Necessary.
A day later, Jackdaw had something else to worry about. The monster pits hadn’t been filled. They hadn’t even been dug. That was… a problem. Mutated beasts were the Dominion’s main shock troops, perfect for demoralizing and harrying mundane opponents. Every Dominion campaign used them. It wasn’t just good strategy; it was fun. So why weren’t there any showing up now?
The only one Jackdaw talked to about it was Scorpion, and only because she brought it up, first. “You can stop making harnesses, Daw,” she murmured to him during midweek sanitation. The streams of water made it possible to talk, if you didn’t shout or whisper. “We’re not getting any more beasts.”
“It’s not up to me,” Jackdaw pointed out as he sprayed down another row of stolid soldiers. Carefully: too much water pressure, and he’d break bones, which he’d then just have to repair. “If my master says make harnesses, I make them. …We did leave that job unfinished, though. He must have been told something.”
“All the big-hats were. Message from back West: something about how this wasn’t really an army, it was just a hunting expedition.” Scorpion shook her head. “I only know about it because I was in the right place to hear some of the big-hats shouting about it. A couple of ‘em almost threw down over it.” Scorpion looked at him. “I won’t name names, but you’re in the clear.”
Which meant that it was the top Senior War Mages who had been almost dueling — and since Plaguebreath wasn’t one of them, it had to mean Pallid and Deathrune. Having the leader and the second in command ready to throw down with each other wasn’t unknown in Dominion warfare, but it was still a problem. A problem which would crap on the head of all the other War Mages, which was why Scorpion was telling him for free.