Midnight tides

was a wave at their backs, pushing them onwards.

Then, halfway across, the sensation shifted, spun entirely round, as the voices of the warriors in the emperor’s army engulfed them. Their horses balked, and it was a struggle to make them resume the approach.

As they climbed the slope, Trull could see his brother Rhulad more clearly. He was barely recognizable, hulking now beneath the weight of the coins. His forehead was exposed, revealing skin the colour of dirty snow, the contrast darkening the pits of his eyes. His teeth were bared, but it seemed as much a grimace of pain as anything else. Hannan Mosag stood on the emperor’s left, the slave Udinaas on the right. Hull Beddict was positioned three paces behind the Warlock King. Mayen and Uruth were nowhere to be seen.

Arriving, they reined in and dismounted. Slaves appeared to lead the horses away.

Fear strode forward to kneel before the emperor. Across the valley, another surge of sound.

‘My brother,’ Rhulad said in his rasping, broken voice. ‘Rise before us.’ The emperor stepped close and settled a coin-backed hand on Fear’s shoulder. ‘There is much I must say to you, but later.’

‘As you command, Emperor.’

Rhulad’s haunted eyes shifted. ‘Trull.’

He kneeled and studied the ground before him. ‘Emperor.’

‘Rise. We have words for you as well.’

No doubt. ‘Mother arrived safely?’

A flash of irritation. ‘She did.’ It seemed he would say something more to Trull, but then he changed his mind and faced B’nagga. ‘The Jheck are well, B’nagga?’

A fierce grin. ‘They are, Emperor.’

‘We are pleased. Hannan Mosag would speak to you regarding the impending lie of battle. A tent has been prepared for such matters. Hull Beddict has drawn us detailed maps.’

B’nagga bowed, then walked to the Warlock King. The two departed, trailed by Hull Beddict.

‘Our brothers,’ Rhulad said, the sword shaking in his left hand. ‘Come, we will take food and drink in our own tent. Udinaas, precede us.’

The slave strode into the mass of warriors. The Edur melted back before the nondescript Letherii, and into his wake walked the emperor, Fear and Trull.

They reached the command tent a short while later, after traversing an avenue walled in flesh, waving weapons and frenzied warcries. Wraiths stood guard to either side of the entrance. As soon as the slave and the three brothers entered, Rhulad spun round and halted Trull with one hand. ‘How far do you intend to push me, Trull?’

He looked down at the hand pressed against his chest. ‘It seems you are the one doing the pushing, Rhulad.’

A moment of taut silence, then his brother barked a laugh and stepped back. ‘Words from our past, yes? As we once were, before…’ a wave of the sword, ‘all this.’ His ravaged gaze fixed on Trull for a moment. ‘We have missed you.’ He smiled at Fear. ‘Missed you both. Udinaas, find us some wine!’

‘A Letherii drink,’ Fear said. ‘I have acquired a taste for it, brother.’

Trull and Fear followed Rhulad into the inner chamber, where the slave was already pouring three cups of dark wine into Letherii-made goblets of silver and gold. Trull felt unbalanced, the sudden breach in Rhulad’s facade shocking him, hurting him somewhere inside for reasons he could not immediately fathom.

Eschewing the throne dominating the centre of the room, the emperor settled down in a leather-slung tripod chair near the food-laden table along one wall. Two identical chairs flanked him. Rhulad gestured. ‘Come, brothers, sit with us. We know, we understand well, it seemed all we were was but ashes, and the love we shared, as brothers, was so sadly strained, then.’

Trull could see that even Fear was stunned, as they sat down in the low chairs.

‘We must not run from our memories,’ Rhulad said, as Udinaas brought him his cup. ‘The blood of kin need not always burn, brothers. There must be times when it simply… warms us.’

Fear cleared his throat. ‘We have… missed you as well, Emperor-’

‘Enough! No titles. Rhulad, so our father named me, as he named all his sons, each in turn from the host of ancestors of the Sengar line. It is too easy to forget.’

Udinaas set a cup into Fear’s hand. Fingers closed of their own accord.

Trull glanced up as the slave approached him with the last cup. He met the Letherii’s eyes, was startled by what he saw in them. He reached out and accepted the wine. ‘Thank you, Udinaas.’

A flinch from Rhulad. ‘He is mine,’ he said in a tight voice.

Trull’s eyes widened. ‘Of course, Rhulad.’

‘Good. Yes. Fear, I must tell you of Mayen.’

Slowly leaning back, Trull studied the wine trembling in the cup in his hands. The slave’s gaze, the message it seemed to convey. All is well.

‘I did not,’ Fear ventured hesitantly, ‘see her earlier…’

‘No, nor our mother. Mayen has been unwell.’ Rhulad shot Fear a nervous glance. ‘I am sorry, brother. I should not have… should not have done that. And now, well, you see…’ He drained his wine in a single motion. ‘Udinaas, more. Tell him. Explain, Udinaas, so that Fear understands.’

The slave refilled the cup, then stepped back. ‘She is with child,’ he said, meeting Fear’s gaze. ‘There is no doubt, now, that her heart belongs to you. Rhulad would have wished otherwise. At first, in any case. But not now. He understands. But the child, that has made matters difficult. Complicated.’

The cup in Fear’s hand had not visibly moved, but Trull could see that it was close to spilling, as if a numbness was stealing the strength of the limb. ‘Go on,’ Fear managed.

‘There is no precedent, no rules among your people,’ Udinaas resumed. ‘Rhulad would relinquish his marriage to her, he would undo all that has been done. But for the child, do you see, Fear Sengar?’

‘That child will be heir-’

Rhulad interrupted with a harsh laugh. ‘No heir, Fear. Ever. Don’t you see? The throne shall be my eternal burden.’

Burden. By the Sisters, what has awakened you, Rhulad? Who has awakened you? Trull snapped his gaze back to Udinaas, and mentally reeled in sudden realization. Udinaas? This… this slave?

Udinaas was nodding, eyes still on Fear’s own. ‘The warrior that raises that child will be its father, in all things but the naming. There will be no deception. All will know. If there is to be a stigma…’

‘It will be for me to deal with,’ Fear said. ‘Should I choose to stand beside Mayen, once wife to the emperor, with a child not my own to raise as my wife’s first-born.’

‘It is as you say, Fear Sengar,’ Udinaas said. Then he stepped back. Trull slowly straightened, reached with one hand and gently righted the cup in Fear’s grip. Startled, his brother looked at him, then nodded. ‘Rhulad, what does Mother say to all this?’

‘Mayen has been punishing herself with white nectar. It is not an easy thing to defeat, such… dependency. Uruth endeavours…’ A soft groan from Fear, as he closed his eyes.

Trull watched Rhulad stretch out as if to touch Fear, watched him hesitate, then glance across to Trull. Who nodded. Yes. Now. A momentary contact, that seemed to shoot through Fear, snapping his eyes open.

‘Brother,’ Rhulad said, ‘I am sorry.’

Fear studied his youngest brother’s face, then said, ‘We are all sorry, Rhulad. For… so much. What has Uruth said of the child? Is it well?’

‘Physically, yes, but it knows its mother’s hunger. This will be… difficult. I know, you do not deserve any of this, Fear-’

‘Perhaps, Rhulad, but I will accept the burden. For Mayen. And for you.’

No-one spoke after that, not for some time. They drank their wine, and it seemed to Trull that something was present, some part of his life he’d thought – not long gone, but non-existent in the first place. They sat, the three of them. Brothers, and nothing more.

Night descended outside. Udinaas served food and still more wine. Some time later, Trull rose, the alcohol softening details, and wandered through the chambers of the tent, his departure barely noticed by