She took another step closer and the figure, leaking fire from its various wounds, staggered back, but not quickly enough to avoid Zhia’s sword, which flicked out and sheared through the crude staples holding its front together. The corpse burst apart and collapsed to the ground like a discarded coat while a ten-foot figure of flame unfolded against the night.
Zhia punched forward with an open palm and the Chalebrat was thrown backwards a dozen yards, flames streaming in its wake. The fires of its insubstantial body guttered under the blow.
Doranei readied his sword, but the Chalebrat was making no move to attack; instead, it looked up at the night sky before vanishing, leaving only a trail of light in Doranei’s eyes.
‘Was that another lesson for me?’ Zhia shouted up at the sky.
Doranei followed her gaze and at last he made out the shape of a wyvern, lazily hovering above where the Chalebrat had been. As his eyes adjusted to the loss of light, Vorizh’s pale face became clear against the black clouds above.
‘A distraction!’ Vorizh called with a laugh as a sword entere Zhia’s back. ‘And now I leave you to your loving embrace.’
Doranei held her close and blinked back the tears. He had one arm around her, just below her throat, the dark green embroidery of her dress bunched in his fist. The scent of flowers filled his head as Zhia shuddered, a tiny gasp of air escaping her lungs. His hand shook, unable to let go of the weapon it held. The hilt pressed right against her back, but still he drove it forward as his guts turned to ice. Zhia tilted her head down to stare at the tip of the weapon now protruding from just below her ribs and gave a cough that could have been surprise.
She dropped her sword and Doranei felt her fingers reach up to clutch his hand, her usual strength absent, her hand closing about his like a lover’s might. Doranei closed his eyes and pressed his face against her neck, still holding her tight, and Zhia leaned her own head into his for a moment. Doranei could hear nothing but the rush of blood in his ears and the terrible pounding of his heart.
He felt her legs begin to sag, his grip the only thing holding her up, and gently he lowered her to the ground, sliding his black broadsword out and lying her on her back. She trembled only slightly as he withdrew the weapon and cast it aside. He cupped her face in his hands.
‘I will,’ Zhia whispered. A flicker of pain crossed her eyes, and then she was gone.
Doranei gave a strangled howl as the woman went limp. From nowhere a black mist rose from the ground, stealing up out of the scrubby grass to curl around the edges of her body. Horrified, Doranei fell back; he couldn’t take his eyes off Zhia’s corpse as the mist swarmed up and over her body, licking at Doranei’s discarded sword and his boots until he stumbled back a pace.
‘She will what?’ the Goddess marked lieutenant said in a hushed voice.
Doranei’s stomach lurched. ‘Before… this…’ he began, choking on his own words, ‘she knew…’
He sank to his knees, grief filling his vision. ‘I wanted to ask her a question.’
CHAPTER 31
Ruhen opened his eyes. ‘She’s dead.’
‘Good,’ Ilumene said, ‘I never trusted the bitch, never mind her little gift to you.’
The boy looked at his muscular bodyguard, just returned from his hunt in Narkang lands. Ilumene was dressed for battle, in white-bleached leather armour stiffened with painted steel strips. Beside him, Venn’s normal black was covered with a white cape. His ruined wrist was encased in a bright, milky crystal. He might carry only one sword now, but he had lost none of his Harlequin dexterity, and he carried a Crystal Skull. Venn was far from vulnerable.
‘What about the element of surprise?’
Ilumene shrugged, his grin wolfish. ‘Fine when you’re using it, but some never do. They just hold their surprise in reserve, waiting — always bloody waiting. You’ve been carrying that sword Zhia gave you for months. I know you’ve been wary of revealing that she’d sided with us. Now we know they’ve found out about Aenaris, there’s no reason not to use it.’
Ruhen blinked, and the shadows danced in his eyes. ‘I had best not disappoint you, then,’ he said at last and gestured towards the ornate doors of the Duke’s Chamber. ‘Shall we?’
The fine wall hangings of the lower chamber of the Ruby Tower had been covered by strips of cloth, collected by the white-cloaked devotees of Ruhen from all over Byora. The Knights of the Temples had spread far, and the response had been great. Even those states as yet unscathed by war had heard of the horrors inflicted — the obliteration of Scree and Aroth were all too easy to imagine when daemons roamed the lonely roads and woodlands, providing fertile ground for a message of peace.
The preachers had brought back prayers back from every village, town and city, and Ruhen could smell the power in them, growing drip by drip. Currently that power was out of reach — daemons and Gods alike were shaped as well as sustained by the worship of their followers, while Azaer had refused to become dependent on mortal followers. This was a time of transformation however: the Land would be remade, and he would too.
‘I still don’t like this,’ Ilumene said at last, not moving from where he stood. ‘We’re wasting a lot o’ men.’
‘Learning compassion, Ilumene?’ Venn inquired, a look of sour scorn on his face. ‘I hadn’t thought old dogs of the Brotherhood capable of such tricks.’
Ilumene gave him an unfriendly look. ‘Aye, and I can juggle too. I’d teach you how, but there ain’t much fucking point, is there?’ He turned away from Venn and squatted down to look Ruhen in the face. ‘You gave me command of the armies, remember? Making sure they deliver is my responsibility.’
‘And thus far their job is to be defeated,’ Venn continued. ‘Success isn’t admirable until you’re asked to do something difficult.’
Ilumene ignored him, waiting for Ruhen’s response.
The boy showed no emotion at the squabbling of his underlings. ‘You are concerned we might lose the support of the Devoted?’
‘They ain’t happy about Emin’s armies cutting through ’em, but backing out at this stage ain’t an option, not with the losses they’ve taken. Continuing to take my orders, though — that might be harder if we’ve done nothing but lose ’em men. You provide the Devoted with legitimacy for their expansion, but Telith Vener and Afasin still see you as just a figurehead, one to be used and dropped if it costs them too much. We can disabuse the buggers of that, but it’ll stall us at a time we really don’t need.’
‘Afasin speaks with no voice now his army is broken,’ Ruhen said in a voice so soft it was almost a whisper. ‘The others know that.’
‘He still speaks within the council and that’s enough.’ Ilumene straightened. ‘The Knight-Cardinal’s yours, body and soul, but he’s the only one of ’em. Lord Gesh too, perhaps, but on military matters his opinion ain’t worth much. If you show your power now, folk might start to ask why we’re retreating away from the Circle City in the first place — and certainly why we’re doing so while sacrificing ten legions or more, whether or not they’re our weakest troops. It’s a half-arsed commitment to battle, a sop to Karkarn’s will that will convince no one and loses too many in the process.’
‘What does my general advise, then?’ Ruhen asked, one hand raised to stop Venn’s objections.
‘Either send most of your forces, or beat the retreat for them all. What else is there? Defeats paint a picture that serves our purposes, I know, and every report of savage sorcery and inhuman combat brings more followers to the cause, but we ain’t following the old plan very closely any more.’
Ruhen nodded slowly. ‘This mortal vestment remains something I wear, and you do well to remind me of mortal concerns. But this defeat would serve us.’
‘So we make it a defeat, but one we’re truly escaping from, rather than leaving in our wake. Provoke a response to truly flee from. We’re at the point where we need to take risks — to show them as a real danger, they actually need to be a real danger to us. We’re leaving the Circle City anyway, but your followers don’t know that. They need to feel there’s no choice before they flee.’
‘You suggest a flawed battle-order?’ Ruhen asked. ‘One that will go wrong quickly enough to require a retreat for all forces?’
