A Secret Man of Blood

Chapter Twenty-Eight

"...It's not cheating if the woman you're having sex with looks like your girlfriend," Sig insists.

"Oh, look," Anya replies, pointing at Sig. "It's the ghost of relationship future, warning us all what could happen if—"

Sig laughs. "Yes, very good."

Indigo and Squad enter the tent, Squad reeling as he smells something foul. "What a weird combination of odours: it smells like a skunk died and someone's thrown it in a pot of vegetables."

Sig stops stirring his pot and looks up with a smile. "You have a fine nose, sir – broth?"

"...I'll pass."

Sig tries to tempt him. "You don't know what you're missing."

"I'm grateful about that." Squad turns to Anya. "What were you two talking about, Sig's usual depravity?"

Sig lifts up a hand in protest. "You two need to be careful about saying this stuff. People will start to associate me with—"

"Sexism?" Anya suggests.

"Racism?" Squad adds.

"Bestiality?" Indigo completes the trio.

"Ah, yes, the planned names of my first three children," Sig jokes, turning to Indigo. "So, how is the big war hero? Tired of revolutionising the way magic is used in warfare?"

"I think you mean Power," Squad corrects, with a smartarse grin.

"What's the difference?" Sig asks.

"Power is what military people call magic when they want to use it as artillery or for quick-strike missions," Indigo informs him. "Magic in general is a much gentler and more varied thing than Power."

Sig nods. "Interesting...and you'll notice I used the word interesting incorrectly. Anyway, enough about this war, I've got a date with Sergeant Akiri tonight."

Anya laughs. "Sergeant Akiri? I wouldn't worry about it. All you have to do to impress her is change your underwear once every three months."

"It's more than that, Anya."

"Once every four months."

Sig guffaws, shaking his head. "Harsh. But I won't take your insults too personally – after all, I'm someone who's accustomed to compromise..."

*

Sig stands in a field beside a dandy with a ridiculously long and thin moustache. The dandy wears an outrageous pink outfit and has a duelling sword at his side, slapping Sig in the face with a glove.

"You have offended my honour, sir! I demand satisfaction!"

Sig sighs and rolls up his sleeves. "Fine – but just a handjob."

*

"...What does that have to do with anything?" Anya asks.

"Remember the fable of the boy who cried wolf?" Sig enquires.

"Everybody knows that—"

"There was a shepherd boy who was tasked with guarding the village flock from wolves," Sig presses on, unperturbed. "On the first night he decided to prank the village by crying, "Wolf!" and when the villagers ran to help, he laughed at them. The second night, he cried "Wolf!" again, but had played the same trick, and when the villagers rushed to help, the boy laughed at them. On the third night, a wolf did appear and the boy was terrified, so he cried "Wolf!" and what do you think happened?" Sig pauses dramatically to let the moral sink in. "That's right, the villagers showed up, killed the wolf and they all lived happily ever after. People are idiots."