Waterborn

seemed to jab at him from the maelstrom of his thoughts. About the River walking free, one day, destroying everything. And it was Hezhi's feet the River was to walk upon.

His own legs betrayed him after only a few steps. Grimly he struggled back up, steeling himself for the girl's assault. She had many more strands than the monster he had just faced. He had no chance, but he had to try, for Apad, for Eruka. For the king.

He staggered on, and no attack came. With each step he summoned more of his anger, her face in his dreams that allowed him no sleep. If he could only land a single stroke before he died, his ghost might know at least some peace.

When he was less than a score of steps from her, the strands suddenly unknotted, whipped about like a whirlwind untangling, and swirled back into the water. Hezhi trembled, her eyes wide, sightless, and fell. Her face bore a little smile that seemed almost triumphant. Perkar raised Harka and advanced.

'Can I kill her now?' he gasped.

'With a single stroke. But she is no longer …'

'That is all I need to know.' He stepped forward.

Tsem saw him approach, seemed puzzled an instant before his dull eyes gleamed with understanding. The Giant snarled, raised his bandaged arm to ward off the blow, curled his huge body to protect her. Perkar took the final step, felt Harka, hard and effective in his hands.

'I'm sorry,' he said to the Giant. 'But this ends now.' The Giant did not answer, but followed the gleam of Harka in the moonlight as Perkar raised him.

For the king, he thought again, summoning the image of that hollow ghost, caparisoned and parading at the Changeling's whim. Focusing his anger to make the stroke clean, merciful. Tsem certainly deserved that. But the memory that lit behind his eyes was not of the king, it was of the woman in the cave, the touch of her gaze upon his as her life swiftly ebbed.

An instant before it would have been combat. Now it was murder. Tsem's loyalty did not deserve murder. He closed his eyes and gritted his teeth. This is weakness, he told himself. Avoiding what must be done. But the steadfast light in Tsem's eyes was more adamant than any shield, and the anger in Perkar splintered against it like the flawed weapon it was. Trembling, he lowered Harka, plunging the blade into the black soil, following it down to his knees. A sob of frustration tore loose from his throat. He did not understand—anything. But he couldn't kill Tsem and Hezhi, whatever sort of monster she might have been a moment ago.

'Come on,' he said to Tsem. 'Can you still walk?' Tsem nodded his head in dull affirmation and, still wary, stood, his charge tiny in his huge grip. With Perkar trailing, they walked away from Nhol, away from the River. None of them looked back.

 

 

Near midnight, Tsem finally collapsed, moaning once and then toppling almost gracefully. Perkar disengaged Hezhi from the massive arms. She seemed to be nearly unconscious herself. He did what he could for Tsem's wounds. The cut into his arm was deep, to the bone, and still bleeding. Perkar bound it up tightly. The gut wound was more of a problem; the giant was certainly bleeding inside. The blade had slid into intestines, mostly. Perkar did the only thing he knew. He was too tired and thirsty himself to go much farther, especially carrying Hezhi. He found water in an irrigation ditch and drank as if he had never touched water to his lips before. Then he gathered scrub and brush for a fire.

The Giant shrieked in his sleep when Perkar plunged the burning tip of a branch through his wound, careful to follow the line of the sword puncture. The smell of searing flesh caught at Perkar's nose and nearly made him gag.

When Tsem's shriek died down, Perkar heard a whicker out in the darkness, a sound he would know anywhere. Horses.

Shakily he rose to his feet. The pursuit had come quickly, more quickly than he had imagined. Above him, the clouds were parting as if the stars and moon wanted to watch his last battle. He smiled, mocking that grandiose thought; of course the sky had no care for him. But the Pale Queen was there, resplendent in a double halo, and he found some contentment in the thought that he would die beneath her.

'I'm sorry, Hezhi,' he muttered down to the girl. 'I'm really not very good at this sort of thing, when it comes right down to it.'

She surprised him by speaking. 'I didn't mean to call you,' she said. 'It was… I didn't know what I was doing.'

'It's all right,' he assured her. 'It's done now. I'm not angry, just sorry I couldn't have been more help. Seems that the River's plan for you was lacking in detail.'

'The River had no plan for me,' she shot back bitterly, 'save that I should become a monster.'

He shrugged. 'There are horsemen out there—one at least, and he just rode off, I think, to find the rest. They'll be back soon, in force. When they come, hide somewhere; they may think you went on while I stayed here to hold them off.'

'I will stay,' she replied.

'No. Do as I say.'

Hezhi gazed at the sprawling Giant. 'Is he dead?' she asked.

'He wasn't a moment ago; I might have killed him trying to close his wound.' He paused. 'Among my people he would be counted a very brave man.'

Hezhi nodded, tiredly. 'I killed him,' she said.

'If he is dead, he died for you,' Perkar said. 'That isn't the same as you killing him. Believe me, I've had ample time to consider the difference, and the difference is great. We all have to die, Hezhi. It's worth dying a little earlier if the reasons are good enough. His were; he told me he loved you.'

'Yes,' she agreed. 'He did.'

'Hide now,' Perkar whispered. 'Hear? The horses are returning. '

It sounded like a score of them, at least. He took a deep, painful breath. His heart beat weirdly, and he couldn't shake the memory of feeling it stop, of seeing the bloody point of a knife slide out the front of his breast.

'Maybe I'll die this time,' he told Harka.

'And me working so hard to keep you alive? Very ungrateful.'

'I get sick when I think about the things that have happened to my body,' Perkar said. 'No one should have to carry the memory of being stabbed through the heart. Death should soothe that away.'

'I won't apologize,' Harka said. 'Someday you will thank me.'

'I would thank you now, if I could be rid of you.'

'Careful. You'll hurt my feelings.'

He threw back his head and howled. 'Come and get me, walking dead men! I'll pile your bodies around my feet, I'll trample on your sightless eyes!' He wondered if Eruka would be proud of him, quoting verse even as the end came. He howled again.

A horseman broke from the trees, another, and another. The lead horseman grinned at him, a smile that nearly split his head in half.

'If you insist, I suppose,' the rider said. 'Though that isn't really what we had in mind for the night's entertainment.'

Perkar was actually struck dumb. More riders filed into the clearing, wild-looking men on lean, beautiful mounts, hair braided and ornamented with copper, silver, gold. They were all showing him their teeth, fierce, wolflike smiles.

'Ngangata?' Perkar choked out at last.

'Nice to be recognized by such a great hero,' Ngangata replied, leaning with braced hands, palms on his saddle. 'And I would spend some time singing your praises, except for the fact that a contingent of Nholish cavalry will be on us in about two hundred heartbeats. Brother Horse and a few others will slow them down, but we had best ride.'

'Do you have mounts for us?'