‘Then one among you must remain, to remember them. That one will be you. What is your name?’
‘Lilac’
Trull studied the sky. It seemed there would be no let-up in the downpour. ‘Come with me. I must speak to my brother.’
Tiste Edur warriors were entering the city. No Letherii soldiers were visible on the walls, or at the bastions. The gates had been sundered some time during the battle, struck by sorcery. Twisted pieces of bronze and splintered wood studded the muddy ground, amidst strewn corpses.
The demon had collected a double-bladed axe near the body of one of its kind and now carried it over a shoulder. For all its size, Lilac moved quietly, shortening its stride to stay alongside Trull. He noted that the pattern of its breathing was odd. After a deep breath it took another, shorter one, followed by a faintly whistling exhalation that did not seem to come from its broad, flattened nose.
‘Lilac, are you fully healed?’
‘I am.’
Ahead lay the rampart where four mages had stood. Three of them had been obliterated in the first wave of sorcery. On the berm’s summit now were gathered Fear and a number of officers. And two prisoners.
The slope was treacherous underfoot as Trull and the demon made their ascent. Red, muddy streams, bodies slowly sliding down. Wraiths moved through the rain as if still hunting victims. From the west came the low rumble of thunder.
They reached the rampart’s summit. Trull saw that one of the prisoners was Prince Quillas. He did not seem injured. The other was a vvoman in mud-spattered armour. She wore no helmet and had taken a head wound, staining the left side of her face with streaks of blood. Her eyes were glazed with shock.
Fear had turned to regard Trull and the demon, his expression closed. ‘Brother,’ he said tonelessly, ‘it seems we have captured two personages of the royal family.’
‘This is Queen Janall?’
‘The prince expects we will ransom them,’ Fear said. ‘He does not seem to understand the situation.’
‘And what is the situation?’ Trull asked.
‘Our emperor wants these two. For himself.’
‘Fear, we are not in the habit of parading prisoners.’
A flicker of rage in Fear’s eyes, but his voice remained calm. ‘I see you have had your demon healed. What do you want?’
‘I want this KenylPrah in my charge.’
Fear studied the huge creature. Then he shrugged and turned away. ‘As you like. Leave us now, Trull. I will seek you out later… for a private word.’
Trull flinched. ‘Very well.’
The world felt broken now, irreparably broken.
‘Go.’
‘Come with me, Lilac,’ Trull said. He paused to glance over at Prince Quillas, and saw the terror in the young Letherii’s visage. Rhulad wanted him, and the queen. Why?
They walked the killing field, the rain pummelling down in a soft roar, devastation and slaughter on all sides. Figures were moving about here and there. Tiste Edur seeking fallen comrades, wraiths on senseless patrols. The thunder was closer.
‘There is a river,’ Lilac said. ‘I smelled it when we first arrived. It is the same river as ran beneath the bridge.’
‘Yes,’ Trull replied. ‘The Katter River.’
‘I would see it.’
‘Why not?’
They angled northwest. Reached the loggers’ road that ran parallel to the forest and followed its three-rutted track until the treeline thinned on their right, and the river became visible.
‘Ah,’ Lilac murmured, ‘it is so small…’
Trull studied the fast-flowing water, the glittering skin it cast over boulders. ‘A caster of nets,’ he said.
‘My home, Denier.’
The Tiste Edur walked down to the river’s edge. He reached and plunged his bloodstained hand into the icy water.
‘Are there not fish in there?’ Lilac asked.
‘I am sure there are. Why?’
‘In the river where I live, there are n’purel, the Whiskered Fish. They can eat a Kenyll’rah youth whole, and there are some in the deep lakes that could well eat an adult such as myself. Of course, we never venture onto the deeps. Are there no such creatures here?’
‘In the seas,’ Trull replied, ‘there are sharks. And, of course, there are plenty of stories of larger monsters, some big enough to sink ships.’
‘The n’purel then crawl onto shore and shed their skins, whereupon they live on land.’
‘That is a strange thing,’ Trull said, glancing back at the demon. ‘I gather that casting nets is a dangerous activity, then.’
Lilac shrugged. ‘No more dangerous than hunting spiders, Denier.’
‘Call me Trull’
‘You are an Arbiter of Life, a Denier of Freedom. You are the Stealer of my Death-’
‘All right. Never mind.’
‘What war is this?’
‘A pointless one.’
‘They are all pointless, Denier. Subjugation and defeat breed resentment and hatred, and such things cannot be bribed away.’
‘Unless the spirit of the defeated is crushed,’ Trull said. ‘Absolutely crushed, such as with the Nerek and the Faraed and Tarthenal.’
‘I do not know those people, Denier.’
‘They are among those the Letherii – our enemy in this war – have conquered.’
‘And you think them broken?’
‘They are that, Lilac’
‘It may not be as it seems.’
Trull shrugged. ‘Perhaps you are right.’
‘Will their station change under your rule?’
‘I suspect not.’
‘If you understand all this, Denier, why do you fight?’
The sound of moccasins on gravel behind them. Trull straightened and turned to see Fear approaching. In his hand was a Letherii sword.
Trull considered readying the spear strapped to his back, then decided against it. Despite what he’d said earlier, he was not prepared to fight his brother.
‘This weapon,’ Fear said as he halted five paces from Trull, ‘is Letherii steel.’
‘I saw them on the field of battle. They defied the K’risnan sorcery, when all else was destroyed. Swords, spear-heads, undamaged.’ Trull studied his brother. ‘What of it?’
Fear hesitated, then looked out on the river. ‘It is what I do not understand. How did they achieve such a thing as this steel? They are a corrupt, vicious people, Trull. They do not deserve such advances in craft.’
‘Why them and not us?’ Trull asked, then he smiled. ‘Fear, the Letherii are a forward-looking people, and so inherently driven. We Edur do not and have never possessed such a force of will. We have our Blackwood, but we have always possessed that. Our ancestors brought it with them from Emurlahn. Brother, we look back-’
‘To the time when Father Shadow ruled over us,’ Fear cut in, his expression darkening. ‘Hannan Mosag speaks the truth. We must devour the Letherii, we must set a yoke upon them, and so profit from their natural drive to foment change.’
‘And what will that do to us, brother? We resist change, we do not worship it, we do not thrive in its midst the way the Letherii do. Besides, I am not convinced that theirs is the right way to live. I suspect their faith in
