‘Since I never heed your words, Resh, I will in fact give it further thought. But not now. All this killing has made me sleepy.’
‘Bah, while my headache clatters a plain of spears.’
The horses’ heads drooped. Sweat formed lather about their bits and made white streaks against their slick necks. They were through the forest of grass, out upon the lifeless verge with slumped knolls and rotted crags facing them. Sharenas Ankhadu had not thought such a ride possible, and these mounts were done. This thought irritated her. Kagamandra Tulas had succumbed to a kind of wilful disregard in his mad hunt for his betrothed. She glanced over at the others in the troop and saw well their drawn faces, their glazed eyes. They had gone in search of one of their own, yet no one life was worth the lives of these horses.
She never could understand the desperate elevation of a person’s value over that of other, less privileged creatures, as if every sentient mind was a lofty citadel, a self-announced virtue the loss of which staggered the world.
True, some worlds were staggered. Death’s kiss was always personal, and cold lips offered no solace. Unseeing eyes had a way of looking through and past those who dared meet them. Landscapes lost colour and breaths felt dry on the tongue. But all these feelings only stung in their mockery. They were echoes of sudden absence, the wail of the lost.
Animals knew the same grief. She had seen as much, time and again. Loss was universal. It was life’s own language, after all.
No, she was not irritated. She was furious, and when Tulas took up the reins again, she snapped out a single word. ‘No.’
He swung to face her.
‘Unless you fancy a long walk home.’
After a moment, Kagamandra slumped.
‘We have found the trail,’ Sharenas went on. ‘Leading back the way we came, although, granted, not the very same route we took. Lord Tulas, Calat Hustain dispatched these Wardens with more than one task in mind. Of course, we must discover the fate of Faror Hend. But also, we must confirm the tale of Captain Finarra Stone. We can return to this place upon our return journey, and so follow her track. But now, after a time of rest, we must set out for the shore — the trail here is plain. West.’
‘I am of a mind to leave you to it, then,’ Tulas replied.
The captain of the troop, a short, squat man of middle years named Bered, now cleared his throat, adding a dry cough before saying, ‘It is best we remain together, Lord. These are hostile lands, and for all your courage you cannot claim familiarity with it. We accepted the pace, true, but with misgivings. Now we must walk our beasts and then rest. This air is foul and will only get worse.’
‘She is my betrothed.’
‘And she is our companion. A friend to each and every one of us here. But we have great faith in her abilities, Lord Tulas. Still, should she have fallen, then no haste on our part will avail what remains of her. We will trail her, but with the expectation that the trail shall find no grisly end. In the meantime, it is as Lady Ankhadu has said: we must make for the shore.’
‘Besides,’ Sharenas added, ‘would you come this far only to deny yourself sight of the Vitr? Do you not wish to understand the purpose of Faror Hend’s duty in this land? Should you not see for yourself her avowed enemy? I will do no less, if only to honour her memory.’
He flinched at that last statement, but voiced no protest.
Tulas had tasted death’s kiss before. He could shoulder any new loss. She saw him find his resolve, like a man throwing on a cape of thorns, and saw too the hint of satisfaction, if not pleasure, in its bite. ‘Truly spoken, Sharenas Ankhadu. I am pleased that you are here.’ His lifeless gaze moved on to Bered and the other Wardens. ‘You as well. I see the strain in each of you: that you might have lost a friend. It is clear that my betrothed has found a worthy world in which to live. In all that you have already done, you do her honour.’
Bered’s reply was gruff. ‘And we expect to jest without repent in her company, Lord, in a few days.’
Tulas drew his horse to one side. ‘Will you take the lead now, captain, and read this faint trail?’
‘Thank you, Lord.’
Sharenas and Tulas waited for the others to set out, and then fell in side by side into their wake.
‘You must think me a fool,’ he muttered.
‘In matters of love-’
‘Spare all of that, Sharenas. You read well my fragile verve. This betrothal is my reward, and Faror Hend’s penance. Love does not rush between us. But I will give ease to her as best I can. My expectations are few and all chains I will cast away long before we join hands. She is welcome to take what lovers please her, and indeed to live out her days among the ranks of the Wardens. I begrudge her no decision.’
‘Yet you would give your life in her defence.’
He shot her a look. ‘Of course. She is my betrothed.’
‘Dear me,’ she replied, low, ‘you really are a fool, Tulas.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Rest your umbrage and I will speak honestly. No, I will wait for the heat to drain from your face. Listen well. This is not a question of dying for your betrothed. It is one of living instead. You should have refused the offer, knowing what you know — of yourself, of a young woman’s dreams. This was, as you say, your reward, and as such was intended as a gift to match gratitude. In turn, House Durav was badly mauled in the wars, almost unto dissolution — and for those losses, another gift was offered. Accordingly, Faror Hend had no choice. She had to accept in the name of her family — she had to accept any husband of nobility offered her. And in turn, she is expected to produce heirs.’ She studied him carefully, and then continued, ‘It may be that you are gone. That all that remains of you is flesh and bone. But that will serve. Do you understand my meaning?’
‘Why did you choose to accompany us? On this search?’
She grimaced. ‘I admit to cruel curiosity. But there is so little left of you, Tulas, that the game palls in the deed. I was as much the fool here as you, I fear. So, let us smooth the sands between us and begin anew, if you will have that.’
His nod was understandably cautious.
She went on. ‘If friends have left you, then I will be your companion. If companionship stings too much, then nod to my occasional smile, the meeting of my gaze. With me you can speak, on any matter, and I in turn avow myself a secure repository of your secrets.’
‘And what of your secrets, Sharenas Ankhadu?’
‘Alas, mostly venal, I admit. But if you enquire, you shall have them in abundance.’
To her astonishment, the weathered face creased in a smile. ‘It is said that among the three, you are the cleverest.’
She snorted. ‘Among the three that’s hardly a triumph of wit.’
‘Will you side with Urusander?’
‘You waste little time, Tulas.’
Tulas made a strange sound, and then said, ‘Time? In abundance it is no more than preparation. In short supply it is every necessary deed. We are hoarders of time’s wealth, yet worshippers of its waste.’
‘You have spent years now, preparing to die, Tulas. A waste? Most assuredly.’
‘I’ll bear the cut of your tongue and wipe away what blood may flow.’
She looked ahead through the grainy gloom. Another day was past and the time of failing light was upon them. ‘Calat Hustain was a wall, against which Hunn Raal flung arguments. Stone after stone, shattering, raining down. His words were futile as dust. It was glorious.’
‘Ilgast Rend was a bear among wolves, yet the wolves saw it not.’
‘You knew his purpose?’
‘I surmised. He is a conservative man, and only grows more hardened in his ways. Whatever he said to Calat was all the bulwark the commander needed and as you say: the walls did not so much as tremble.’
‘My sister and cousin will back Urusander, if only to wound Draconus. Better a husband than a consort, if she is to rule us all.’
‘Children cleave to the security of a formal union in the matter of parents,’ said Tulas. ‘It is in their nature to
