'Neh, you have nothing to apologize for. Sheh! You thought I was dead. And even if I weren't, I hope I would never be the kind of person who was jealous of the Merciless One. Let it go, Joss.'
After all these years, he could not.' 'Do you still love me, Mark?'
She wiped her face. 'I love the memory of the love we shared then. How can I know if I love you now? I'm not so naive, nor should you be. I'm a Guardian. I have my duty, and you have yours. Please tell me you understand.' She did not look at him. She did not want to know if he was lying or telling the truth.
He rose and paced away, his back to the fire. 'What must I do?'
She rested on her hands until she was no longer shaking. Then she rose and wiped her face a final time, organized her thoughts as she would when, as a reeve, she was reporting to her marshal. This is what I have seen. First, Herelia is poisoned. That is where they've built their stronghold. Wedrewe is a stranglehold gripping the throats of every person who lives within the cloak of their power. Wherever they extend their control, they choke until those they rule are grateful merely to be living. Second, I have come to see that in the days long ago the reeves were organized differently than they are now. They ranged more widely, and spread their perches into more outposts. They weren't all gathered into a few halls.'
'Then why do the tales speak of six reeve halls?'
'The tales speak of 'the fifteen towns' of the Hundred, but that does not mean there are only fifteen towns today. A reeve hall might have meant something different in the tales. We say it is an actual place, but maybe it used to mean — oh — an allegiance, or a breeding line of eagles.'
'Family groupings,' he said, musing. 'It's true, I'm trying to implement new patrol protocols, even methods of fighting in concert with our allies. But not all the reeve halls will join me. I've got to be cautious in how I approach them.'
'Don't wait too long to act. A newly trained cohort has already marched from Herelia to join the main army. Another will march
within the month, and a third in three months. Fifteen cohorts they have in number.'
'Fifteen?'
'They will train more, whether with willing recruits or unwilling ones. These are the people who hang prisoners from poles. Surely you've seen-'
'I know what we face! We have Olo'osson's support. There's an outlander captain named Anji who is training an army, and he's very good. But how can we defeat an army that boasts fifteen cohorts of fighting men and is commanded by Guardians, none of whom we can stand against?'
'What if I told you there was a way to separate a Guardian from the cloak, to release that cloak to find a new vessel? Maybe a cleaner spirit, one who has not crossed the Shadow Gate.'
He became still, as if holding his breath; it seemed the wind itself ceased. 'Are you saying I could kill you?'
'Yes. If you could take me by surprise, render me senseless so you could separate the cloak from my body. Or if I let you because I was desperate enough to welcome oblivion.'
'Are you that desperate, Marit?'
She could hear how badly he wanted her to answer no. He wanted her to be alive for his own sake as much as for hers. Yet she must consider dispassionately. She must delve into her own heart, her own spirit. Aui! How strongly that heart beat; how powerfully that spirit flamed!
'No. I'm not that desperate. I don't want oblivion.' Her voice trembled with the the ferocity of her desire, unexamined until now. 'I want to be alive. Even in such times, in these days, in this situation, I want to walk and breathe-' She shut her eyes, wondering if he would take the moment to draw his sword and run her through. 'Great Lady. Therefore I am already corrupt.'
Words spoken months ago by the woman who wore the cloak of Night, on the first occasion Marit had encountered her, sounded ominous and revealing now.
'In the end even death can be defeated.'
Could it be that simple?
All thinking, speaking creatures — the eight children of the Four Mothers — expected to die. But what if certain individuals were thrust out of death back into life? If the cloaks held a dead spirit in this world in order to serve them by measuring truth to exact justice, might that spirit, grasping its second chance at life, fear
more than anything having to let go and cross the threshold of the Spirit Gate into darkness and oblivion?
Did the cloak of Night fear the second death so greatly that she had corrupted the council of the Guardians and now allowed this vile army to trample and destroy land and village and lives just to protect herself? Could anyone be that selfish?
'What you offer is more of a burden than a gift,' said Joss softly.
She understood where her duty lay. She was a Guardian. She had to serve the land.
She spoke toward the distant tower of Ammadit's Tit, where the end of their days together had begun. 'Maybe so, Joss. But war has come. The tale has changed. Let me tell you how to kill a Guardian.'
PART FIVE
Weapons
23
'We're back in the Hundred at last,' said Keshad to Eliar.
At the side of the road stood a white post. The name of the road, West Spur, was carved below the top in the old writing, and a single groove marked the first mey of the road. A wayfarer's lamp could be fixed to the post at night or in a storm. Today, although cold, was quiet, not even very windy. The caravan had climbed through snowfall on the southern side of the pass as the seasonal rains began their cycle; here on the northern side, they walked into the dry season.
But they hadn't left the worst tempest behind.
She approached on horseback. Her headdress glimmered with enough gold and gems to tempt the most cautious bandit. Why the old woman nrust flaunt her wealth Kesh could not imagine, but he supposed the five hundred Qin soldiers who accompanied rhem would slaughter importunate thieves.
With ten stolid Qin soldiers in escort, she reined in beside Keshad. Over the weeks, she had adapted her dialect of the trade speech to mimic Kesh and Eliar's by insisting they instruct her — and her chief eunuchs — every night. 'This is the border gate, is it not? I will speak to the captain in charge.'
'Your Excellency,' said Kesh quickly, 'of course you shall speak to the captain in charge. Please offer to me a moment's generosity and allow me to present our party and its purpose to the officer before you convey your requests.'
Captain Anji had her eyes: handsome, dark, and cutting. 'You fear I will offend some minor functionary, who will then refuse us entry simply to spite any woman who speaks bluntly to him.'
'Maybe that is how it works in the empire, Your Excellency, but I assure you that in the Hundred, women speak as bluntly as men. Let me first explain why he should admit five hundred out-lander soldiers. Unless you would prefer to send the military escort back to the empire and proceed with only the wagons.'
'Not at all! My old friend and ally Commander Beje sent these troops to me as a gift.'
'Naturally, Your Excellency, you can then imagine-'
'You need not repeat yourself!'
'I beg your pardon, Your Excellency.'
'You do not.' She was not angry, merely speaking exactly as she thought. 'However, you are right. I have endured the distrust meted out to a foreigner for all of my adult years. As you are a son of this land, you are correct to remind me it will be no different here.'
He glanced at Eliar, but the Silver was stalwartly staring up at a rugged mountain peak just off to the east, its bare summit surrounded on all sides of cliffs. Was that a wink of light on the high peak's icy summit? Surely not;
