damned books in the first place?
“Cheer up, Halfbreed,” said the Barbarian. “It’s Solace night and you’ve money in your pocket. It can’t be all bad.”
“For once you’re right.” Best leave tomorrow’s worries for tomorrow, Rik thought. “Have you seen Rena?”
Sardec rose from the bed. He felt replete and he felt soiled. Some of the effects of the alcohol and the drugs had had worn off, enough for him to realise what he had done. He looked down on the naked girl all too aware of what she was.
How had it come to this, he wondered?
Looking at her, he knew. She was not like his other lovers. Her breasts were larger, her hips wider than a Terrarch woman’s. And yet she was beautiful, and there was something about her that moved him to lust in a way that they had not. It was the fascination of the forbidden, he thought. His shame was an integral component of his lust, not its mirror image.
He began to put his costume back on, aware too that it was to blame for this as well. It had provided him with a disguise. It had taken him out of himself. It had, for this one night, given him a new identity. He had become someone else, but now it was time to return to reality, to put this sordid event behind him, and make sure that it never happened again.
He looked at the girl. She looked at him, empty eyed, and he wondered what she was seeing. Did she despise him? Did it matter? Who was she to judge him? There were other matters to be thought of, things he had never dealt with before. What was he supposed to do about payment? How much? Was that why she was staring at him- did she expect coin?
He opened his purse decisively and flipped a silver coin to her. He caught the flicker of disgust and perhaps shame on her face. She made no attempt to catch it.
“That will be sufficient!” he said, hoping it was and hoping it sounded decisive. He did not want to show weakness in front of this human woman.
She nodded to him. Part of him felt appalled at the way he had behaved. It was not the way he had been brought up. Suddenly, he did want to face the others gambling in the room. He wanted out. He put on his mask and opened the door.
As he did so, someone walked past. He was tall. Even masked and costumed he moved like a Terrarch. He turned and looked through the door, and his eyes appeared to widen in surprise. Sardec nodded amiably to him and passed on down the corridor, leaving the figure looking at the door that had swung shut behind him.
Rik glared at the door and was tempted to open it. A strange cold rage filled him. He had recognised Rena on the bed, just as he had recognised Sardec in his costume. The stab of jealousy caught him completely by surprise. The memory of Sabena and her lover came flooding back. He felt an urge to kick open the door and go in and berate the girl. He felt the urge to follow Sardec and punch him to the ground despite the pain in his hands.
Instead he did nothing. He merely stood there. Numb. He had been stupid to have expected anything different from a girl in her profession. He was an idiot in fact. This had been a predictable thing. The girl was, after all, a whore.
Whore. Whore. Whore, he thought, repeating the word as if it would give him some comfort, feeding his anger so that it would burn away his pain. This, he thought, was one of the worse nights of his life. He had failed in his effort to get the books, learned secrets he did not want to know, and now had seen Rena in bed with the Exalted he most despised.
He cursed. He did not know why he had expected anything different. This, after all, was the way the world was. The Terrarchs got what they wanted at whatever the cost. Humanity could go to hell.
He cursed the damned books and his obsession with them. Maybe if he had stayed behind with Rena this would never have happened.
Who was he kidding? Sardec was a Terrarch noble. She would have walked out with him even if Rik had been standing right beside her.
He stalked off down the corridor, filled with an overwhelming sense of defeat and failure. Let Zarahel raise his bloody demon, he thought. Let him smash the whole world to flinders. Why should he care?
He was going to get drunk.
Chapter Thirty
Sardec woke the next morning with the worst hangover of his entire life. He stared at the window and realised he was back in his own room at the camp. He could not remember how he had gotten there. He was conscious of a deep feeling of shame, although he was not entirely sure of what he had to be ashamed about.
Slowly, memory of the events of the night before came back to him, and he recalled the girl, and all the rest of what had happened afterwards. There had been a great deal of drinking, and the press of rough costumed bodies around him. He realised now he had been very lucky indeed to get back to the inn unscathed.
He felt as if his whole life had changed. He thought of sweaty bodies, of lust, his own and the girl’s. The memories still carried an erotic charge that aroused him and made him feel even more ashamed. He rose from the bed, aware that the banging he heard was not entirely caused by his throbbing head. Someone was pounding on the door.
“Wait a moment,” he said in his most commanding voice. He studied himself in the mirror. His costume was crumpled, his features pale, but there was no sign of the shame he expected to be visible there. He had half expected the mark of it to be branded on his brow but he looked completely normal.
“Come on, Sardec, open up” The voice belonged to Paulus, and the tone Sardec thought was unduly familiar. Of course, he realised Paulus was going to be that way from now on. He had knowledge of Sardec’s weakness and it bound them now.
Sardec threw open the door. Paulus, dressed in his costume britches and a shirt, his weapons were strapped on, stood there.
“What’s the hurry?” Sardec asked as languidly as he could.
“You’ve slept well,” said Paulus.
“What do you mean?”
“It’s long past midday. Your little romp last night must really have taken it out of you. Still, these human girls are insatiable, aren’t they? We were surprised when we found you had gone off on your own. We didn’t think you would have had the strength.”
Sardec just looked at him, knowing he was going to have to get used to this jocularity but not liking it one little bit. Another thought hit him; it was past mid-day. He had duties, there were men to supervise, it was time to get back.
“The Colonel wants to speak to you,” said Paulus, almost as an afterthought.
“What about?”
“He didn’t say, but I think something has come up. There’s a messenger down below from the Redoubt.”
“Maybe I should get into uniform first.”
“I would hurry if I was you. He said it was urgent.”
Sardec took a seat in front of the Colonel’s desk. This time it was just the two of them, no clerks, no servants. The paperwork was neatly stacked away.
“I have just received a message from the Lady Asea,” said Xeno. “You and your men are to be prepared to leave from her palace tomorrow at dawn. You are going back to the mountains.”
“Very good, sir.”
