Guyrin nearly lost a hand to a whipvine while he lay insensate athwart his zephyr, so now she let him spend more and more time alert. He was shockingly compliant and a more-than-decent travelling companion. She didn’t trust him for a minute. He was too quick to smile, too free with his laughter, and he liked to tell them stories of his past as a thief. He wanted something; she was sure of it. No one was so pleasant otherwise.
Gamarron confided in her more and more as the days passed, so she tolerated the intolerable conditions and promised herself to make him pay for it later. As they rode, he spoke of the years he’d spent subduing and unifying the tribes of Black Island, and how he’d led his people in the first successful attacks against the demons his people had known in more than a hundred and fifty years. It was inspiring. He was a man that others would follow. Just as it had happened in the North, so it would happen here. He professed to have no interest in ruling anywhere beyond the Black Isle, but she would cure him of that soon enough.
In truth, Kest was why she spent more time with the savage. She avoided her pretty young lad now. Except he’s not your pretty young lad anymore, is he? He hates what you did, and you can barely look at him. She still felt the same traitorous tenderness for him, but now his face wounded her. The compound eye construct was the most complex, devious work of genius any Hand had ever accomplished… and it should never have seen the light of day. It gave a gift, yes, but it would have made even the most hideous of men uglier. In Kest’s face it was practically a crime. No one would ever love that face. She never looked at the lad when he spoke now.
Incredibly, Kest bore his burden with grace. He had taken to wearing his eye patch again. It did not impede his heat vision, and if he needed the extra acuity and response time the little array of eyes gave him, he simply flipped the patch up and out of the way. Sweet soul that he was, he always warned them first. Nevertheless, he seemed more withdrawn than before. And that’s your fault too.
They were well into Naga territory now, and Nira never ceased to whinge about the danger of it all. Renna could have repeated her arguments verbatim at this point. She wished the snotty little thing would grow a pair of balls already. Hmm. Could additional genitalia be attached via an insectile lymph system? A person could have children without needing a mate. She filed the idea away for the future. It might be worth stealing another witchwood dagger for such a project. She had a hundred such ideas bouncing around. One of them would make her a great name someday, and then...
No, those are old dreams. Her squabbles with the Mothers Superior, her striving for power in the priesthood – it all seemed so small-minded now. Gaia will run the world as she pleases. Whether I am Fourth Class or First makes no real difference. The pull of Gamarron’s quest and all the wonderful challenges that would follow filled her mind at night now. The Handmaiden of Gaia herself will come to bow to him one day, and when she does, she’ll see me at his shoulder, speaking in his ear. The thought was as sweet as nectar.
Kest was speaking when she surfaced from her reverie. He spent most of his time now serving as a forward scout. He could move faster on foot through the jungle than they could mounted, and his tracking skills kept them from running afoul of the Naga. The monsters could be anywhere. “We’re coming up on a clearing. Not even a clearing – a field, a huge one. It looks like there was a battle. I didn’t get too close. We should go around.” He had his eye patch on, thankfully. She could see the puckered flesh of the implant around its edges.
“How big is the field?” asked Gamarron.
The boy shrugged. “A kilometer across? Two?”
“Garrett did say Far East was going to join battle sometime soon,” Renna reminded the group. “Maybe that’s what this is.”
“I’ve never seen a battlefield,” chirped Guyrin.
“Why would you want to?” Nira asked, disgusted.
“Truly, it is not pleasant,” Gamarron agreed. “If I could forget every battlefield I’d ever seen, I would lose nothing.”
“It’s always good to see what men are capable of,” the chaos wilder said, his wild yellow eyes glinting. “It makes you wise.”
“Any sense for which side won?” Gamarron asked Kest.
“No, sir. I didn’t get close.” Whatever issues Kest had with his erstwhile chief, he kept them under control when there was work to be done.
After a moment’s thought, the old man said, “Let’s skirt the edge. If there are still Naga patrols in the area, it could be the perfect chance to follow them back to their hidden city.” Kest nodded and trotted off, keeping himself to a speed that they could match on zephyrback.
The battlefield was truly massive. Tree stumps littered its expanse; the clearing had apparently been uncut jungle not too many months past. It was a grey, gloomy day, and a pall of fog obscured the forest on the far side of the field. They kept to the forest’s edge, wending their way around so as to keep five or six ranks of trees between themselves and any remaining observers. None of the others wanted to go any closer to the battlefield. Even Guyrin had a frown on his face and didn’t look too hard. Cowards, all of them. Renna made a point of scanning the field, keeping a firm mask of bored indifference.
The huge clearing was littered with the dead and dying. Human, mostly, from the looks of things,
