But he avoided repeating his account of Gashan. That could wait, they had heard most it from the messenger anyway. He would tell them the entire tale tomorrow, otherwise he would be repeating it endlessly to those who wanted to hear it from his own lips.
By the time he reached the rooms in the south wing of the palace he shared with Adhara the fire was burning brightly on the hearth. On the low table lay a platter of food, a roasted haunch of beef and some bread; beside it stood a flask of ambroth.
“So they let you go at last.” Adhara sat on the embroidered cushions that surrounded the table. She had changed from her tunic and breeches into a flowing, woollen gown that she had bought from a Relanese merchant. It was not the sort of thing she would be seen wearing except here in their private rooms, but it was comfortable to wear it in the evenings, she claimed, and it was warm.
Everywhere he looked in this room was a mixture of the Relanese and the Anthorian that lay in them both. The floor was covered with skins and rugs and the walls were hung with weapons, but behind the weapons the walls were solid Relanese stonework, carved in places with firebird symbols. Relanese ladies with nothing better to do had embroidered the cushions around the table. Adhara’s gown was Relanese, though she had found one of a dull colour and with only a little embroidery on the cuffs; she did not want to look like a peacock.
Beyond this room was a Relanese style bathroom that was even now being filled using an ingenious piping system. In another room stood a real Relanese bed with carved legs and a mattress of horsehair. Such beds were rare in Relanor now. Vorish had one and so did several of his Drinols, but Menish knew of no others. This one had come from Atonir in Menish’s grandfather’s time.
Menish grunted a reply to Adhara’s question. “Help me off with this jerkin will you?” They were always a curse to get in and out of. Vorish had spoken of a new way of fastening them down the front, he wished he had obtained a new one while he had been in Atonir. After a struggle they removed the jerkin and Menish hauled off his boots. Adhara picked them up, opened the shutter and tossed them out the window.
“My boots!”
“You’ve others, and those stink. Phew, it’s not just the boots. You must have rolled in that Gashan slime.”
“I had to wade chest deep in it. No, before you try and strip me naked I am going to eat something.” He sat down on the cushions and broke off a piece of the meat.
“You certainly need that bath,” she said as she poured them both ambroth.
“And you are disrespectful to the King of Anthor.”
“The King of Anthor is stuck with me.”
“Did anything happen while I was away?”
“The usual things. Marayhir is still saying you raided his cattle. I was going to offer to duel with him to prove the truth but your news came.”
“Drinagish should do any duelling.”
“Am I not regent while you are away?”
“Yes, yes, but-”
“But you think I'm too old to beat Marayhir,” she was annoyed.
“You could not wrestle him, that would be unseemly, so it would have to be a blood duel with weapons. He's old, but he still has his strength, and he's cunning. Drinagish would have less trouble beating him, that's all I meant.”
“Cunning? I knew more tricks when I was five years old than he'll ever know.” She looked at him seriously. “Do you really think I'm too old to fight him?”
“Perhaps.”
“Then I’ll let you rest your weariness tonight, but tomorrow I’ll spar with you. Old indeed!”
“Oh, never mind my weariness, I’ll spar with you now!” he made a lunge at her, meaning to catch her about the waist and pull her close to him. But she twisted and rolled out of his grasp.
“Not with that stink about you!”
“Is it really so bad? I've grown used to it.”
The bathroom held a pool of steaming water that was sunk into the floor. Around it the floor and walls were covered in mosaics of human figures, mostly female, bathing. In typical Relanese style there were garlands of leaves and flowers carefully covering their nakedness. The pool was small, just enough room for the two of them, that meant there was less water to heat.
Adhara stepped out of her robe and slipped into the pool. Drawing her knees up to her chin to make room for him. Menish watched with approval at her muscular body. Adhara had lines on her face now, and grey in her hair, but she still moved as gracefully as a swan.
With a sudden twinge of guilt he remembered Thalissa.
“What's wrong?”
“Nothing.” Their voices echoed eerily in this room. Menish pulled off his breeches and stepped into the pool.
“Ow, it's hot!”
“Better hot than cold.”
Menish lowered himself in, feeling the soothing heat as it crept into his leg. He spent some time rubbing the sandy soap they used into his skin and then sat back against one wall of the pool. He tried to relax, but thoughts of Gashan filled his mind now. Plans and strategies crowded into his head. A dike across the battlefield, archers, shields covered with water-soaked skins. Adhara ran her fingers over his knotted brow.
“You're thinking of Gashan. Not tonight, my love. Tomorrow there'll be care enough for the King, tonight let there be love enough for us.”
Later, when they lay on the great, carved bed wrapped in fur blankets, Menish stared at the ceiling and listened to Adhara’s breathing as she slept. He had thought he was tired but she had roused him just as she always did. It was not through want of passion that she had borne no children. He sucked in his breath between his teeth suddenly as he recalled again that he was not childless even though she was. He had to admit that the Keeper had been correct about Azkun’s saying he was Gilish, even though his prophecy had been misleading. What he had said about Vorish could not be misinterpreted.
Adhara’s breathing changed and she stirred.
“Are you awake, my nightingale?” he asked.
“Yes. I'm thinking about Gashan.”
He closed his arms about her.
“Not until tomorrow.”
“How can you be so sure when they'll attack?”
“Azkun told me.”
“Yes, I know. You said he could see what they were thinking. But how do you know that's true? I don't trust him.”
He could have told how Azkun had found Thalissa for him at Lianar, but he did not.
“Oh, we can trust him. I saw him when we were watching the Gashans. It's hard to describe, but they get into his blood. He was very frightened.”
“That woman, Tenari, he brought with him, she's an odd one. While he was away she just sat in the woman’s hall and stared at the wall. She wouldn't eat or speak, nothing. Neathy kept an eye on her and she said that sometimes, in the evenings, she'd weep a little, but nothing else. I think today was the first time she left the hall. Neathy must have made her understand you were coming back.
“Anyway, what happens now?”
“I'll send word to Vorish for the forces he promised. When he comes we can work out some strategy.”
She sat up suddenly.
“Strategy? What can you do? I've heard you too many times to have hope in strategy. It was you who told me how the Gashans will fight even when they are wounded mortally, how if their front ranks fall with arrow wounds their comrades surge from behind them like the sea, how they launch balls of fire.”
“Yes, but we beat them last time.”
“So you did, but with a trick they'll watch for. We'll sell our lives as dearly as we can in this war, and we'll die fighting side by side. I suppose it's a better end than watching each other fade into dotage.” Her voice grew bleak in
