Every time I get married, I seem to be freezing.”
“We should head back to the camp. Denjon had the cooks prepare a wedding feast for you.”
“What a culinary experience
“You're not planning to make this easy, are you?” R'shiel asked.
The Princess conceded the point reluctantly. “Very well, I shall endeavour to be appreciative of the efforts of my hosts.”
“That should be a new experience for you,” Damin remarked blandly.
The Warlord enjoyed living dangerously, R'shiel decided, noticing the look Adrina gave him. She made her excuses, leaving the bride and groom with Brak, and slipped away to speak with Denjon.
“Thank you, Captain.”
“I'm sure I've broken a score of laws here today, R'shiel. Are you sure this was necessary?”
“Positive. It'll keep Hythria and Fardohnya off our backs while we deal with the Kariens.”
“I hope you're right. I'm not sure the marriage of a Hythrun Warlord to a Fardohnyan will help Medalon much. Particularly the Warlord who's spent most of the past decade trying to steal every head of cattle on our side on the border.”
“This Warlord is on our side now, Denjon.”
“I'll have to take your word for that. Although he seems reasonable enough.”
She smiled, wondering what Damin would think of such a backhanded compliment. “Never fear. Events will strike a balance eventually.”
“I hope you're right, demon child.”
R'shiel had no chance to chide the captain for calling her by that hated name. A commotion ahead of them distracted her as a Defender ran towards them from the line of tents ahead, calling her name.
“What's wrong?” she demanded as the man pushed through the wedding party to reach her.
“It's Tarja,” the young man panted. “He's awake.”
R'shiel beat everyone else to the infirmary tent. She pushed her way through the flap and ran to the pallet where Tarja lay at the far end of the large tent, straining uselessly against the ropes that held him.
“Tarja?”
He turned at the sound of her voice, but there was no recognition in his eyes. His colour had improved but he had a wild look, as if a battle raged inside him. His dark hair was damp and his brow beaded with sweat. The rough, grey, army-issue blankets that covered him were a twisted tangle.
“Tarja? It's me, R'shiel...”
His only response was to tug even harder at the ropes. Already his wrists were burned from his efforts. With a cry of dismay, she reached for them, to ease his suffering.
“R'shiel! No!”
Brak hurried to her side and looked down on Tarja with concern. Damin and Adrina were close on his heels.
“Look what he's doing to himself, Brak! You can't just leave him there, tied up like a wild animal.”
“If you let him go, he's liable to do a lot worse damage to himself,” Brak warned. “Until the demons leave him, he's better off restrained.”
“Demons?” Adrina gasped in horror. “You mean he's possessed?”
“In a manner of speaking,” the Harshini shrugged.
“That can't be good for him.”
“It's the only thing keeping him alive,” R'shiel retorted, suddenly in no mood for Adrina's tactlessness. “How much longer, Brak?”
“It shouldn't be long now,” he said. “He's awake. That's a good sign.”
“How will the demons know when to leave?”
“Dranymire should sense when they're no longer needed. With luck, when the meld dissolves, all the brethren will follow.”
“With
“Never fear on that score, Damin. If you ever take a fatal wound in battle, I'll be more than happy to let you die.”
“Stop it!” R'shiel cried impatiently. “I'm sick of you both! Go away!”
The pair of them looked quite startled at her outburst. “I'm sorry, R'shiel...”
“Just leave.”
Without any further comment the Warlord and his bride beat a hasty retreat from the infirmary. R'shiel turned her attention back to Tarja, who seemed to have lapsed into unconsciousness again.
“I have to tell you, R'shiel,” Brak remarked as he watched them leave, “if the fate of Hythria and Fardohnya rests in the hands of those two, we're in big trouble.”
“They need to grow up,” R'shiel agreed impatiently. She had no time for the peculiarities of her friends at this point. She was more concerned about Tarja. “Isn't there anything we can do for him?”
“Not while the demons still substitute for the blood he's lost,” Brak told her.
“How much longer?”
“There's no way of knowing. But he's strong. If anyone can survive this, Tarja can.”
She watched for a moment, as Tarja's chest rose and fell in even, measured breaths. “Every day, I keep hoping... We've already been here too long. We have to leave. I can't keep putting it off.”
“We have a wedding feast to attend first.”
“Don't remind me.” She pulled the blanket up and smoothed it, then looked at Brak. “I just hope those two behave, tonight. If not, I'll strangle the pair of them.”
“Don't worry, they won't dare cross the demon child.”
“Are you making fun of me, Brak?”
He smiled. “Just a little bit.”
She returned his smile wanly. “Don't you ever get sick of watching over me?”
“Constantly. But it's a task I'll be doing for some time yet,” he replied as his smile faded.
“What do you mean?”
“You've chosen which side you're on, demon child. You don't think Xaphista is just going to stand back and watch while you set about destroying him, do you?”
“You think he'll send more priests after me?”
“You should be so lucky,” he told her. “A priest you can see. No, I'm afraid he'll be a bit subtler this time. He'll probably try to turn someone close to you against you. Someone you trust. Someone who can get near you.”
R'shiel studied Brak for a long moment then glanced down at Tarja. “You think he'll turn Tarja against me, don't you?”
“Tarja, Damin, Adrina, one of the Defenders, who knows? Any one of them could become your enemy and you won't know a thing about it until they're pulling the knife from your back.”
R'shiel stroked Tarja's brow gently before she answered. “Tarja would never betray me.”
“Perhaps not. But trust no one, R'shiel.”
“Not even you?”
Brak smiled thinly. “Xaphista can't turn me to his cause, or any Harshini for that matter. He began as a demon and he was never bonded to my clan or yours. The Harshini you can trust.”
“But nobody else?”
“Nobody else.”
She stood up, frowning at the idea that everybody she knew was a potential traitor. “Brak, I
Brak shrugged. “We all have a destiny we can't avoid, R'shiel.”
