“You thought what?” he asked. Other soldiers were looking at them now. He knew why; three new girls in camp, without any male companions. Rik glanced at them, and something they saw in his face made the soldiers move on.
“I thought…I don’t know what I thought. I thought you might be glad to see me.” I am, he wanted to say. “I’m not,” his angry vindictive voice said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth and he saw the damage done, he regretted it.
“You’re a bastard,” she said.
“I know. I told you that.”
Regret flickered across her face. “That’s not what I meant.”
“I don’t care what you meant. I don’t care why you are here. Maybe you should try Lieutenant Sardec. I am sure he would be glad to see you.”
He turned and strode away.
“You really told her,” said the Barbarian. “She’s crying.”
“Piss off,” Rik told him.
Rik lay on his back and looked up at the stars. He lay on the soft hillside, far from the tents. He did not want to be with his friends at the moment. He wanted to be alone, to calm down. He could hear the sounds of the camp settling down for the night: soldiers arguing, children crying, women chatting. In the distance wyrms bellowed sleepily. From somewhere came the sound of a small group of Terrarch officers playing their complex and weirdly beautiful music. It did not help. He still seethed with rage: at Rena, at his stupid friends, at Sardec, at Asea, at the world.
He was surprised by the deep well of emotion he had found inside himself. It was like opening a magic door and discovering a whole new continent of anger and resentment. He realised how much he had been keeping these feelings on a leash over the past few months. He saw the rage that was in him still, against the world, the Terrarchs, the things that had killed Leon, and would most likely kill him. And he saw that, somehow, some connection had been forged between Rena and that world of emotion and betrayal. He had let his guard down for just one instant, he thought, and she had hurt him. And he was not going to allow that to happen again.
How was it that a woman he had known for such a short time had managed to get so completely under his skin?
She was out there now. He could find her if he wanted, and tell her exactly what he thought of her. His pointless futile rage demanded it of him, that he should find her and rend at her emotionally, as she had torn at him.
She had clearly expected him to behave differently. Did she think he was stupid? Did she really think he would want to be with her after what had happened?
A shadow fell on him. Rik looked up and was surprised to see Karim standing there. Either he was very distracted or Karim was very quiet, or both. The Southerner studied him for a moment. “It has cost me a great deal of effort to find you,” Karim said. His eyes caught the light like those of a dog. What had been done to this man, Rik wondered?
“You must have a good reason to keep you at it for so long. Would you like to share it with me?” He immediately regretted the flippant tone of his words. Karim gave the impression of being someone he did not want to get on the wrong side of.
“My mistress desires your company.” Karim’s words were polite. His tone was calm and yet somehow he managed to seem immensely threatening. Rik told himself it was just his imagination, but he knew it was not.
“Then perhaps you should lead me to her.”
“Follow me,” said Karim. Rik was glad of the distraction.
Sardec walked through the camp. After the battle and the meeting of the officers, he had a sense of letdown at being left with his own company. He did not want to go back to his tent. He did not want to try and sleep. He was not sure what he wanted. He was restless.
Soon he would have to leave for Morven. He would have to escort Lady Asea on her mission to talk with Lord Ilmarec. His role was pre-ordained and subordinate. Although Asea had no formal military rank, he would be serving her. She was of the First, and enjoyed the confidence of both Queen Arielle and the General. She knew Ilmarec of old, so she was a far more suitable emissary than he.
He turned and stalked down through another line of tents, where the humans sat round the camp fires and talked. Whole families had gathered there; mothers holding children, fathers telling stories. Sardec felt something like envy. He knew he should despise the humans for their weakness, for their constant breeding, for their lack of self-control, but he could not help but wonder what it would be like to part of one of those families.
Among Terrarchs children were rare. Sometimes they came decades, even centuries apart, often they never came at all. There was often a greater gap in age than there was between those human children and their parents or even grandparents. The relationships he had with all his relatives, even those he loved and admired like his father, were cool and distant.
Had he missed something growing up? Servants and tutors had raised him, and many of those had been humans, forbidden to get close to him, although he could see now what he had never allowed himself to see before, that many of them had cared for him in ways that they were not allowed to express. He told himself that it was absurd that he should care about that or the feelings he had never shared with his ayahs and teachers, but he found that he did.
He watched a man and a woman stride off into the dark arm in arm, and he knew what they were about. It drove his thoughts to another darker turn, to the events of Solace night when he had slept with that human girl. It had been the most erotically charged moment of his life, a shameful pleasure that he had thought he would enjoy again, but had not, for shortly thereafter he had been dispatched to Deep Achenar, and had lost his hand. The next few months had been spent recuperating from his wounds, listlessly enduring spells and surgery and drugs that dulled his senses and his appetites. Now he found his mind turning to thoughts of sex again, and of other things, he did not want to discuss with his fellow officers.
He knew there were others who had done such things, who sated their lusts, but it seemed to him to be a very coarse thing, and not something to be talked about. To be honest he had not seen another human wench who had moved him the way the first one had. Perhaps it was the wound, or perhaps it was the circumstances on that fatal night had been particularly unfortunate.
Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, he caught sight of a strangely familiar face. It was so odd that he had to look again to be certain that he was correct and he was disturbed to discover that he was. It was the human girl, Rena, sitting near a fire with two other women, and two men. They seemed to be arguing about something, and Sardec would have walked past had not one of the men lunged at the girl, half-playfully, half angrily, seemingly determined to have his way by force. It was the sort of thing that Sardec supposed must happen often in the camp. Certainly none of the passers-by seemed disposed to interfere, but it struck him as wrong so he strode over and said:
“What is going on here?” The man looked up angrily, about to utter a curse until he noticed who and what Sardec was. His face went calm and cold for he feared the whipping that Sardec could order if not shown the correct degree of respect.
“Nothing, sir. Just having a bit of fun.” Sardec turned to the girl. She looked astonished, for she had obviously just recognised him. Sardec found himself stirred by her lush beauty as he had been before.
“Is that true?” he asked.
“I am sure Jamis meant no harm, sir.” She sounded torn between telling the truth and getting the man into very painful trouble.
“A word with you, girl.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“In private.”
The others took the hint and moved away. They look relieved to be going. Rena looked nervous. Now that they were alone Sardec found that he did not quite know what he was going to say.
“I did not think I would see you again,” he said. “You did not seem like one of the girls who follows the army.”
Her eyes locked on his quite boldly. He held her gaze.
“I was not happy at Ma Horne’s, after the army left. It was not so busy and the men were not so…
