Did she know? Of course she knows. Crimes are the meat of our conversations, and we’ll chew the gristle over and over again, in the belief that, with enough jawing, the flavour will change and the bitterness will go away. The sour misery of it all … listen! Just fade into nothing, will you? Oh, we’re a stubborn lot, especially with those faiths promising escape.
‘They ain’t all cowards,’ Rebble said, still grinning, but something was lit in his eyes.
She was sharp enough to notice and stepped back. ‘If you say so, sir.’
‘I do. More to the point, some killings, well, they just happen. In a red haze.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘That’s how forgetting and remembering becomes the worst part of it.’
Now, at last, Wareth saw the woman pale. ‘You have the truth of that,’ she said in a low, frail voice.
Then Rebble’s grin spread into a smile. ‘But me, I don’t have that problem. I remember every poor bastard I went and killed. The ones I meant to, the ones I didn’t. If I gave you all their names, would you know which was which? No. Nobody would. Because it really makes no difference to anybody, not even me. That’s my problem, you see. What I can’t remember, no matter how hard I try, are my reasons for killing anybody. The arguments, I mean, the ones that broke out and turned bad.’ He shook his head, showing an exaggerated expression of bafflement. ‘Not a single reason, not one.’
Sighing, Wareth looked away. Rebble’s new habit was making speeches, but none of them left a listener feeling at ease. Is there anything beneath all that, Rebble? Something you’re trying to
tell us? Something you need to confess? What’s stopping you?
Rance simply nodded in answer to Rebble’s words.
The tall, wiry man then turned and walked over to Listar. ‘Let’s go find the dead man’s tent, Listar, and see what’s to be seen.’ He glanced over at Wareth. ‘It’s almost tenth bell, sir.’
‘I know,’ Wareth replied. ‘Go on then, the two of you.’
He watched the two men head off towards the White Crag block.
‘Can I go now, sir?’
‘No. Come with me.’
She surprised him by offering no objection, and fell in at his side when he set out for the command centre. ‘Better you than him, sir.’
‘Just smile and nod, no matter what he says.’
‘I’d forgotten about Listar,’ she said.
‘Rebble figured you were looking to wound, I think. He didn’t like it.’ Wareth hesitated, and then said, ‘Listar isn’t a coward. He wants to die. He won’t take a guard at his tent at night, despite these murders. Every time we find ourselves standing over another body, he’s disappointed that it’s not him lying there at our feet.’
Rance grunted, but said nothing.
‘Not much longer now, I think.’
‘What?’
‘We’ve got a problem with desertions, Rance. And not enough old Legion soldiers to ring the camp. Besides which, the deal was freedom, only to win it we’d have to serve, but given the chance we’ll take the freedom and Abyss take the serving part. I think it will all fall apart.’
‘So why make me do anything? Just let me go back to my tent—’
‘You weren’t anywhere near your tent when looking at that body,’ Wareth observed as they drew closer to the larger cluster of tents at the camp’s centre. ‘Not if you’re in the White Crag block.’
‘I was just wandering, sir. They won’t accept me, you know.’
‘Who’s the worst of your lot, Rance, for making trouble with you?’
‘There’s one. Velkatal. She dropped six babies, then left them to run wild. Four were dead before coming of age, and the other two ended up in the mines and died in them. But to hear her tell it, she was the world’s best mother.’
‘Fine. Make her your Rebble.’