three. I did not know if Bemossed could feel her burning passion for life as I did, like a white-hot sword thrust through my belly. He was like a man discovering a new land of beauty and wonder. He kept touching his fingertips to her eye hollows, oblivious of time, oblivious of me. I doubted if he purposed to inflame my jealousy; I doubted as well that he would have acted otherwise solely because it distressed me.
In truth, I sensed much in his encounter with Atara that distressed him. His fingers and hands began trembling, and he seemed barely able to contain his own blazing passions. If the sun shone all day and all night, I thought, it would incinerate everything that it touched. I felt him again clamping down on the desire that surged through him, this time closing off his heart. After resting his hand upon her cheek, he finally broke off touching her altogether. He wrapped a new blindfold for her, and tied it around her head. Then he went off to help Estrella comb the mud out of the horses' coats.
Later that night, before bed, I stood with Atara in the moonlight. As it had been for most of the miles since the Skadarak, she still seemed totally blind. I said to her, 'Maram's wound is no better — do you feel anything, where Bemossed touched you?'
She rested her fingers on her blindfold and laughed out, 'I think you feel something that you needn't. You've no cause for worry on this account.'
'I'm not worried,' I told her.
She reached out to grasp my hand as when I had first met her and we sat together beneath the stars. She said to me, 'Bemossed would be an easy man to love, I think, but never as I do you. He is like the brother I never had.'
She kissed me on the lips, lightly, and then went off to sleep inside the cart with Liljana and Estrella. I lay down by the fire, staring up for hours at the silver moon and the bright arrays of stars. A single question burned through my mind deep into my soul: Why did it seem to be Bemossed's fate to heal in love and light, while mine drove me on to strike my sword into others and slay?
In the morning we set out again to the east. The road led slightly downhill toward the low country around the Iona River. As I drove the cart, Bemossed sat on the seat opposite me, with Estrella in between. For hours, he said nothing. He tried not to look at Atara, riding along on her roan mare ahead of us, or at me. He stared out at the fields of cotton and the rice bogs, and the occasional stretches of forest, and I wondered if his service to various masters had ever taken him through this steamy country. I fell him brooding over matters that he would not speak of. I sensed in him an anguish of the soul which, strangely, he seemed to cherish and hold onto, as he did other dark moods and sensations. I thought he was too much at home inside himself with all the colon of his feelings: the blue of his awe and sorrow for the world; the violet of his unfulfilled desire; the red of his great anger toward me.
For most of his life, I thought, he had necessarily looked to himself alone for any succor or understanding. But with his touching of Atara, some deep drive to trust others seemed to open inside him. As the miles passed behind us that long, hot day, I sensed him finding a deep accord with Estrella, and she with him. He spoke to her of little things, which she smiled at or commented upon with a flutter of her fingers or an arching of her eyebrows. And she seemed to speak to him. And not just to him but of him: her lovely, open face shone as brightly as any mirror, reflecting the glories of his soul that she found within him. Without being conscious of this talent, I thought, she showed me Bemossed's kindness, his compassion, generosity, fire and an otherworldly grace.
But there were darker things, too: stubbornness, jealousy, and an excruciating sensitivity to other people and to the world. He carried deep in his eyes intimations of despair and doom. I sensed that he felt flawed in a fundamental way. Then, too, I think he feared the long, dark night of the spirit when he found himself cast out into the deadness of the world and could not find his way back to his secret land. It came to me, as I saw him touching his fingers to Estrella's throat and his eyes grew bright and fey, that he sought this abidance through healing. And at least a part of this primeval urge to make things whole he directed at me. This amazed me: that despite his ire, despite his dread of my wrath and my fury for vengeance upon my enemies, he still wished to restore me to my best self and to bring out in me only the good, the beautiful and the true.
We made camp that night in a clearing in a wood to the south of the road not five miles from Orun. While Liljana and Estrella began preparing dinner, Kane galloped off to scout ahead and ensure that we might make the river crossing without running into King Arsu's army marching down the road from Avrian. He returned two hours later to a bowl of stew that Liljana had kept warm for him. Between bites of steaming okra, maize and beef, he told us, 'The army hasn't passed yet, but it's expected any day. We'll do well to be up early tomorrow and cross over the Black Bridge as soon as they open it for taking tolls.'
I might have hoped that Kane would join us in retiring early, taking a little rest, if not sleep. Instead, he set up on the side of the cart a painted wooden target. He took out the seven knives that he had ordered from the smith in Ramlan. They were each long and tapered to a fine point, perfectly balanced and razor-sharp. He stood on bracken-covered ground oblivious of the mosquitoes that came out and whined through the semi-darkness; he hurled his knives spinning through the air, trying to fit as many as he could into the small, white circle at the center of the target. The small moon above the trees cast but little light for him to make out the target's rings. How he worked such magic remained to me a mystery. Warriors of Mesh cast lances at targets, and used knives to cut meat or other men, but we rarely learned this art that Kane now displayed with such great determination and virtuosity.
Later, Liljana brewed up some tea for us, and for Kane, some thick Khevaju coffee which Bemossed brought to him steaming in his cup. Everyone except Kane retired soon after that. He took long slow sips of his dark drink in between his target practice. I tried to fall asleep to the thunk, thunk, thunk of steel driving into wood. In watching Kane all ashimmer in the moonlight, in looking over at Bemossed stretched out in a troubled stillness by the fire, I brooded over the mystery of men. Would the brilliance of our spirits someday lift us up toward the stars? Or would our inborn flaws drive deep through our hearts, dividing us against ourselves and letting in the darkness?
It was in that strange time between darkness and day that I awoke to a sense that something was wrong. Mosquitoes whined about me without pity; frogs croaked from some water deeper in the woods. A faint light suffused the trees and undergrowth, while the fire had burnt out completely. I sat up to take stock of Master Juwain, Maram and Daj sleeping near me. Over by the fence surrounding our encampment, unbelievably, Kane seemed to be sleeping, too. But Bemossed was nowhere to be seen.
My first thought upon noting this shamed me: that he and Atara had stolen off into the woods together. My second thought frightened me, for I feared that Bemossed had run away. As quickly as I could, I stepped over to Kane and bent down to shake him awake. This proved harder than I would have supposed. When Kane finally opened his eyes in a burst of consciousness, though, he whipped himself into motion, sliding out a dagger and nearly disembowelling me before I moved aside and shouted at him: 'Kane! It is only me — Valashu!' 'Val!' he shouted back. 'Val — what happened?' Our cries aroused our companions. Maram and Master Juwain came over to us in a hurry; a few moments later, the door to the cart opened, and Atara came out with her unstrung bow in her hand. She joined us by the fence, and so did Estrella and Liljana, Kane rubbed at his eyes and said, 'I don't know what happened.' When I told of how I had found him, Maram upbraided Kane, saying, 'You fell asleep, that's what happened. You, the invincible Kane, the ever-watchful the ever-waking: you finally closed your damn eyes like any other human being and — '
'So,' Kane growled out. He sliced his dagger in the air inches from Ma ram's throat as if to silence him. 'I never just fall asleep.'
Liljana noticed Kane's cup dropped down onto the forest floor near the fence. A residue of coffee stained its insides. She picked up the cup and sniffed at it. Then she said to Kane, 'I remember Bemossed bringing you your coffee. He must have slipped a soporific into it.'
'One of your sleeping potions, then? You should be more careful Liljana.'
'You should be careful,' she told him. 'Of what you say. I've kept my medicines safe enough, and so has Master Juwain.'
She went on to say that she detected a faint, bittersweet odor of some botanical emanating from the cup, but it was neither that of mandrake or poppy or anything else familiar to her. 'But many plants here in Hesperu are strange to me. It seems likely that Bemossed must have stolen a soporific from Mangus before we left Jhamrul.'
'So,' Kane said, hurling the cup down to the ground, 'I should have smelled it, too.'
And I, I thought, should have turned my mind toward suspecting that Bemossed might be planning an escape, for I had surely known it in my heart. And then Atara reminded both me and Kane: 'This is no time for
