instead looking at the assembled soldiers and trying to estimate how many they were.
The Farlan had been least hurt during the battle, arriving late to catch the Menin unawares, but anyone meeting the grief-maddened Menin heavy infantry had taken losses. He guessed one and a half thousand remained in total; the double-legion of the Ghosts wouldn’t have been quite at full strength, not after the major engagements of the last year, and some had to have remained to man the walls of Tirah Palace. Veil was nearby, looking exhausted, but in less pain now. He gave his Brother a prod with his boot and was rewarded by an obscene gesture with Veil’s remaining hand.
‘You two, swap places,’ said the witch, Ehla, as she assessed the crowd of soldiers. Doranei looked up and realised she was pointing to him and Daken. The white-eye heaved himself up and Doranei reluctantly let him take his place at King Emin’s side.
‘Want the best up front, eh?’ Daken wheezed as he thumped heavily down onto his backside, tipping backwards until Veil shoved him upright again with his boot.
‘Not quite — the last thing we need is that bitch on your chest getting involved and marking any more soldiers.’
Daken lifted his shirt as best he could, exposing part of his tattoo of Litania the Trickster. For once, the blue lines on his skin were perfectly still. ‘Don’t you worry about that. Like most women lyin’ on my chest she’s all tired out. She won’t be movin’ any time soon.’
‘Perhaps,’ the witch said dismissively, ‘but I prefer not to trust her. The power will flow outwards from Mihn. With Doranei as a buffer there she’ll not let herself be carried on it into him.’
‘Why? The boy smells, but so do most’ve us.’
Her eyes narrowed on Doranei. ‘It’s who he smells of Litania will be wary of — yes boy, her. There’s a perfume on the wind that isn’t coming from the Farlan nobles.’
Doranei looked away from them both and the witch moved on, raising her voice so she could be heard by all.
‘All of you — put your palm against the chest of the man behind you, over his heart. You must all be linked; you must all choose to give yourself to this service.’
Doranei felt Daken’s meaty paw thump him on the chest, almost knocking him backwards, and he grabbed it with his left hand and held it over his sternum, where he knew the heart rune had been burned into Mihn’s and Isak’s flesh. Reaching back he felt Veil push forward against his hand and all around them men and women copied them, or followed the king’s example and reached out with both arms.
It took a long while for everyone to link themselves, but the witch — unable to have her own magic turned back on her, Doranei guessed — continued on out through the ranks, neatly picking her way over the outstretched arms towards the back. Finally he saw the witch waving from the far end of the seated soldiers, indicating Legana could start.
As Shanas passed on the message — Legana’s eyesight was too poor to see so far in daylight — Daken clicked the fingers of his free hand towards Isak. ‘Here doggy,’ he whispered as Legana took her place between Mihn and King Emin.
‘What are you doing?’ Doranei said as Hulf pricked up his ears and Isak slowly looked over. The young dog was sitting on Isak’s feet, watching events suspiciously.
‘Come to Uncle Daken,’ the white-eye called, clicking his fingers again. Eventually Isak focused on the man and stared at the gestures he was making. He watched the man a moment, then removed his hand from around Hulf’s shoulder. ‘That’s it, boy, come here,’ Daken called again.
‘Leave the bloody dog alone,’ Doranei whispered. The palm on his chest briefly became a claw as Daken dug his fingers in to shut Doranei up.
‘It’s for the best,’ he said, nodding encouragingly to Isak. ‘That dog was with him on the battlefield — they might not’ve been part o’ the fighting, but it ain’t leaving his side any time soon. You ever seen a dog fight an armed man? It’s gonna need all the protection it can get.’
From behind him Doranei heard a snort. ‘Don’t be so surprised,’ Veil said softly, ‘if a dog can’t eat or fight something, it’s only got one use for it — remind you of anyone?’
Isak pushed Hulf towards Daken, and at last the dog padded warily over. The white-eye mercenary let Hulf sniff his fingers before he made to stroke him, but once that was done Hulf went easily enough and Daken hooked an arm over the grey-black dog to hug him close.
‘Now don’t you bite my face, you little bugger,’ Daken whispered as Legana reached out, a Crystal Skull in each hand. One she pressed against Mihn’s chest, the other against King Emin’s. After a moment Doranei heard the king gasp and braced himself.
Mihn had told him acquiring the scar had hurt enough to make him pass out. Legana hadn’t mentioned anything like that, but the erstwhile Farlan assassin had a strange sense of humour at the best of times. If it wasn’t for the fact that she’d grown close to King Emin and he was to be the first recipient of the markings, Doranei thought it an even bet she’d gladly have knocked out more than a thousand men in one go.
Daken’s fingers tightened on Doranei’s tunic and he pulled it against his chest, a moment later feeling Veil follow suit as best he could. Hulf gave a short bark, more puzzlement than alarm, but Doranei couldn’t look to see if Isak had reacted. Instead he closed his eyes and focused on the warm tingle that was building on his chest. His heart began to beat faster as the warmth spread around his chest like a belt, slowly tightening on his ribs.
A furious itch began on his palms and down his arms, the skitter of a thousand tiny spiders on his skin. Carefully he opened his eyes, wincing slightly as the pressure on his chest increased with every second, and turned his free hand over to look at the palm. A white speck of light was dancing madly over his skin, leaving a trail of ink behind it. All around him he heard gasps as others discovered the same sensation, but he only looked up when he heard a gasp of pain from Mihn.
The Crystal Skulls in Legana’s hands shone with a fierce, bright white light, and it looked like the shafts of light had impaled Mihn. His arms and head hung limply behind him; his lips were moving, but whatever he was saying Doranei couldn’t hear.
Then Mihn’s whole body shuddered as though Legana had shaked him like a toy and he moaned, ‘It is given.’ His voice was hoarse from the pressure being exerted. Doranei felt a renewed surge of power wrap around his body and Mihn’s words echoed through his bones. Then the power increased again and Mihn’s words became lost in the storm that filled Doranei’s head. ‘Whatever asked… in darkness a path…’
Doranei howled as the pressure abruptly focused into a burning pain, as though Daken’s hand was a white- hot brand. Distantly he heard others cry out, and Hulf whimpered, but the sounds were lost amidst the stars of pain bursting before his eyes. Though reeling from the agony, he felt impaled by Daken’s hand, nor could he wrench his own hand from Veil’s chest.
A cool gust of wind swept across his face, whipped into life by the magic running through his body. It carried the stink of scorched flesh and Doranei realised with a flash of fear that the smell was him. The itch on his hands, feet and arms intensified. Unable to see through the pain he had to picture the tattoos unfolding on his skin, spun like silk and burned onto his body: circles within circles to keep him hidden and silent, leaves of rowan and hazel on his arms to shield him from magic.
With one final surge the searing magic drove deep into his chest, then went racing down his arm and on into Veil. He heard his Brother cry out even as Daken’s hand fell away and the pain receded. When the magic was gone and through Veil the pair sagged, flopping sideways and clinging desperately to each other for support.
Doranei gasped for air, his heart racing as fast as it had the previous evening. Almost drunkenly he inspected his arms: there was a perfect replica of Mihn’s tattoos, and on his palms too, running unbroken over the various scars he’d acquired over the years in service to his king. The charms of silence and magic to hide him from both men and daemons were now indelibly imbued into his skin.
‘Do you reckon-’ Daken wheezed from nearby, one arm still around a distraught Hulf, ‘-do you reckon this means we’ll never find Veil’s hand out here?’
He gasped for breath and cackled at his own joke while Veil, too drained to do anything more, muttered insults. Doranei forced himself upright and looked around: the magic was still working its way outwards. It resembled a ripple of wind sweeping over a field of wheat as the magic flowed from one man to the next, leaving them toppled and exhausted in its wake.
Legana sank to her knees, spilling the Crystal Skulls on the ground. Mihn and Shanas caught her befoe she fell flat on her face.
