Taniel found Major Doravir in the Wine’s End, an upper-class gentleman’s club that had been appropriated for use by the army as an officers’ mess hall. The room was lined with rich crimson damask and smelled heavily of cigar smoke. The armchairs scattered throughout the club had been upholstered with the furs of big cats from the Gurlish continent. In one corner, a sergeant was playing a grand piano. The conversation was somber and muted, though a few officers seemed to note Taniel’s entrance.
Taniel paused in the doorway and adjusted the collar of his dress uniform — a gift from Mihali. Most of his possessions had been lost when South Pike collapsed, including his various uniforms. Somehow the fat chef had gotten Taniel’s measurements and had had a new one made for him. It even had the proper silver buttons with powder kegs on them.
He examined the room slowly, hat tucked under his arm, and tried not to think about the provosts waiting outside for him. If he failed to apologize, he imagined they’d take him straight back to his quarters.
Taniel spotted Major Doravir near the bar, playing cards with an older officer of about fifty and two other majors. He took a deep breath and crossed the room, weaving his way through the chairs, giving a small nod to the few men who called out to him.
Major Doravir, her back to the wall, couldn’t possibly have missed his presence, but she didn’t bother to look up when Taniel stopped beside her table.
The older officer — a colonel by his uniform, though Taniel couldn’t place the face — was speaking.
“And I said to them, it’s the lack of noble blood. I understand Tamas’s cull was a political thing, but there’s no arguing that the lack of nobility among his officers has cheapened the whole army. By Kresimir, if he couldn’t…” The old officer paused, frowning at Taniel. “Ah, Captain. Fetch me another beer. Now, where was I? If he couldn’t… get to it, Captain, I’m thirsty.”
Taniel ignored the colonel. “Major Doravir,” Taniel said.
Doravir glanced up from her cards. “You’re being rude to Colonel Bertthur.”
Bertthur? Where did he know that name from? “My apologies, Colonel” — Taniel didn’t look at the man — “but I must speak with Major Doravir.”
“It’s ‘Colonel’ now,” Doravir said, touching the bars at her collar. “And whatever you have to say to me” — she set her cards facedown on the table and leaned back in her chair — ”can be said in public.”
Taniel swallowed a mouthful of bile. “Congratulations on your promotion, Colonel.”
“I say,” Bertthur stood up.
“Sit down, sir,” Taniel snapped. “This has nothing to do with you. Colonel Doravir, I’d like to offer my deepest apologies for any” — Taniel rolled the sentence around in his head, trying not to spit it out — ”insult I may have given you with my recent conduct.”
Taniel couldn’t help but notice that the murmur of conversation had completely disappeared. It felt as if a hundred sets of eyes were staring at him. They probably were.
“Colonel Bertthur is my husband,” Doravir said. “Apologize to him.”
Husband? The man must have been twenty years her senior.
“I did,” Taniel said. “And I apologized to you. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Taniel turned on his heel.
He paused when Bertthur cleared his throat. “Was that Taniel? Tamas’s brat?”
“Two-Shot,” Bertthur said. “Come back here this instant. Colonel Etan!”
Taniel froze. Etan was here?
“Colonel, isn’t this the man who got you crippled?”
“He’s the man who saved my life,” Etan’s voice returned.
“He saved my life, too!” someone shouted.
“And mine!”
“Bah. I remember you now, Two-Shot,” Bertthur said. “It must have been five, six years ago. A whiny little bastard. A piss-poor soldier. You’d rather run off with that dark-haired whore of yours, neglecting your training. I never saw anything in you. Huh. Looks like she didn’t either.”
A whore? Vlora? He might have wanted to call her that and worse when he’d caught her with that fop at the university, but Taniel would be damned if he’d let some fool officer go on about his love life. He balled his hands into fists and slowly took a breath to calm himself. He didn’t have to listen to this. He could just walk away.
“Bertthur, I think you’ve had enough,” Etan’s voice said. “Perhaps it’s time to retire for the evening.”
“Go to the pit, Etan,” Bertthur went on. “Taniel, I can see that things haven’t changed. No respect for authority. No military decorum. You’ve just traded one whore for another.”
“Bertthur!” Etan’s voice held some warning.
“But now it’s a savage whore! What will he think of next? I bet your father is rolling over in his grave every time you bed that bitch.”
Taniel’s whole body shook. The fury threatened to overwhelm him. He forced himself to remain calm. Slowly, he turned around.
