Doranei didn’t reply; he was in no mood for banter. The closer they got to Byora, the more he felt the pressure like a great weight on his shoulders. The king had taken him aside a week back to reveal Doranei’s next mission, and the dread had been growing ever since.
‘Thinking about Byora?’ Veil asked. ‘Sebe, mebbe?’
The two men rode, mounts that’d been left without owners after the last skirmish. Veil wore his spike-tipped vambrace most all the day, now the threat of infiltrators was ever-present.
Gods, I wasn’t, Doranei thought guiltily. Thanks for reminding me. ‘Just trying to work all this out, what’ll be coming next.’
‘A fight, if we’re lucky.’
‘But then what? Ruhen’s no warrior — he’ll let the Devoted fight for him, but the shadow won’t be in the thick of it. Does he run? Let it all burn around him? Draw us into a trap?’
‘He’ll run,’ Veil said confidently. ‘He’ll let us inflict the horrors o’ war on his expendable followers, and that’ll do the job of recruiting thousands more for him.’
‘Where does it end?’
Veil shrugged. His long hair was tied back and covered with a scarf to keep the worst of the road’s dust out. ‘It ends when we catch him. And when it’s over, we start living again.’
‘Living?’ Doranei echoed. ‘What in Ghenna’s name is that? This war’s all either of us have ever known. You going to retire, go into trade?’
‘Hah! We’re killers, my friend, there’s no retiring for us. But there’ll always be enemies, never fear — just not ones of Azaer’s calibre — and I for one won’t be complaining about that.’
‘So that’s all my life will ever be?’
Veil looked askance at him. ‘You? Probably not. You ’n’ Dash’ll be running the Brotherhood one day soon. Sir Creyl’s got no fire left in him, not really. I ain’t pissing on the man’s name, but his edge went with his title and he’s not complaining. Got himself a family now, a legacy, and life better’n the Brotherhood could ever offer — while we get a commander pushing the paper who knows what it’s like down at the sharp end, which ain’t nothing neither. Meantimes, Dash makes the decisions and she’s the one with a heart o’ cold steel; they both know that so it’ll all keep working and we get the hope of something better — that’s if we survive to retire.’
‘Why me?’
‘You’re the favourite son Ilumene could never be. You don’t want to be king, simple as that. Let’s face it — we all love that spark of fear in the eyes of folk at court. They see the bees on our collars, they know the reputation of the King’s Men, and we’re Gods — and daemons — in their eyes. That feeling of being above the law, that’s the rush for all of us, but Ilumene, he wanted adulation too: the glory as well as the power.’
Doranei raised his eyebrows. ‘Been thinking about this much?’
‘Hah, mebbe a little, aye.’
Doranei was silent for a long while. Eventually he said, ‘Veil, you’d say we’re about as loyal as it gets, right?’
‘Eh? What sort of dumbshit question is that? Remember Canar Fell — that old bugger from the Three Cities conquest who’d pissed off the duke? The king sent us there to protect him and you never hesitated — you took a crossbow bolt and threw yourself out a damn window to save the man, all ’cos the king felt he owed a debt.’
‘Aye, I remember,’ Doranei said with a wince, working the shoulder he’d broken in the fall. He had only survived because he’d taken the assassin with him and had landed on the man. ‘I was just making a point: we’re loyal — but why? What for exactly? Why’d we do it?’
‘Piss and daemons, what’s the king asked you to do?’
He shook his head. ‘Just thinking about what’s to come.’
‘If you say so- Ah, shit!’ Veil gasped as he scratched his cheek with the wrong hand while he thought — again. He let go of his reins and used his right hand to wipe the blood away, wincing at the pain. He scowled at Doranei as though it was his fault, but Doranei hadn’t even broken a smile this time.
‘Sure as shit ain’t the adornments we get,’ Veil muttered. ‘Why’d we do it? Too dumb to know any better, I guess. Man needs something t’believe in. At least we don’t have to pretend some waddling inbred fool is a king we owe our lives to.’
‘And look what it costs us,’ Doranei said, pointing to Veil’s spikes. ‘Are we really so desperate for purpose, for something bigger than ourselves to believe in?’
‘’course! Only a bloody fool thinks otherwise too. Life’s not pretty or nice most o’ the time; you don’t buy into the lie a little, you’re always going to be waiting for things to fail. Take marriage — even someone like Zhia, who’s not exactly normal. Does any man really think his wife’s always going to be beautiful, always going to happy to see him and full o’ joy? Don’t make me laugh! You do your best to ignore the bad bits or soon enough they’re all you’ll see — and then the good is wasted.’
‘I guess so,’ Doranei said. ‘Who’re the heroes of the nation? It’s us — madmen like Coran and Daken who’re as bad as they are good, or someone like Beyn who was a bastard, no two ways about it, but a fucking hero all the same. Bad bits are easy to see if you want.’
‘Or moody shits like yourself,’ Veil added, ‘who falls into a bottle whenever he’s angry, upset, sleepy or horny, far’s I can tell.’
‘Least I got two hands, fucker.’
Veil was too quick for him, clouting him across the mouth with his remaining hand moving before Doranei had even finished speaking. The bigger man growled and swung a punch that would have taken Veil off the back of his horse, but he dodged and brought his reinforced vambrace crashing down onto Doranei’s head.
Stars burst before his eyes, but Doranei instinctively reached out and grabbed Veil’s brigandine. He dragged Veil towards him and headbutted him and he heard a crunch as he caught Veil right on the nose.
Veil fell backwards off his horse, his single hand flailing for a grip.
‘Ah, fuck!’ Doranei gasped, moving drunkenly as he tried to keep his balance.
‘Fuck’s sake, Doranei,’ Veil yelled from the road below. ‘What the fuck’s wrong with you?’
Without even meaning to, Doranei dropped from his horse and advanced around the beasts towards Veil. ‘You took the first swing, don’t bitch about what you get!’
‘Like that, is it?’ Veil demanded as he struggled up, spiked vambrace pointing at Doranei. ‘I could’ve rammed this in your fucking neck without even thinking. Next time maybe I won’t bother holding back.’
‘Oh fucking try it,’ Doranei snarled, his hand settling about the grip of his enchanted broadsword.
‘Ahem,’ said a voice behind them. ‘Children, is there a problem here?’
Doranei let his hand fall away from his sword and turned to face King Emin, sitting on his caparisoned horse, his head cocked to one side. Beside him, Dashain looked furious. Lord Isak was blinking as though dazzled by the muted daylight.
‘No problem, Sire,’ Doranei mumbled, unable to meet the king’s piercing ice-blue gaze for long.
‘Excellent news. In which case there’s no need to trouble the healers, is there? Given there’s not been a problem, no one can have been hurt.’
Doranei touched a finger to the right-hand side of his head. He winced as his fingers came away bloody. ‘No, Sire,’ he said, ‘no need to trouble them.’
‘No, Sire,’ Veil added in a muffled voice, ‘all good here.’
‘If I may, your Majesty?’ Dashain broke in. ‘I appear to have a discipline problem with my men.’
‘Of course.’ Emin waved graciously. ‘It is your prerogative.’
‘Thank you.’ She glared at the two Brothers. ‘Now, who started it?’
There was a pause, then both men said, ‘I did,’ in the same breath.
‘Good. Consider it at an end. Kiss and make up.’
Another pause in which the pair inspected the ground at their feet before mumbling apologies.
Dashain growled, ‘Did I not make myself clear? Did I fucking stutter? Do I look like I was joking? Bloody well kiss and make up, or I’ll flog the pair of you.’
There was silence, quickly broken by a cough of laughter from Isak. Doranei stared at the daemon-scarred man for a heartbeat, then back at Dashain. A few carefully muted sniggers came from the column of soldiers which had ground to a halt to watch the fight.
Doranei blinked, then a growl of annoyance from Veil turned into a laugh and he turned, grabbed Doranei by the tunic and pulled him closer before planting a big kiss on his lips, to the whoops of laughter from the onlooking
