Part 17 (1/2)

16.

Nila's entire body tingled.

It felt like stepping out of a springless carriage after going down a particularly long and b.u.mpy road. Her legs were weak and her abdomen warm, and everything she touched seemed to crackle slightly. Her mind was muddled, as if her head were jammed full of wool.

Adamat helped her out from beneath the wagon and she shook her arms, trying to get rid of the tingle.

”Are you sure you're all right?” Adamat asked.

”My body feels like it's been stuffed with bees. Is that normal?”

”No... no, I think not.” Adamat's reply was wooden. He watched the retreating Kez auxiliaries, his face slack.

”We won?”

Adamat nodded, but then stopped, as if thinking better of it. ”We won that engagement. Barely.” He pointed to the south, where dark clouds of powder smoke hung over the battlefield and the thunder of artillery fire continued almost without interruption. ”If not for your sorcery, we would have lost the camp. I imagine Bo will be proud.”

Distantly, Nila could sense something wrong with Adamat. But she felt a thrill go through her at that, and a cold knot settled in her stomach. Would Bo be proud? She could have killed herself. She should have killed herself, pulling that kind of stunt. Bo would be furious. Live to fight another day, he would have said. Don't take such risks.

But did it really matter what he thought? Did she fear some kind of punishment? Or did she fear his disapproval?

None of that mattered now. She could already hear the eerie moans of the wounded as the adrenaline of the battle wore off and men risked calling for aid. ”Adamat, we should help.”

”Hmm?”

Nila took a hard look at the old investigator. He'd saved her life, carrying her off the battlefield, but he hadn't asked for thanks. He seemed far away, stunned even.

”Were you hit on the head?” she asked.

”No. I don't think so.”

”You're sure? We could get a surgeon to look at you.”

Adamat patted his chest and arms. ”I'm fine. I don't think I was wounded at all, actually.”

”Just rest here,” Nila said. ”I'm going to try to help.”

”I don't think that's such a good idea.” Adamat shook himself and seemed to come out of his daze.

”There are wounded everywhere,” Nila said. ”They'll need as much help as can be had.” She looked around the camp. Several tents had been set alight to the west and Adran soldiers were doing their best to put out the fires before they spread. Wagoners tried to wrangle their horses and oxen, while surgeons rounded up everyone without a weapon to begin moving bodies.

Nila headed toward where the Wings' Fifth Brigade had met the Kez auxiliaries for the battle. The chaos and clamor only increased as she neared the battle site. When she pa.s.sed the tents and approached the earthen fortifications, the bodies of wounded and dead of both sides covered the ground like a carpet. The sight of it all nearly made her sick, but the smell was the worst of it. Blood, sulfur, s.h.i.+t, and gore. She'd visited a slaughterhouse once when a cook at the Eldaminse house had been ill. At the time, she'd thought it the most horrific stench she would ever encounter.

This was worse.

The terrible medley of smells was punctuated by the distinct odor of charred flesh. It clung to her nostrils, permeating the silk handkerchief she pressed to her face.

Adamat joined her. He'd lost some of that dazed look in his eyes, and gave her a worried glance.

”It's hard to comprehend, isn't it?” he said.

”Where are all the survivors? Where is the rest of the Wings' Fifth?” Nila hurried over to a man calling out for help, but by the time she reached him, his last breath had rattled from his throat. She backed away from the body.

”Over there,” Adamat said, pointing to a small knot of soldiers, many of whom were leaning on their comrades for support. Officers circled the men, separating out the wounded, trying to get the healthy back into columns. Adamat pointed to another group, this one looking even more ragged and disorganized. ”And over there. The Kez overwhelmed the entire Fifth before Adran reinforcements arrived. They'll be lucky if more than a thousand are able to still fight.”

Three thousand wounded and dead. And that was just among the Wings. The number staggered Nila. That was the entire staff of the Eldaminse household a hundred times over.

Nila caught sight of the colonel of the Wings' Fifth and found herself glad that the woman had survived the battle. She still held her saber in one hand but had lost her hat, and she clutched her other hand to her thigh as she called out orders. Soldiers began to respond to their officers, and gradually the column began to re-form.

”What are they doing?” Nila asked. ”Shouldn't they be helping the wounded?”

Adamat leaned wearily on his cane. ”They'll round up any Kez prisoners and place a few guards, but everyone else needs to be ready in case of another attack. The battle is still far from decided.” He peered toward the smoky southern horizon. ”I think.”

The idea of having all this slaughter and destruction happen again made Nila's stomach churn-and she'd been unconscious for most of the first fight. She struggled to keep down her breakfast. ”What in Kresimir's name is that smell?”

”War,” Adamat said.

”But... it's like cooked meat!”

Adamat raised his eyebrows at her. ”I don't think you...”

Nila's gaze rested on the blackened ground off to the southwest. It was an enormous swath, with little more than ash and dirt, and-was that bone? She blinked slowly at the view, remembering her legs pumping beneath her as she ran toward the Kez troops. She recalled the heat of the fire, and the pain and pleasure of the power that had coursed through her before her world had gone dark.

The realization nearly knocked Nila off her feet. That smell of burned flesh had been caused by her. She grabbed Adamat by the elbow. ”How many did I kill?”

”Nila, you saved many...”

”How many did I kill, Inspector?” she demanded. ”How many?”

Adamat looked at her with pity, which somehow made it all the worse. ”I can't be sure.”

”Guess.”

”You should let go, Nila,” he said, his voice strained.

Nila looked down to find her knuckles white from squeezing Adamat's arm. She s.n.a.t.c.hed her hand back. ”I'm sorry. Please, tell me how many I killed.”

”Thirty-five hundred. Maybe more. Maybe less. It looked like you torched the better part of a brigade.”

Nila bent over and heaved, emptying the contents of her stomach in one long retch. She heaved once more when she realized she had just vomited all over a dead man's legs. She felt Adamat's hand on her shoulder and let him help her up.

”I can't... I don't even...”