautiful face turned to disgust. She spat on
the ground as the noose was settled around her neck.

General Sacker gestured again and she died.

The crowd let out a long breath, and just like that it was over. Tens of
thousands stood in the Court of Swords, surrounding less than two
hundred legionaries, but as the last corpse dropped under the gallows
they started to disperse. Cowed, just like me.

We leave with the noon bell,'' Black spoke calmly. ``Get back to the
barracks by then.''

Without another word he rode away, his steel-clad horse obeying the
unspoken commands of his Name. I staggered away numbly, my legs taking
me away from the Court. It didn't matter where, as long as it wasn't
here. \emph{Anywhere but here.} How long I wandered I couldn't say, but
I ended up at the bottom of a dead-end alley. No one else was in sight.
I leaned against a wall, forehead coming to rest against the roughly
hewn stone. Slowly I fell to my knees, welcoming the burn of my wound as
my body stretched. I was so very, very tired. Over two hundred miles
stood between me and home, and suddenly I was aware of how alone I
really was. Surrounded by people who hated me, people I'd willingly set
aside for the company the monsters killing them. And now here I was,
without even the protection of the Name I'd bartered my soul away for.

A dry sob wracked my throat and I rocked myself slowly, closing my eyes.
I'd done this to myself, feeling clever and in control every step of the
way. It had felt like a dream, really. One colourful absurdity after
another, Names and visions and claims. The stuff legends were made of.
Maybe that was why it had come so easily to me -- I couldn't quite
believe it was real, so I treated it like a story. I'd bantered with
villains who'd soaked the pages of history books in blood like I was an
equal instead of an ant they could step on without a second thought.
Just the memory of the way I'd mouthed off on the first night was enough
to chill my blood now, now that I knew I'd been speaking to the
green-eyed creature I'd met in the Court instead of the lackadaisical
villain I'd thought I was facing. There was no believing this was dream
now. \emph{Not when I can still hear the sound of Callowan necks
snapping under the rope.} Tear fell down my cheeks and I let them.

If this wasn't worth crying about, what was?