“For what Kalianah did to you. For all of it, I suppose.”
Tarja shrugged, not comfortable with either the subject or her apology. “R'shiel, there's really no need...”
“Yes there is, Tarja. At the very least, it eases my guilt a bit.”
“In that case, apology accepted,” he said, smiling faintly to assure her of his sincerity.
There were ten thousand other things that R'shiel wanted to say to him, but Tarja seemed satisfied that the subject was painlessly closed. He turned back to watching the plain in silence. R'shiel sighed and decided to let the matter drop. There was nothing to be gained from opening old wounds. Tarja had obviously been at pains to put the past behind him.
R'shiel's thoughts turned to the coming confrontation. She tried to calculate how much longer she had to wait. It was the evening of Fifthday. Tomorrow was Restday and, at dawn, every Karien would be crammed into the village churches, every city dweller would be crowded into the nearest temple. Even the soldiers below would turn their backs on the Citadel to listen to their priests. And that's when she would make her move. When every Karien voice would be raised in worship of their god.
It was when Xaphista would be at his most powerful.
It was also when he was most vulnerable.
“If this works,” she said, breaking the silence, “all Damin and Hablet are going to have to do is mop up.”
“Mopping up tens of thousands of Kariens and getting them back across the border will be a job in itself, R'shiel. And don't forget that we still have to gain control over the rest of Medalon. The Sisters of the Blade here in the Citadel might appear to be toeing the line, but I suspect it's only because of the siege. They're happy to let us fight their battles for them, but the moment we're rid of the Kariens, they'll start trying to regain their position. We've a very long road ahead of us.”
“You'll make a good Lord Defender, Tarja.”
He shrugged. “I never wanted to be Lord Defender, you know, not even when I was a Cadet. I knew what people were saying about me. I knew everyone thought I was being groomed for the job and the idea terrified me. The responsibility terrified me. It still does. I was much happier as a simple captain on the southern border fighting Damin Wolfblade. Life was a lot less complicated back then.”
“I think Damin would agree with you. He's finding some of the decisions required of a High Prince a bit more than he bargained for.” For a moment she recalled Damin's unforgiving eyes as he sentenced Mikel to death. Tarja would be confronted with similar dilemmas, she was certain. She envied neither of them. Then she smiled, as something else occurred to her. “He has Adrina with him.”
“Oh, wonderful,” he groaned.
“Don't worry, Tarja,” she assured him, laughing softly at the expression on his face. “You'll be safe. She only has eyes for Damin, these days. Besides, she's due to give birth soon. You never know... she might have the child here in the Citadel and decide to name it after you. But I think you'll find her too preoccupied to worry about flirting with you.”
He looked very relieved. “I like Adrina, but she can be very... trying.”
With a sympathetic smile, R'shiel turned her back on the Kariens and leaned against the softly glowing wall. She folded her arms across her body and studied the pattern in the stonework beneath her feet for a moment, working up the courage to say what she had brought him up here tell him.
“Tarja, when this is over, I'm leaving.”
He looked at her in surprise. “Where are you going?”
“I have some things to take care of. Loclon is still out there somewhere, for one thing. I won't rest until I've dealt with him.”
“I'm sorry we didn't find him. No, worse than that, I'm sorry I didn't kill him. You were right. You warned me years ago that I should have put an end to him that evening in the arena when he killed Georj. Do you know how often I wish I had?”
“Probably nearly as often as I do.”
For a moment, he could not meet her eyes. The memory of what Loclon had done to her was too dreadful to confront. He glanced back over the plain before he answered.
“We didn't see any sign of him when we let the Kariens out. He may still be in the Citadel.”
“No, Tarja. He's long gone. But it doesn't matter. I'm half Harshini. I have several lifetimes to fill. I don't mind using one of them to find Loclon.”
He nodded silently, needing no further explanation.
“I have to get Mikel back, too.”
“Mikel? That Karien boy who crossed the border with Adrina? What happened to him?”
“The God of Music is minding him for a time. I have to go and get him back.”
“A god is
She laughed softly. “No.”
“Will you come back when you've finished?”
“I don't know,” she shrugged. “There's something else I have to do, but I don't think it's going to be that easy, and I don't know how long it will take. You can keep a lantern burning for me, Tarja, but don't wait up.”
He smiled then, perhaps even a little relieved that she would not be around to remind him of a past he thought better forgotten. Kalianah's geas was not yet a distant memory. Time would make the past easier to come to terms with. He was no longer her brother and would never again be her lover, but she could count him a friend.
“I'll miss you.”
“No you won't. You'll be glad to see the back of me. So will Garet. And Mandah.” He turned from her, and it took R'shiel a moment to realise that it wasn't anger that turned him away, but embarrassment. “Oh, Tarja, don't be so foolish. I know I've never been friendly with her, but Mandah adores you. I worked that out when we first met in Reddingdale. I suppose that's why I never liked her. That, and the fact that she's so insufferably nice. She's probably one of those Novices who grew up in the Citadel lusting after you and Georj. It doesn't bother me, and you shouldn't let it bother you.”
Tarja suddenly grinned at his own foolishness. “That's very noble of you, R'shiel.”
“Actually, Brak said the same thing.”
Tarja's grin faded at the mention of Brak. There was still a degree of residual distrust between them, R'shiel knew. Brak had done a great deal that Tarja found hard to forgive. “Is he going with you when you leave?”
She shook her head sadly. “No, Tarja. Where Brak is going, I can't follow.”
He was silent for a moment then looked at her strangely. “Do you love him, R'shiel?”
“Not in the way you think. It's something else. You wouldn't understand. The Harshini would.”
“The Harshini,” he sighed heavily. “I don't suppose there's any chance the Harshini will want to leave the Citadel too, once this is all over and done with?”
“Not much,” she agreed with a grin.
He shook his head ruefully. “Well, wherever you go and whatever you do, R'shiel, spare a thought for me every now and then. Things are going to get a lot worse before they get better, I fear.”
R'shiel smiled sympathetically, but did not answer him. They stayed on top of the wall for a while longer, until the discordant notes of the distant musicians ceased. Then the air was filled with the strains of a cheerful melody as the party in the amphitheatre got under way. By unspoken agreement, they turned and walked back down the spiral staircase in the gatehouse to the street and headed towards the music.
CHAPTER 59
R'shiel had feared that allowing the Harshini to mingle with the people of the Citadel in the amphitheatre
