He winked at the vampire. ‘Or is his arse just hurting him? How does it look, by the way? Better than before, I’m guessing, with a reminder o’ me in nice big letters.’
‘Oh indeed — how could a nicely-sculpted buttock not be improved by your name and a few roses?’
Doranei spluttered as Daken’s eyebrow rose. ‘Roses, eh?’
‘She’s joking!’ the King’s Man protested, ‘there’s no such thing!’
‘Oh, come, dear,’ Zhia purred, ‘there’s no need to be embarrassed about your admiration for the general.’
Daken’s eyes glittered with delight. ‘As the nice lady says, it’s only natural to feel a bit o’ worship for me. You ain’t the first, I promise; you should’ve heard all the lovely things Legana was sayin’ to me only last night!’
As if on cue Legana arrived at the table, assisted by Fei Ebarn. Her vision was always poorest at dusk. Ebarn’s cheek crinkled as she scowled at the memory and pointed at Daken.
‘Your boy here likes to dry off naturally, so to speak. It’s not a sight we’re quite used to yet.’
— I said I’d cut off anything I saw hanging within reach, Legana added, writing quickly on her slate.
‘It’s all in the delivery,’ Daken said with mock wistfulness, ‘as the actor said to Etesia. Makin’ your eyes burn with green fire and wavin’ a knife around, that’s my kind of flirting.’
The rest arrived, Isak taking the furthest corner where he could wedge his back against the wall of the tavern and observe the rest. Veil went around behind him, struck his fist against Doranei’s before hopping over the bench to sit beside his Brother. Tiniq pointedly inserted himself between Shinir and Daken to prevent anyone getting stabbed while they ate. Leshi took Shinir’s other flank and Fei Ebarn followed Veil around to the far side, Mihn and Vesna taking position on either side of Isak.
Perhaps having seen white-eye mercenaries before, the innkeeper was remarkably quick at sending out half a dozen pots of beer and as many bottles of wine. Daken descended on two of the former with love in his eyes, and the first had been sunk before they’d finished pouring the wine. While the rest were served, Isak watched a pair of stablehands fetch out lamps and hang them off the building. It wasn’t dark yet, but given what the ghost-hour heralded these days, they clearly wanted as much light in the village as possible.
‘We’ll be needin’ a whole lot o’ food out here,’ Daken warned the serving girl as he handed her an empty pot. ‘May be a time before we get decent food again, so you tell your cook if we don’t get the best out here soon, I’ll go in and give ’em a beatin’ before I take over the kitchen.’
‘Is that why you brought him, Isak?’ Zhia asked once the serving girl was out of earshot. ‘He’s your chef?’
‘Why, you needin’ some domestic service?’ Daken asked cheerfully. ‘Told Doranei he drank too much.’
‘I brought him,’ Isak broke in, ‘because someone needs to carry all your spare clothes — and his is a name the Carastars’ll know. Ours might not be so welcome there, after all.’
‘But mainly it’s the clothes,’ Veil commented, raising his beer to Daken, who took the comment in good spirits. ‘Does a good turn as a mule, our noble general.’
‘You all joked enough?’ Shinir demanded suddenly. The woman’s eyes were suddenly alight as she looked up and down the table. ‘You better all damn well make sure you get it all out of you before we reach Vanach. They ain’t ones for joking or laughter. It’s pretty fucking easy to get the Commissar Brigade after you, but opening your mouth without thinking’s the fastest, and they won’t give a shit if we’re following some prophecy or not.’
The whole table looked startled. That speech near as much equalled the sum total of what anyone had previously heard Shinir say.
‘And that’s bad, right?’ Daken asked, happily needling a woman considered dangerous even among Chief Steward Lesarl’s agents.
Shinir ignored him and continued to address the whole table. ‘The Commissar Brigade has at least one agent in every village. They enforce the laws and they don’t even answer to the cults. They’re the ones who control Vanach and they kill anyone who doesn’t act like the perfect servants of the Gods.’
‘The Commissar Brigade,’ Leshi added, ‘are independent of the cults — have been so for decades now.’ He spoke hesitantly, starting too quiet, before loudly clearing his throat. ‘If they decide you’re a threat, they’ll kill you. We can take down a lot of them, but their numbers won’t run out. Every citizen can be drafted into service, and maybe one in ten is already a brigade agent — they’ll make women and children fight, so it’ll look like the Temple Plaza in Scree, day after day.’
Leshi was a Farlan ranger and Ascetite, just as Tiniq was, and he epitomised the brave, taciturn warriors who haunted the wild forests east of Lomin. They had little use for conversation, and Leshi’s obvious unnatural skills had made him something of an outcast even within that elite band. Though he verged on gaunt, he was almost as strong as a white-eye, and incredibly fast — but it was his ability to fade into the shadows that had allowed him to infiltrate Vanach on Lesarl’s orders.
He and Shinir were two of a small number ever to get out of Vanach, and their intelligence had satisfied the Chief Steward, so no more had been sent. The population were permanently on the verge of starvation, and rigid controls on travel and interaction between classes meant Vanach barely functioned as a state. Only the fertile northern regions prevented outright calamity, while the labour camps and executioners prevented any opposition to the commissars.
‘No glory in that,’ Daken muttered darkly, looking around at the faces of those who’d been in Scree at the time.
No one responded; most could not find the words to describe what had happened in Scree and even Zhia’s face went stony. It was unlikely anything would match the horrors of the Last Battle — the Gods’ victory over Aryn Bwr had seen the fabric of the Land permanently frayed — but even the Menin’s efforts to wipe Aroth from the map had not been so effective as the madness and subsequent firestorm in Scree.
Isak hunched his shoulders a little more and reached out for a cup of wine. ‘I’ve left enough slaughter in my wake,’ he said. ‘I don’t want that added to my tally too.’
‘We won’t. This is going to go smooth as you like,’ Doranei replied for the rest of them. ‘Way I see it, this is a Brotherhood operation, and that means we plan from here to the border, rehearse everything we need and leave nothing to chance. We’ll be ready, I promise.’
Zhia raised her cup. Isak could taste a shred of magic on the breeze as she spoke, just a tiny fragment that tingled warm down his neck and lifted his spirits a touch. ‘Here’s to not killing everyone we meet,’ she declared.
The assembled company smiled and joined her toast. ‘Not killing everyone.’
Shinir looked to her right and gave Daken a thump on the shoulder. ‘That means you too.’
‘Aye, ’spose so,’ he grumbled and raised his pot of beer. ‘Just you make sure there’s some. I’m a man o’ appetites, me.’
Mihn yawned and set his wine down unfinished. It was late in the night and half of their party had retired to the rooms they’d taken upstairs. He looked around at those who were left. Zhia, bright-eyed and alert, sat curled in Doranei’s lee, the lovers talking quietly with Legana. Daken was more or less asleep, waking only to growl whenever someone tried to pluck the clay bottles nestled in the crook of each arm from his grip, while Veil sat in silence and mourned his hand. He plainly didn’t want any company beyond the presence of Ebarn, sound asleep on his shoulder, and one of Doranei’s cigars.
As for Isak… Mihn sat up, suddenly fully awake as he realised Isak was missing. Hulf lifted his head from the old bearskin in front of the fire and sleepily regarded Mihn. Then he too was awake, looking for his master as automatically as Mihn.
Legana raised a hand to catch Mihn’s attention.
Outside, he read off her slate and nodded his thanks. He slipped off his boots out of habit and headed for the door. Hulf beat him there and danced about impatiently until Mihn thumbed the latch. They didn’t have far to go: Isak was sitting in the cool night air, bathed in moonlight and puffing on his pipe. He didn’t turn at the sound of the door opening. He knew who would be looking for him.
Hulf bounded over and forced his nose onto Isak’s thigh. The white-eye shifted to scratch the dog behind his ears, but as soon as he moved, Hulf was off with his nose to the ground, following some scent. Mihn watched him move into the shadows and vanish from sight. Thanks to Daken’s intervention at the Moor-view ritual, he’d not be able to follow Hulf’s path.
‘Should we not keep him near?’ Mihn asked softly.
Isak shook his head. ‘There are no daemons out there, not tonight. There’s only us.’
