It took nearly a week to organise, but we had sacked the town after six days. Naturally, the locals weren't happy with us, but fear kept them in line. I had poured out Souls like water to bind the newly appointed council members, a few dozen more significant citizens, and the nearly three thousand artisans heading north under heavy escort to make Riverwheel a centre of learning and industry.

I still had a quarter of a million left. It made me grin every time I checked my stat sheet.

"Bloke, it's a great job!" I protested. Kril snickered, and Jagapan glared at us equally.

"How exactly is it a good offer, Mond? You're fucking abandoning me and my tribe!" the one-eyed man snapped. His left eye was steel-grey this morning.

"I need someone I can trust to hold this city, Jag. This will be a critical location; tons of materiel and supplies will pass south through this area as we push towards Urkash. I need a solid force in place," I offered.

"You want me to babysit shit-sitters while the other tribes get to win all the glory? I. Won't. Do. it."

"Jagapan, you'll also have an entire legion under your control! Your boys will be out winning fights all the time. Taking heads and earning glory against the bastards that try to cut off our supply lines!" Kril barked. He'd been paying attention to the lectures about how critical logistics would be for us, which I'd been giving to the chiefs. Most of them tended to go glassy-eyed after more than five minutes of conversation that didn't involve discussing who would get to ride in the van as we pushed south.

"More than that, you'll be our strategic reserve and get access to the best gear coming out of Riverwheel and Sulk's forge," I said. We'd received the first wagons a couple of days ago, piled high with new steel weapons, arrows, and a handful of the god-forged equipment Sulk was now steadily producing. Jagapan stroked his chin briefly, then spat his metal eyeball into his palm before popping it in his mouth. It was still gross, but at least he didn't spit as much as most of my other warriors.

"What about the equipment looted from Vialith?" he asked, his human eye shining more than the metal one usually did.

"Fine, but most of it is sized for Huskars, not humans. But you can have your pick, and I'll boost a few of your warriors up a fair few levels. Obviously, you need to be stronger than all of them." He spat out his steel eye and slotted it back into place, then spat on his palm and offered it to me. I shook it, concealing my distaste. You can take the savage out of the steppe, but you can't take the steppe out of the savage.

"Mond!" Mune called from outside my command tent. "You want to see this!" His voice was almost giddy. Mune was usually the most lighthearted of the Fangs, Jandak was dour, and Kos was serious, but this time the laughing warrior sounded like he might break out into giggles at any moment.

We emerged into the harsh sunlight. Summer was finally in full swing, and the further south we went, the hotter it would get. Water would become ever more important for the tens of thousands under my command, and wagons loaded with barrels were constantly trundling back and forth to the river. We'd planned to follow the watercourse south to avoid thirst becoming an issue, but we couldn't camp along the river or let anyone go for a swim when they liked and foul the water.

Mune grinned and led us through the remnants of the nomad city. Most of my people had moved south to where the advanced forces had set up bottlenecks on the river. We planned to push on in the next couple of days, and the noise of the legion fort being reinforced in anticipation of leaving it with a small garrison rang out over what remained of the felt tents of the nomads.

The ground was churned mud and shit where wagons and aurox had passed through, leaving brown swaths in their trail. My bare feet sank into the soft dirt, and my toes wiggled in pleasure at the feeling. Just outside the camp, Jandak was swinging Haylin around, gripping her in her armpits and whirling her like a toy. Bob had interposed himself between Haylin and the gaggle of misshapen metallic golems that were jumping back and forth in an attempt to protect their mistress.

Haylin had an unusual design aesthetic when it came to golems. One was a rolling sphere of silvery-grey metal that kept detaching razor-thin segments. They were only visible when they caught the light and gave it a halo of flowing, reflective threads that seemed to spin around the waist-high blob. Another was a cube with legs ending in sharpened points from each corner. It rolled from side to side as it moved, and the legs off the ground were poised to catch its weight or strike at an enemy. There wasn't a single anthropomorphic example among the dozen or so devices.

I moved over to Fay, who watched in amusement as Jandak greeted his bride like a schoolboy welcoming the first day of the summer holidays. His face was creased by an unaccustomed grin that split his head from ear to ear, and while I couldn't hear what he was saying, I knew Haylin could, as she switched between smiling and scowling, hugging and swatting at him.

When he put her down, the golems she'd created settled down, and Bob moved back to impose his spidery, be-tentacled form between Fay and the newcomers. The happy couple walked over, and I slipped an arm over Fay's shoulders. She reached up and rested a hand on the back of mine, giving me a small smile.

"Sister. I've done as you asked," said Haylin with a smirk.

"More Amalgam killers! Well done, Haylin!" Fay slipped from under my arm and rushed to hug her childhood friend. They fell into the babble of friends newly reunited, and Fay led Haylin off towards our tent.

"Bob. Can you please take control of these golems, bloke? Need to get them up to speed in hunting the shards of Hadesti's source," I called, and my war golem clattered over to the new arrivals. He'd fixed his damaged tentacle and claimed to be back at ninety-four percent combat efficiency. I had no idea how he calculated it.

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"Feel better, mate?" I asked Jandak and received a hug in response. My ribs creaked as he forgot his own strength.

"Bloke! Don't do that! You'd have killed a normal human!" I gasped, and he let go, giving me an unrepentant smile.

"Did you see how she's grown? That stomach houses a mighty warrior! He'll be taller than you, Mond!" He slapped me on the back. My new tunic was indeed fireproof and seemed impervious to cuts from my dagger and sword, but it did nothing to defray blunt forces. I rolled my right shoulder and wished I'd thought to wear my pauldron this morning.

"The baby isn't in her stomach." Trying to explain human anatomy to a steppe warrior was probably pointless. "Anyway, yeah, she's coming along well." I felt like we were discussing a broodmare, so I tried to change the conversation. "Who are we sending north next?"

"The women will decide. Not our business," Mune offered.

"Calpakters' warriors behaved themselves?" I asked, nodding my head towards the mohawk-sporting tribesmen who'd played escort to Haylin as she fulfilled her mission.

"Seems so. She had to break a couple of arms, but they figured it out pretty fucking fast!" Jandak chuckled evilly.

"We've got tactics to deal with the Amalgams now. We've got more weapons to implement those tactics. I think it's time you get to see the less honourable options," Kril offered, sucking air through his front teeth.

"I don't like it. It's shameful," Jandak grumbled.

"The assassins could be crucial. Trust me, a knife in the dark can end any number of enemies and save the lives of our people," I replied amiably.

"But poison? Purse-snatchers, aurox rustlers, and thieves. What use are such scum?" Mune demanded. We began heading out of the camp towards a smaller array of tents where my new unit had been based while they trained.

"Raiding for cattle is your national fucking sport!" I laughed.

"That's Grak, but you've kind of stopped that by sticking all the heads on spikes!" Jandak cut in. "I agree with Mune. This plan is dishonourable."

"You can't eat pride and you can't win wars with honour," I said casually, my tone indicating an end to this line of argument. We crossed the grassland, and as we drew closer, three figures rose up silently around us from the long grass. They had foregone the brightly coloured tunics of the steppe peoples and wore simple mottled clothing. Dark green and brown in mismatched patterns that broke up their silhouette and blended into the background.

"Well done. You got a lot closer that time! Let's talk. It's time for you to carry out your purpose," I called as Kril jumped at the sudden appearance of the men.

In the centre of the camp, another dozen men sat around a fire, passing a jug of water around the circle. They were all non-descript, a characteristic I thoroughly approved of, but they were also of mixed heritage. Their eyes lacked the usual shape of the tribes, looking much more like shit-sitters than most of my warriors. Their skin was the ruddy olive that the town-dwellers and the nomads shared, but the shapes of their faces lacked the angular lines of most warriors, favouring softer contours and narrower lips.

They would do. Kril had been educating them, the Fangs and I had trained them, and the coven had equipped them. Each man wore a necklace with stone beads strung on it that hung beneath his clothes. Each stone was enchanted with different spells. Elemental attacks, shapeshifting, light and shadow magic, storage spaces, and spatial tears.

"You've got your supplies?" I asked, and the shortest of them stood up and nodded to me. He was wiry and thinner than the others, but also the most vicious of them. These men had been selected for independence and violence, and Powtu had quickly risen to the top in the trials-by-combat they had endured to be chosen. He spat to one side, and I suppressed a grimace.

"Dreamer, there dropped off the last of the 'herbs' two nights back. We're ready to set out," Powtu grunted. A rumble of ascent went around my assassins. They were tired of training and needed to be let off the leash. With a thought, I reached out to the final member of their team. Glimpse fell from the sky and settled on my shoulder.

"Glimpse is going to guide you. He'll help you slip past any soldiers on the way. You're going to Urkash. Once you get there, you're to observe, pick your targets, and build plans. Glimpse will relay everything to me, and he'll let you know when it's time to act. What's the most important thing to remember?" I'd drilled this into them over and over.

"Know how to get the fuck out alive," they all chimed dutifully.

"Exactly. You are not disposable. It's a dangerous job but you aren't soulbound, none of Mortimer's slaves will be able to pick up on you but you've got the best fucking magic we can provide in your trinkets. It will be better than most of his minions. You'll be informed when it's time to act; until then, keep your heads down and infiltrate the city. I'll expect daily reports via Glimpse. Aresk bless you, secret warriors!" A clash of shields rang out, not just for us but across the entire army.

Legionaries raised their shields and spears and bellowed at the sky. Nomads whooped and screamed, the patrols whipping their ponies into a frenzy as they charged across the flatlands.

Powtu grinned and offered me a warrior's clasp. I locked wrists with him, controlling my strength. He squeezed, and I smiled in reply. With a chuckle, he let go and turned to his team.

"You heard the warlord! Get the ponies saddled." I opened my mouth, but he looked back at me and grinned. "We'll put the saddles in storage before we run into anyone. We'll have the crow, remember? No reason we should have sore arses for longer than needed, Lord!"

"Fine. Godspeed, gentlemen."

"We ain't gentle!" laughed one of the killers.

"He ain't even a man!" snapped another, earning a flicked rock to the head in response.

"We'll do what needs doing. Kill who needs killing, King Mond," Powtu said seriously as his team filed out. I reached up and ruffled the feathers on the back of Glimpse's neck.

The army had nomads and Huskar scouts. The feral Huskar were always roaming ahead, serving as tripwires for any ambushes or resistance we might encounter. We didn't need the crow, but I was reluctant to let him go so far for so long.

It will be fine, Ray. It will be good to see a proper city.

I gave him another scritch, and then he hopped over to land on Powtu's shoulder and cawed loudly. The man stuck a finger in his ear, and I grinned.

"He does that sometimes. Remember: he's not just eyes in the sky. He's a powerful mage as well. Shit goes sideways, he's going to be burning the place down behind you as you run."

"Got the mana potions in here for him, Lord." Powtu tapped the string of simple beads under his tunic. I nodded, and we stood to watch them mount up to ride south. Standing silently with the Fangs and Kril took me back to simpler times. Our journey back to Areskit from the mammoth hunt had had many such moments.

It seemed like years ago. I'd been an outsider struggling to find my place among my new people back then. Now they marched to my tune and… I reached for the vast spider web of bonds in my mind. Now, thousands were literally tied to my Soul. I wouldn't let my people fall into Mortimer's empire of death. I'd kill every motherfucker, every monster, he sent our way. The Sykareskyn tribes, indisputable lords of the steppe, would become lords in truth as we conquered the south.

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