The commissar wore a basic brown tunic and trousers, his lack of armour and the pale scarf around his neck making him stand out from the merceneries. In the dark it wasn’t clear what colour it was, but Doranei guessed at pale yellow, an echo of the greater moon above them, since Alterr was the dominant God here.
‘You claim Alterr’s sanctuary? I — forgive me, it has been a long time since my days of instruction. I had almost forgotten-And the mysteries of… ’ He tailed off, but then visibly rallied as he remembered what he had learned when first inducted into the ranks of the commissars. ‘You must number twelve.’
Doranei inclined his head to concede the point. ‘Veil, Leshi.’
In complete silence the pair picked their way out from the darkness of the trees and stood with weapons drawn as the commissar counted them again.
‘You are twelve,’ he said eventually, adopting as dignified an air as he could muster. ‘Lady Alterr blesses you with her light, and so you may travel safely so long as you do so.’ He turned to the copse. ‘Captain, you and your men may come out.’
‘Rather not, if it’s all the same ta you,’ the Carastar replied nervously. ‘I’ve heard talk o’ the mysteries and the halls o’ the ziggurat. Some sort o’ saviour or prophecy, right?’
‘It is a prophecy,’ the commissar said, ‘but one beyond your comprehension — only the most faithful of Alterr’s servants are revealed the mysteries, so you should not gossip or speculate.’
‘Aye, I won’t. My point being, we didn’t know who you all were, sirs and ladies, before you announced yourselves. Don’t mean no disrespect, but given we almost made a terrible mistake there, I’d sooner slip away right now rather than show my face.’
The commissar was momentarily speechless, flustered both by the ancient legend standing before him and astonished that his orders had been questioned for once. Even the Carastars were subject to the rule of the Commissar Brigade; the captain knew to defer to him.
‘No disrespect will be taken,’ Doranei interjected before the commissar could recover himself. ‘We would not object.’
‘You-? Well, then, as you wish, Captain.’ The commissar shook his head in puzzlement, but he was not going to countermand Doranei’s statement. ‘Wait for me at the camp — but first send your fastest rider on ahead to Ghale Outpost and inform the ranking commissar there that the first sign has been revealed. He will know what to do and make arrangements for our guests.’
He bowed low to Isak’s party as the sound of men retreating came from the trees. ‘My name is Commissar Yokar,’ he said, peering at Doranei and then Zhia, before scrutinising Isak as the largest among them and Vesna as the most regal. His knowledge of their prophecies would be limited by his rank, but he clearly expected one of them to stand out and show him what the mysteries expected.
‘I am at your disposal. Might I — might I ask who is the leader of your group?’
There was a pause before Isak nudged his horse forward. ‘I am.’
‘I am honoured to be in your presence. Might I ask my Lord’s name?’
‘Sebe,’ he replied as he slid the shawl from his head and saw Yokar visibly flinch when he saw Isak’s battered face, but he managed to keep silent. ‘My name is Sebe.’
The commissar was too overawed to notice Doranei’s reaction to the name, but it took only the smallest movement from Zhia to keep the King’s Man quiet. They all knew the king and Isak had agreed he should not use his own name, to avoid provoking months of religious debate. Isak had said that if their mission was to become famous, it deserved to be in the name of a man whose renown had been missed by the Land at large.
‘My Lord Sebe,’ the commissar said awkwardly, unsure how to address the white-eye, ‘I cannot offer you an escort according to the lore, but should you need supplies or horses, you have only to command me.’
‘That will not be necessary.’ Isak replaced the shawl to keep Alterr’s light off his face. ‘We have a long way to travel before dawn, so you may return to your work.’
Seeing the exchange was at an end, Doranei and Zhia started off again across the moonlit grass. The tattooed soldiers leaped back onto their horses and fell in behind their lord, and they all moved off quickly. The commissar was left alone and staring after them. He jumped as Isak turned in his saddle and clicked his tongue, then stumbled backwards when a grey shape broke from the trees opposite.
Hulf trotted out into the open and regarded Yokar. Man and dog watched each other suspiciously for a few moments before Hulf gave an unexpected sneeze and turned after Isak, dismissing the commissar with a swish of his tail. When thick cloud crossed both moons Hulf seemed to disappear entirely and that was enough for Yokar. The commissar fled back into the trees.
An hour before dawn the party reached what appeared to be an abandoned farmstead and Isak called a halt. While the soldiers of the group went on to investigate, Isak eased himself off his charger and watched Legana do the same. Vesna had offered the Mortal-Aspect a hand, knowing her balance was permanently affected by the loss of her Goddess, but she had ignored him. Even when she stumbled and had to grab the saddle to steady herself, she shrugged off any attempts to help.
Isak watched Vesna frown at the display of independence, but he said nothing, just stayed as her side until she had recovered herself and glared at him. Dismissed, Karkarn’s Iron General trudged back to his horse and led it to the dilapidated corral where Ebarn and Tiniq were starting to rub down the horses.
Isak followed. He nudged his friend as his horse was taken off him. ‘You’ve been quiet.’
Vesna’s frown deepened. ‘Not much to say.’ He headed around the back of the corral, away from their companions to a break in the trees behind, through which he could see the western sky where the sun would soon rise. The colours of night were already bleeding from the sky, but Isak knew Vesna saw none of it. The neat patter of paws behind them told him Hulf had joined them and on instinct Isak knelt down and drew the dog close.
All of a sudden Vesna’s head sagged and his legs wavered. Gods-granted strength or not, the famous warrior would have fallen to his hands and knees had Isak not jumped up and reached out to steady the man. He guided Vesna to a wide tree-stump a few yards away, sat him down and sat on the ground himself, while Hulf inveigled his way under Vesna’s thigh until he was sitting between the man’s legs and looking up, begging for attention.
Vesna gave a bitter, pained laugh and began to scratch the dog behind one ear with his un-armoured hand. Hulf arched appreciatively and tilted his head until he was pressing against the Mortal-Aspect’s leg.
‘He’ll never get too much of that,’ Isak commented.
‘Mihn said Ehla gave him to you?’
‘So he tells me. I don’t really remember.’ He winced and pressed his fingers to his temple. One fingernail had refused to grow back after his time in Ghenna and the rest were marked strangely, symbols or some strange script cut into the skin beneath. ‘The time after my escape… I see the cottage by the lake, and figures around me, but they’re like ghosts in the mist.’
‘We all are now,’ Vesna commented sadly, peering down at Hulf’s bright eyes. ‘I feel like we’ve slipped out of life, as if we’re just shadows hunting for the bodies we once possessed.’
‘Some of us are,’ Isak replied with a slight smile. He put a hand on Vesna’s shoulder. ‘But not you — you, my friend, have greatness ahead of you.’
‘Greatness? All I feel is emptiness like ice.’
‘That’s because you mourn, right down to the bone. Tila’s death hurt us all, but your loss was greatest and there’s nothing can ease your pain. I’m sorry. But she saw the greatness in you; the strength not only to survive but overcome.’
‘You speak to me of strength?’ Vesna asked, astonished, ‘when it chills me to even imagine what you endured?’
‘We white-eyes, we’re born to survive, to wade through rivers of blood until we’ve reached our goal.’ Isak tried to smile but the effort defeated him. ‘We’re tools to be used; I see that now. Whatever purpose the Gods or Aryn Bwr sought to use me for, I’ve found my own path — but the white-eyes are the bloody hand of history. We’re not equipped for what happens after victory; we must leave that to greater men.’
Vesna glanced back at the house behind, where a light now shone through the shutters. It was too bright for a lamp; it had to have been cast by one of the mages. ‘You’re not alone there. Perhaps it would be best for some of us if we did not survive this war.’
‘Enough of us’ll die already; there’s no need to seek it out. His hand will reach for us all in due time.’
‘So we just have to wait our turn?’
Isak shrugged and rose, offering a hand to Vesna. The Mortal-Aspect took it, but he did not rise immediately, instead taking a moment to stare at the strange contrast between the two. Each man had used his left hand: Isak’s
