that we can cover the distance in the day and strike their camp in the darkest part of night.’
‘And when you reach them?’ Ilumene asked. ‘You’ll never get near Emin or the Farlan boy; they’re too well guarded.’
‘We go to kill their elite,’ Koteer said with a sudden hunger in his voice, ‘to prove ourselves the greater warriors and weaken them for the battle to come. We do not go to win the war.’
Ilumene nodded in approval. ‘It’ll slow their pursuit up; give us time to negotiate the Chetse border if they’re watching for ambushes every night. You have Ruhen’s permission, send them my best.’
‘I have seen your best,’ Koteer replied without humour, ‘and it is a savage thing. That is what we shall give them.’
As the last of the sky turned to black, Doranei and Fei Ebarn headed out into the hushed army camp, where quiet snores mingled with the song of cicadas on the cool night air. Both were armed in their own way: Doranei in blackened armour, Ebarn in silver chains and crystal shards attached to a snug coat. There was not a breath of wind, Doranei noticed; after the blustery morning where the wind had been at their backs like Ilit’s hand urging them on, it had steadily faded to nothing, the God’s strength spent. Now the hushed Land waited, adding to the tense quiet of the army camp.
‘So, you and Veil then,’ Doranei said at last, when they had moved beyond the last tent.
Ebarn gave him a suspicious look. ‘What about us?’ The battle-mage was a strong woman, and well able to use both the stave she carried and the long-knives on her belt. Magic might be her greatest weapon, but in a melee the stave was an effective way to keep soldiers at arm’s length until she could burn them.
‘Just making conversation.’ He stopped and turned to face her. ‘I didn’t mean anything by it — just that you seem good together.’
‘And there’s you, the expert in relationships?’
Doranei gave a wry smile. ‘Screwed up a few in my time, right enough. That must have taught me something!’
Ebarn nodded to acknowledge his point and they continued their patrol. King Emin’s more obvious elite now walked the camps at night, mostly just to be visible to the many untested soldiers. No amount of training could prepare a youth far from home for the true chaos of battle — or the sight of dragons being hauled out of the Dark Place, for that matter. Emin wanted his mages and skilled killers closer to his men in a way a king could not be.
‘So. Me and Veil,’ Ebarn said after they had passed the first sentry post, seeing the soldiers stand a little taller in their presence, ‘you give your blessing then?’
‘I ain’t the boy’s father; he don’t need me to hold his hand.’ The mage smiled. ‘Just as well. He hasn’t got many to spare.’
‘Aye, so long as he takes off those damn spikes before he slips in your bed! Probably the first mistake I’d manage.’
‘Way I hear it, you’d have managed more’n a few by the time you get to the bed.’ Her eyes twinkled with amusement
‘Aye, could be true,’ he admitted.
‘How’s he dealing with it? Losing his hand, I mean.’
‘Like the rest of you would, I’d guess: he’s pretty pissed off — he’s always trying to scratch his little finger and he’s about ready to punch holes in the ground when he forgets and finds it gone all over again. Man’s about as hard to ruffle as any of you, though. He’ll be fine — he’s more worried about you!’
‘He’s in good company there,’ Doranei said darkly, ‘but I ain’t been drunk in days; that’s got to count for something, no?’
‘For you, aye — Veil told me you’d be good. I’ve got to admit I wasn’t so certain, but it looks like he knows you better.’
‘Simple and obvious, that’s one reason Zhia liked me in the first place,’ Doranei agreed. ‘When your days are full of lies and games, I guess not having to deal with that shit at night is a blessing. And yeah, Veil knows me well enough. I’m Brotherhood to the bone; ain’t one who’d survive retiring, not like him or Sebe. When duty’s all I got, it’s enough to keep me moving.’ He sighed. ‘It’s pathetic really. I’m like Isak’s dog Hulf, lost without a master.’
‘At least you realise that. Most wouldn’t.’
Doranei snorted ‘Most haven’t spent so much time asking why in the name o’ the Dark Place they’re doing what they’re doing. You know, I just realised something about all I’ve done, all that bad shit in the name of the king — it’s not that I’m kidding myself here, when I die, me and Lord Death are going to have a long old chat. Old Bones might have a few comments at my Last Judgment, and Ghain’s slope is going to be one long bloody walk.’
‘I sense a “but” creeping in.’
‘Aye, there’s a “but” — seems to me, the deciding vote ain’t going to be Death’s. Either we stop Azaer or we don’t. The final judgment about me might depend on success, not the right or otherwise of what I’ve done. Either the Gods owe all of us one bastard of a favour, or an Upper Circle God’s going to have it in for us. Azaer’s not a forgiving type, even in victory.’
Ebarn was silent for a long while. ‘So now you’ve depressed the shit out of me,’ she said eventually. ‘And this is you dealing with things better?’
‘Gives us a prize to aim for, you’ve got to admit.’
‘Incentive like that I didn’t need,’ she muttered, running a hand over her short hair as though trying to brush of her mood. ‘Now I know why Endine doesn’t want to talk to you anymore.’
‘Pah! The scrawny bugger should know better than to have a serious conversation with me when I’ve had a few — the man knows I’m a mean spirited drunk.’
‘That all it was?’
Doranei looked away into the dark of the countryside. This was a sparsely populated part of the Land, most of the towns nestled close to the cities they were bound to for fear of the regular wars between states. Most of the smaller settlements were now abandoned, according to the Narkang scouts.
‘Mostly,’ he admitted at last. ‘Neither of us has been an idealist, not for years; what truth I spoke he knows anyway, he just doesn’t like to think about it. With Cetarn dead he’s feeling lost. He wants his faith to be a shield against the Land the way Cetarn’s bulk was.’
‘Lost without his friend, eh?’ Ebarn said pointedly. ‘There might be more than one man feeling that way. So maybe you’ll go a bit easy on him?’
‘I see what you mean.’ Doranei picked up his pace. Now wasn’t the time to talk about their own frailties. He’d got the golden bee on his collar and the sword of a dead Demi-God on his hip: he was a King’s Man. He didn’t want to know what men might say behind his back, though he guessed it would be as much hero-worship as distrust — conquered a vampire princess, ear of the king, cold-hearted bastard who murdered his lover, a hundred different things. Best he didn’t hear any of them.
I might be a bastard in their eyes, Doranei realised, but they want killers on their side, ones they can’t imagine falling in battle. Few of us liked Coran — maybe none of us, to tell the truth — but you were still glad to hear him snarl at your side when the Soldier beckoned.
They headed to one of the advance pickets, fifty yards out from the camp, near enough for voices to carry if it was attacked. All ten faces turned their way, then the squad’s sergeant saluted gravely before returning his gaze to the darkness beyond.
The sergeant was a few winters older than Doranei, but the rest were frighteningly young — but the recruiters didn’t care much about actual age so long as they were strong enough to use a spear.
‘Evening, boys. All quiet out?’
‘Yes, sir,’ squeaked the private he was looking at, the youngest of the lot. ‘Nothing more than a bat.’
‘Did it give the password?’ Doranei meant to joke, but his weariness and lingering grief made the words sound angry and the boy’s face paled. ‘Never mind, son; just a joke. See any daemons?’
The boy shook his head violently. ‘Nothing, sir. Corporal Rabb, in third squad, he said he did last night, thing like a dog, shining silver in the moonlight.’
‘And his sergeant said it was a damn rabbit,’ said the squad sergeant, glancing back. ‘Sergeant Garelden, sir. Sorry, foolish talk is all. Until they see their first fight, they’re always jumpy at the unknown.’
Doranei remembered the fears of his first mission well enough. ‘Sure it wasn’t actually a dog?’ he asked the private.
