{"product_id":"the-infernal-battalion-isbn-9780593101896","title":"The Infernal Battalion","description":"\u003cb\u003eMilitary might and arcane power clash in Django Wexler’s thrilling new Shadow Campaigns novel.\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e The Beast, the ancient demon imprisoned beneath the fortress-city of Elysium for a thousand years, has been loosed on the world. It absorbs mind after mind, spreading like a plague through the north. The fell army it has raised threatens the heart of Vordan, and it is under the command of the Beast’s greatest prize: legendary general Janus bet Vhalnich.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e As Queen Raesinia Orboan and soldiers Marcus D’Ivoire and Winter Ihernglass grapple with the aftermath of a hard-fought military campaign, they soon discover a betrayal they never could have foreseen. The news arrives like a thunderbolt: Janus has declared himself the rightful Emperor of Vordan. Chaos grips the city as officers and regiments are forced to declare for queen or emperor.\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e Raesinia must struggle to keep her country under control and risks becoming everything she fought against. Marcus must take the field against his old commander, a man who has seemed an unbeatable strategist. And as Winter recovers from her injuries and mourns her losses, she knows the demon she carries inside her might be the only thing standing between the Beast and the destruction of everything in its path....\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cb\u003ePraise for the Shadow Campaigns Novels\u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \u003cb\u003e \u003c\/b\u003e\u003cbr\u003e “A fascinating world of dust and bayonets and muskets...and magic.”—S. M. Stirling,\u003ci\u003e New York Times\u003c\/i\u003e Bestselling Author of the Novels of the Change\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \"Gritty, brutal, and yet wonderfully intimate...exceptional military fantasy.\"—Jason M. Hough, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e Bestselling Author of \u003ci\u003eZero World\u003c\/i\u003e\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “Succeeding volumes may end up doing for the Napoleonic Wars what George R. R. Martin did for the Wars of the Roses. Highly recommended.”—Anthony Ryan, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times\u003c\/i\u003e Bestselling Author of the Raven’s Shadow Novels\u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e “\u003ci\u003eThe Thousand Names \u003c\/i\u003eis marvelously written, ingeniously conceived, and great fun. Without a doubt the best book of [the] year.”—Simon R. Green, \u003ci\u003eNew York Times \u003c\/i\u003eBestselling Author of the Secret Histories Novels \u003cbr\u003e  \u003cbr\u003e \"Wexler has written another excellently entertaining novel, filled with battles and politics and personalities....It subverts, interrogates, or outright inverts a good few tropes associated with epic fantasy.\"—Tor.com\u003cb\u003eDjango Wexler\u003c\/b\u003e is the author of the Shadow Campaigns novels, including \u003ci\u003eThe Infernal Battalion\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Guns of Empire\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Price of Valor\u003c\/i\u003e, \u003ci\u003eThe Shadow Throne\u003c\/i\u003e, and \u003ci\u003eThe Thousand Names\u003c\/i\u003e. His forthcoming novel, \u003ci\u003eDungeons \u0026amp; Dragons: Spelljammer: Memory's Wake\u003c\/i\u003e, will release in June 2024. He graduated from Carnegie Mellon University in Pittsburgh with degrees in creative writing and computer science, and worked for the university in artificial intelligence research. When not planning Shadow Campaigns, he wrangles computers, paints tiny soldiers, and plays games of all sorts. He is also the author of the middle-grade and YA fantasy novels.Chapter One\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Raesinia\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Is that all?\" Raesinia said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Nearly, Your Highness,\" said the royal dressmaker, a plump,      red-faced woman who towered over her diminutive monarch. \"One      more, if you please. Take a breath and hold it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Raesinia complied, and the dressmaker whipped a knotted cord      around her middle with expert speed. She muttered to herself and      tugged it a bit tighter, then looked.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Wonderful. Thank you, Your Highness. I must say you are very      lucky to have such a slender frame. And such beautiful skin! You      will look magnificent.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Raesinia caught her own gaze in the mirror over the dressmaker's      shoulder and rolled her eyes. Stripped down to her underthings,      she could see the truth clearly enough. I look like a child. And      she always would.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Her unaging state could be inconvenient, but her actual appearance      had never really bothered her. It could be useful even-with the      right outfit, she could pass for a boy, and political opponents      had a persistent tendency to underestimate her. She'd never      particularly wanted male attention, though it had occasionally      come her way regardless. Poor Ben, who tried to protect me and      died for it. Now, though . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"One in sea green, I think,\" the dressmaker was saying. \"And one      in that lovely Hamveltai crimson. I know just the supplier. And      then-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I leave it entirely in your hands,\" Raesinia said. \"But you must      excuse me. There's a great deal of business to attend to.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e That was wrong, she realized at once. A queen didn't ask a servant      to excuse her. I should tell her to go. But politeness had been      ground into Raesinia since her earliest education, and now that      she was back in the palace, all the old lessons had resurfaced.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Of course.\" The dressmaker bowed deeply. \"I am honored by your      custom, Your Highness.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Joanna opened the door. The large, silent woman and her slim, more      talkative partner, Barely, were on permanent detachment from the      Girls' Own as Raesinia's personal guards. Their presence had      already become a comforting part of her landscape, and it was hard      to imagine that she'd once been without them. They'd been part of      the group that rescued her from the Penitent Damned and Maurisk's      Directory, and they'd stayed at her side through the horrors of      the Murnskai campaign. While Joanna was resplendent in a      well-tailored blue-and-silver dress uniform, Raesinia had no doubt      that the sword and pistol on her belt were extremely functional.      Even with Vordan more or less at peace, it was a comforting      thought.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Tell Barely to send the girls in, please,\" Raesinia said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Joanna nodded and leaned out the door. She never spoke, but she      and her partner had a private language of hand signals that let      her make herself understood. Raesinia was resolved to learn it      herself someday. When I have time.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Someday I'll have all the time in the world.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Two young women in palace livery swept in and went to work, silent      and efficient. Raesinia stood stock-still, raising or lowering her      arms as required, feeling a bit like an articulated dummy. On      campaign with the army, she'd mostly gotten away with reasonably      practical riding outfits, and before that she'd still been in      official mourning for her father. Now, though, with the echoes of      the victory celebrations still fading from the palace and life      returning to something like normal, standards had to be      maintained. Or so said Mistress Lagovil, the intimidating head of      the palace staff, and Raesinia hadn't yet worked up the nerve to      argue with her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e One of those standards, apparently, was that the queen couldn't be      seen in any outfit that she could possibly don under her own      power. Raesinia had pushed for a little practicality-she did have      work to do, whatever Mistress Lagovil might say-but that still      meant yards of lace and silk, carefully matched with rings,      bracelets, combs, necklaces, and whatever else could be scrounged      from the Royal Jewelhouse. To Raesinia's eyes the final effect      was, at best, \"sparkly.\" She'd been raised to appreciate palace      fashion, but the lessons had never really sunk in.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Mistress Lagovil had apologized for the sorry state of the      wardrobe, and indeed the rest of Ohnlei. The palace had been      sacked once by the revolution and again when Janus' army had been      quartered there. Furniture had been broken up for firewood and      drapes torn apart for uniforms and bandages. Much of the staff was      gone, fled or drafted into the army, and only a handful had      returned despite the end of the war. The nobles who'd once lent      their splendor to the court were still mostly hunkered down at      their country estates, waiting to be sure the storm had well and      truly passed, and Raesinia couldn't say she blamed them.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e At least some of the more tedious rituals had been temporarily      suspended. Raesinia could take her meals in her quarters-the Grand      Hall had been used to stable cavalry mounts and was still being      cleaned out-and there were few dignitaries who required official      receptions. No one suggested going hunting. Privately, Raesinia      dreaded the day the full splendor of the palace was restored.      Before her father's death, her days had been as tightly regulated      as a clockmaker's apprentice, jammed with lessons, formal dinners,      court outings, and other official occasions.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Once she was dressed, Raesinia took a few tentative steps in front      of the mirror, to confirm that she could walk without anything      falling off. It wasn't a bad dress, really, a deep Vordanai blue      accented with silver, flattering to a figure that didn't have much      to flatter. Raesinia rolled her eyes at herself again, signaled      her approval to the maids, and followed them out into her private      chambers.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Eric was waiting for her, practically vibrating with nerves, and      Raesinia stifled a sigh. It really wasn't his fault, as he'd been      thrust into a job he'd had no preparation for-he'd been a clerk      doing the palace accounts until Raesinia had asked Mistress      Lagovil for an assistant, and he was still overawed by the royal      presence. He was competent enough, but . . .\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e No but. It's not his fault that he's not Sothe. Every time she saw      Eric's too-serious face, struggling to maintain the constipated      expression he associated with proper dignity, Raesinia missed her      old maidservant. Maidservant, bodyguard, spy, assassin. Friend.      She'd left, after thwarting Orlanko's assassins on the final night      of the Murnskai campaign. Where are you, Sothe?\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Your Highness,\" Eric said. \"You look lovely. And the dressmaker      has given me her assurances that everything will be ready before-\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Raesinia waved a hand. \"I'm sure she'll do fine. What do we have      today?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Eric looked down at the leather notebook he always carried. \"The      Duke of Brookspring is expecting you in twenty minutes, Your      Highness. Then lunch with Mistress Cora, and you agreed to grant      an audience to Deputy d'Andorre.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e See? I do have work to do. Even if it sometimes seemed like      everyone wanted her to sit back and ignore it. \"We'd better get      started, then.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e The old Borelgai embassy, a rambling, ancient stone pile at the      edge of the palace grounds, had been burned by a mob during the      revolution. For now the Borelgai ambassador and his staff had been      assigned to a suite in the palace itself. Eric led the way there,      through corridors largely deserted except for guards at regular      intervals. The soldiers-part of the First Division had the honor      today, Raesinia saw-came smartly to attention as she passed.      Joanna and Barely, her constant shadows, followed a few steps      behind her.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Did Dorsay say why he wanted to see me?\" Raesinia said.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"His Grace did not mention a specific reason,\" Eric said. \"As far      as I'm aware, the treaty is progressing well, if slowly.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e That was Dorsay's ostensible reason for being in Vordan, the peace      treaty that would officially end the war between their two      countries. There were a great many details to be ironed out, and      in practice the negotiations were conducted between a swarm of      bureaucrats from both sides. Trying to understand the actual      points of contention made Raesinia's head hurt, but she did her      best to keep abreast of the general shape of things. Dorsay didn't      even seem to do that, happy to let his underlings do the work.      Raesinia suspected he was here more as a reminder than anything      else, Borel's greatest living soldier showing the flag to      underline the fact that-unlike all her other opponents-Vordan      hadn't beaten the Borelgai in open battle.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Two Borelgai Life Guards, their shakos lined with their trademark      white fur, stood guard outside the door to the embassy suite. They      came to attention as well, and the door opened to reveal the      perpetual smile of Ihannes Pulwer-Monsangton, Borel's ambassador      to Vordan. If Dorsay was all bluff informality, which Raesinia had      come to respect during their time in Murnsk, Ihannes was the      opposite, with the oily charm of the professional diplomat.      Raesinia presented him with her own best smile and acknowledged      his slight bow with a nod.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Your Highness,\" he said. \"You honor us.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Ambassador.\" Raesinia paused when Ihannes didn't move aside.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e His smile turned apologetic. \"His Grace has asked that this be a      private meeting.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Of course.\" Raesinia gestured for Joanna and Barely to wait.      \"Eric, find me after my meeting with Mistress Cora.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Ihannes stepped aside, and Raesinia swept past him. The Borelgai      suite was elaborately furnished, by the standards of the depleted      palace, with furniture and decorations in the severe Borelgai      style. More diplomatic posturing, she assumed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Attua Dorsay, the Duke of Brookspring, was seated at the head of      the long table, vigorously applying butter and jam to several      slices of toast. Ihannes cleared his throat theatrically, and      Dorsay looked up.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You getting a cough, Ihannes?\" he said. The twinkle in his eye      made Raesinia certain he was needling the ambassador.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No, Your Grace.\" Ihannes stepped aside. \"The queen is here.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I can see that,\" Dorsay said. He gestured at his plate. \"Care for      any breakfast, Your Highness?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"No, thank you,\" Raesinia said, barely restraining a smile at      Ihannes' pained expression.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Sit down, then. That'll be all, Ihannes.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Your Grace?\" The ambassador's brow furrowed.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I mean take yourself somewhere else,\" Dorsay said. \"I told you I      wanted this to be a private meeting.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Ihannes' expression went even frostier, but he bowed silently and      left through an inner door. Dorsay resumed buttering his toast,      which was already dripping.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Butter,\" he said without much preamble. \"You people have always      been good at it.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Thank you, Your Grace,\" Raesinia said cautiously.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Butter, cream, cheese, and so on. All in short supply back home,      since the war started. Do you know how much of our cheese comes      from Vordan?\" Before she could answer, he waved a hand. \"I didn't,      and neither did Georg. Nobody thinks about these things before      they start a war.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Georg referred to Georg Pulwer, the King of Borel, with whom      Dorsay was apparently on a first-name basis. Raesinia wasn't sure      how much of that was bluster and how much was truth. It was always      hard to tell with Dorsay.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It was you who put us under blockade,\" Raesinia said, keeping her      tone light. \"If it were up to me, His Majesty could have all the      cheese he could eat.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Which is a shockingly large amount, I can attest.\" Dorsay      crunched into the toast, getting flecks of butter in his bristly      mustache. He sat back and sighed with pleasure. \"Hells. No beating      the real stuff. Back home they try to make something with goat's      milk, if you can believe that. Goat's milk! Ha.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Once the treaty is finished, I'll send a few casks with you, as a      going-away present.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"A small price to pay to be rid of me!\" Dorsay cackled. \"No doubt      you'll throw a party to celebrate.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"You'll always be welcome at my court,\" Raesinia said. \"You helped      me keep the peace when we might as easily have been at each      other's throats.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"And your man d'Ivoire saved my neck from that snake Orlanko,\"      Dorsay said. \"I won't forget it, believe me.\" He finished the      toast, wiped his face on a napkin, and turned to look up at her.      His famous nose, long and curved, stuck out like the prow of a      ship. \"That's the spirit in which I asked you here, in fact.      Nothing to do with the treaty. Wanted to pass on a bit of private      information.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Oh?\" Raesinia hesitated for moment, then pulled a heavy wooden      chair from the table and settled herself facing Dorsay.      \"Information is always appreciated.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"How much are you hearing out of Murnsk?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Not a great deal,\" Raesinia admitted. \"They withdrew their      ambassador when the war started, and we haven't received any      official response to our inquiries since. The Army of the North      has pulled back over the border into Vordan.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I suspected as much. Our forces have pulled out as well, but      Borel has significant commercial interest in western Murnsk, and      sometimes they pass tidbits along.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e Raesinia nodded. Once again, she missed Sothe. Vordan's      intelligence service had been largely dismantled in the wake of      Orlanko's rebellion, but Sothe had a knack for acquiring      information. Raesinia had tasked Alek Giforte with creating      something to fill the void left by the Concordat, but that project      was still in its infancy.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Western Murnsk is in chaos,\" Dorsay went on. \"To put it mildly.      The bizarre weather has wreaked havoc, and to make matters worse,      the northern savages have crossed the Bataria in strength, raiding      and burning as they go. I imagine you saw some of that for      yourself.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"I did indeed,\" Raesinia said. Dorsay didn't know that neither      event was a coincidence-the summer had turned freezing under the      magical influence of the Black Priests, and the Trans-Batariai      tribes had come in response to Elysium's call to defeat the      approaching Vordanai army. \"What is the emperor doing about it?\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Not a great deal, and that's the part that's odd. There are some      strange rumors coming out of Mohkba. Some people are saying the      emperor's dead, and others insist that Prince Cesha Dzurk is a      traitor and is lying about it to seize the throne.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Janus smashed at least two sizable Murnskai armies on his way      north,\" Raesinia said. \"We heard that the crown prince was killed      in the fighting. It wouldn't be a surprise if all that caused some      upheaval.\" She shook her head. \"If the harvest was ruined, the      whole region must be facing famine. Perhaps we should organize      some kind of aid.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"It's not usually the winners of a war who offer help to the      losers,\" Dorsay said, eyes twinkling.\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"We were never at war with the people of Murnsk,\" Raesinia said.      \"Our quarrel was with Elysium. And the emperor, once he set      himself against us.\"\u003cbr\u003e\u003cbr\u003e \"Elysium is the crux of it,\" Dorsay said. \"Something very strange      has happened there. As best we can tell, much of the Church      administration has decamped, legging it for Mohkba and points east      as fast as their mules will carry them. No one has gotten close      enough to Elysium to find out what's happening there in weeks.      People who try just . . .\" He waved his hands. \"Vanish.\"","brand":"Ace","offers":[{"title":"Default Title","offer_id":46304396116197,"sku":"NP9780593101896","price":22.0,"currency_code":"USD","in_stock":false}],"thumbnail_url":"\/\/cdn.shopify.com\/s\/files\/1\/1842\/7735\/files\/9780593101896.jpg?v=1767739933","url":"https:\/\/k12savings.com\/products\/the-infernal-battalion-isbn-9780593101896","provider":"K12savings","version":"1.0","type":"link"}