Orb Sceptre Throne

Blinking, she waved him off. ‘I’ll stay here,’ she mumbled.

‘If you sleep any longer out here you will never awaken.’

She heard the words but somehow they didn’t mean anything. She shut her eyes. ‘Tired.’

Disjointed images followed. She became aware of being carried. Of crossbows firing and Lo before them, his sword a humming blur. Next she was jarred awake briefly to find herself lying sprawled on the ground while before her Sall and Lo fought side by side facing a score of armed men and women emerging from a steep cliff path. Then, she was carried in Sall’s arms while he stepped over bodies sprawled across the rock steps and, from far ahead, she heard panicked yells and the clash of iron.

She awoke to daylight shining in upon a crude circular dwelling of piled rocks. She was lying among hides and blankets. A low fire in a central hearth sent tendrils of blue smoke up through a hole in a roof of laid branches. Two small figures, a boy and a girl, leapt to their feet from next to the hearth and brought her bread and a bowl. ‘Eat,’ said the girl.

She took the flat unleavened bread, tore off a piece. ‘Where am I?’

‘You see,’ the boy hissed to the girl, ‘she can speak.’

Yusek thought she might know what the lad meant by that. ‘Where am I?’ she repeated.

‘Dernan’s-’ the boy began, then flinched as if terrified. ‘Well, that is … your camp, I guess.’

She eyed them, frowning, while she chewed. ‘What do you mean — mine?’

‘Are you their princess?’ the girl asked, her eyes huge.

Yusek coughed on her bread. She forced it down, her eyes watering. ‘Their what?’

‘Are they your servants? They carried you in. Are they Ascendants? They killed everyone.’

‘Not everyone,’ sneered the boy.

‘Well, not us slaves.’

‘Slaves?’

The light was occluded as someone ducked into the hut. It was an old man, pole slim and dressed in a threadbare linen shirt that hung to his bony shins. He bowed his head to Yusek. ‘You are awake. Excellent.’

‘Who’re you?’

‘Bo’ahl Leth. They call me Bo. You may too.’

‘Bo?’

The man raised his sharp narrow shoulders in a sort of apology. ‘It amused Dernan.’

‘Where’s he?’

‘Dernan?’ Bo raised his greying brows as if he himself could not believe what he was about to say. ‘Well, searching for his head, thanks to your friends.’

A coiled band that Yusek did not even know was wound around her chest loosened. She let out her breath. ‘So — it’s over. They won.’

The man’s expressive face clouded with distaste. ‘Won?’ he repeated. ‘That is a rather coarse way to put it. Many men and women lost their lives yesterday. No one wins when so many die.’

‘Those standing do.’

He regarded her now in disappointment. ‘Ah, I see. My mistake.’

Yusek found that she cared nothing for the old man’s disapproval. She pushed herself to her feet; she was weak and dizzy but she could stand. ‘Where are they?’

‘Keeping watch.’

‘Take me to them,’ she demanded. He gestured to the exit.

Outside lay a circle of stone huts atop a bare hillock surrounded by what appeared to be steep cliffs on most sides. Bo led her up a path. Then Yusek remembered: ‘Lorkal! You know her? Where is she?’

Bo halted and turned back to her, pained. ‘Ah … Lorkal.’ His gaze lowered. ‘Yes, I knew her.’

The band of iron returned to Yusek’s chest. She found it difficult to breathe. ‘Take me to her.’

‘It would do no good …’

Yusek’s jaws clenched. ‘Take me to her.’

He lowered his head. ‘This way.’

The bodies had been collected to one side of the village, next to a rocky field where men and women, all ex- slaves or bondsmen, were at work digging a trench. They paused at Yusek’s approach, peering at her in curiosity. A few bowed. It did not take her long to find Lorkal. Like all the bodies hers had been stripped of arms and armour and wore only a long linen undershirt, stained with blood. Yusek studied the bruising, the cuts, the flesh of the wrists torn and bloodied. Tortured to death.

She turned on the skinny old man. Cold wetness chilled her cheeks. ‘Did you stand by and look on disapprovingly while this happened?’ She was hardly able to grind out the words.

He would not meet her gaze. ‘I’m sorry. Dernan didn’t believe her. Who would have? They never come this far north. What do they want? Why are they here?’

Yusek had knelt at Lorkal’s feet. She adjusted the shirt to cover the woman’s legs. What lesson am I to take from this, Lorkal? Were your actions brave? Stupid? I suppose all that can be said is that you held to your convictions. Perhaps that’s the best that can be said of anyone. Yet now here you are, dead. Am I the coward, then, for always walking away? Well — at least I’m still alive.

She fought down the tightness in her throat. ‘They’re looking for a monastery. One that’s supposed to be north of here.’

The breath hissed from the old man. ‘Gods, no …’

Yusek looked at him sharply. He gripped his neck. Something like panic had entered his eyes. She straightened. ‘You know what they’re looking for.’

‘I … can’t say.’

Yusek found her hand had gone to her long-knife. ‘Can’t? Or won’t?’

His gaze took in her tensed grip. ‘What is your name, child?’

‘Do not call me child.’

He searched her face. ‘No … I suppose not. My mistake again. Would you give me your name?’

‘Yusek.’

He nodded. ‘Come, Yusek. Let us talk.’ He invited her back to the huts. After one last glance at Lorkal, she followed.

‘What do you know of the Ascendants?’ he asked as they walked along, his breath pluming in the frigid early-morning air. They were higher up here and Yusek shuddered anew — her leathers and underclothes were still damp and they were sucking the warmth from her once again.

‘Ascendants?’ she answered, bemused. ‘Just what I’ve heard in stories and such. Why?’

He led her back to the hut she had woken in. The two children jumped away from the hearth, where the plate and bowl now sat empty. He clapped his hands. ‘Go gather a selection of clothes.’ The pair bowed to Yusek and dashed from the hut. He sat next to the hearth, began rebuilding the fire. She sat as well, willing to grant the man a few moments before she left to find Sall.

‘Ascendants,’ he began. ‘I mention them because they are very few and far between, yes? Yet so many must arise in potential or power, only to fall short. We know of how many? The Warlord, the Lord of Moon’s Spawn, one or two others. Why do so few achieve such heights?’

‘What are you? Some kind of scholar?’

A small shrug. ‘Scholarship is a hobby only. I am a mage.’

Yusek stared at him; this was the first man or woman she’d ever met of any self-admitted talent. ‘A mage? Really? Why didn’t you blast Dernan to ash?’

Tolerant amusement twitched his mouth. ‘Mages whose, ah, aspects are useful in warfare or in combat are a very small minority, I assure you.’

Yusek wasn’t sure what to make of him or all this talk. ‘You have a point? Because I’m not in the mood to chat.’

He raised a hand to beg her indulgence. ‘The children are gone to gather you warm clothes. Surely I have until then?’

She merely grunted to urge him on.

‘I believe there are many more Ascendants out there in the world, of course. Most are far less — how shall I