Part 4 (2/2)
She'd just killed a man by burning through his entire head. With her hand.
”We'll leave the luggage. I'd set fire to the carriage, but it would just attract attention all the sooner. They've arrested Oldrich and his men. We have to go find Adamat.”
Nila looked at her hand, clean now of the charred gore. The phantom stickiness of the blood clung between her fingers. She forced herself to look up into Bo's eyes. She had to be strong. ”And if he's captured as well?”
”We'll save him if we can. If not, he's on his own.”
”And all of Oldrich's soldiers?”
Bo looked about them furtively. ”Not even I can get fifteen men out of an army encampment. They'll have to face the firing squad for us. Now, let's go.” He pulled at her arm.
”No,” Nila said.
”What do you mean, 'no'?”
”You-we-brought them into this. We'll get them out.”
”d.a.m.n it, Nila,” Bo hissed. ”We'd have to have help, and we simply don't have it.”
Nila tilted her head to one side. ”Yes we do,” she said.
CHAPTER.
5.
Adamat was only able to spend about three hours asking questions before the provosts came for him.
He was in the middle of speaking with a young sergeant about her cousin in the Third Brigade under General Ket's command when he felt a hand at his elbow. He turned, expecting to find Nila or Bo there with some kind of news, but instead looked over and up-and up some more-at the military police officer standing beside him. The man had a barrel chest, and when he spoke, his voice sounded like an echo.
”Inspector Adamat?”
”Yes.”
”You're to come with me.”
Adamat grasped the head of his cane tightly and raised his eyebrows. ”I'm sorry, I'm just in the middle of an interview. You'll have to wait.” He turned back to the sergeant, hoping that was enough to put off the provost.
”Now,” the man's voice rang out.
The sergeant leaned over to Adamat. ”Inspector, you better go with him.”
Adamat let out a small sigh, gathered his hat in his hands, and faced the provost. ”What's this about?”
”You're to come with me.”
”Yes, I gathered that much. I'm an Adran citizen and I have the right to ask why I'm being gathered by an officer of the peace.”
The provost tilted his head to one side. ”This is a military jurisdiction and you have no such rights as would be afforded to you by an Adran provost. Now, will you come along or shall I drag you?”
Not as daft as he looked, unfortunately. Adamat gave him a firm nod. ”I'll come along, but under protest.”
”Protest all you like. This way.”
Adamat made sure to grumble loudly in an inconvenienced sort of way as they headed through the camp. Inside, though, his heart was hammering. He had expected the provosts to come after him sooner or later. After all, if Hilanska was indeed keeping secrets, he wouldn't want someone snooping around. Adamat hadn't expected them to be so quick about it.
Had Hilanska questioned Oldrich? Or perhaps one of his soldiers had recognized Bo? There were too many things that could go wrong, it was impossible to plan for them all. Perhaps the girl had lost her nerve and run to Hilanska herself.
Adamat dismissed the last option. That laundress, whoever she was, had steel in her eyes.
The camp stockade was nothing more than a trio of prison wagons near where the brigade's cavalry hitched their horses for the night. Adamat was led over to the closest and one of the guards unlocked the door.
The big provost took Adamat by the shoulder and pushed him toward the wagon. Adamat gritted his teeth, wanting to reprimand the man, but knew this was no time to be making enemies. All three wagons were already full-of Oldrich and his men.
Adamat's cane was taken away and he stepped inside.
Oldrich regarded him sourly. ”I see the Privileged's plan is off to a wonderful start,” he said when the guards had gone on to do their rounds.
”When did they come for you?” Adamat asked.
”Not more than half an hour ago.”
”Did they say why?”
Oldrich shook his head. ”They got us while we were split up. Some of the boys were at the mess, two others at the latrine. It was all done very quiet, and they were sure to outnumber us by three to one.” He leaned over to the bars of the prison wagon and spit. ”It's bad when they come quietly. The provosts love to flaunt their power.”
”They're acting like we're enemies of the state,” one of the other soldiers said. There was a round of nods, and he added, ”We wouldn't get treated like this by the field marshal.”
Oldrich looked over his shoulder. ”The field marshal isn't here,” he said. ”You boys just remember-you were following orders. If anyone's going to take the fall it'll be me.” He examined Adamat, as if wondering if it was worth getting court-martialed or worse on his behalf.
By the sullen silence among the men, Adamat guessed that they'd had this conversation already.
”When are they going to question us?” Adamat asked. He had little experience with provosts, but he could only imagine the worst: Hilanska wanted to cover something up. He'd torture them all to find out what they knew, and then have them executed quietly.
”Depends on how big of a hurry they're in. And how big of a hornet's nest you kicked by asking questions. Could be they'll just hold us a couple of days and then let us go.” Oldrich didn't sound optimistic about that outcome.
The night drew on and Adamat watched the tents, waiting to see Hilanska's provosts return to collect them for questioning. The hours pa.s.sed. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Oldrich was probably right: Hilanska just wanted to keep them from complicating things. He needed them out of the way and that was it. They were still in a tight place, but the belief helped Adamat to relax.
He was just beginning to doze, his shoulders up against the cold steel of the prison wagon walls, when he heard a hiss behind his ear.
He turned to find Bo right behind him. ”How long have you been here?” Bo asked through the bars.
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