Flashwit squinted at the sergeant. ‘Beggin’ yer pardon, Sergeant, but where was you and your squad? Back at the Trench, I mean.’ He shot her a vicious look. ‘What difference does that make?’ ‘Well, you couldn’t have not seen him then. Skulldeath. He jumps high, y’see. He was the only one of us cutting Nah’ruk throats, right? Jumps high, like I said. See those eight notches on his left wrist?’ ‘Those burns?’ ‘Aye. One for each Nah’ruk he personally throat-cut.’ Gaunt-Eye snorted. ‘A liar, too, then. About what I figured.’ ‘But he never counted, Sergeant. Never does. Eight is what we saw him do,
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