Forge of Darkness

‘Besides,’ Sharenas added, ‘would you come this far only to deny yourself sight of the Vitr? Do you not wish to understand the purpose of Faror Hend’s duty in this land? Should you not see for yourself her avowed enemy? I will do no less, if only to honour her memory.’



He flinched at that last statement, but voiced no protest.



Tulas had tasted death’s kiss before. He could shoulder any new loss. She saw him find his resolve, like a man throwing on a cape of thorns, and saw too the hint of satisfaction, if not pleasure, in its bite. ‘Truly spoken, Sharenas Ankhadu. I am pleased that you are here.’ His lifeless gaze moved on to Bered and the other Wardens. ‘You as well. I see the strain in each of you: that you might have lost a friend. It is clear that my betrothed has found a worthy world in which to live. In all that you have already done, you do her honour.’



Bered’s reply was gruff. ‘And we expect to jest without repent in her company, Lord, in a few days.’



Tulas drew his horse to one side. ‘Will you take the lead now, captain, and read this faint trail?’



‘Thank you, Lord.’



Sharenas and Tulas waited for the others to set out, and then fell in side by side into their wake.



‘You must think me a fool,’ he muttered.



‘In matters of love-’



‘Spare all of that, Sharenas. You read well my fragile verve. This betrothal is my reward, and Faror Hend’s penance. Love does not rush between us. But I will give ease to her as best I can. My expectations are few and all chains I will cast away long before we join hands. She is welcome to take what lovers please her, and indeed to live out her days among the ranks of the Wardens. I begrudge her no decision.’



‘Yet you would give your life in her defence.’



He shot her a look. ‘Of course. She is my betrothed.’



‘Dear me,’ she replied, low, ‘you really are a fool, Tulas.’



‘What do you mean?’



‘Rest your umbrage and I will speak honestly. No, I will wait for the heat to drain from your face. Listen well. This is not a question of dying for your betrothed. It is one of living instead. You should have refused the offer, knowing what you know — of yourself, of a young woman’s dreams. This was, as you say, your reward, and as such was intended as a gift to match gratitude. In turn, House Durav was badly mauled in the wars, almost unto dissolution — and for those losses, another gift was offered. Accordingly, Faror Hend had no choice. She had to accept in the name of her family — she had to accept any husband of nobility offered her. And in turn, she is expected to produce heirs.’ She studied him carefully, and then continued, ‘It may be that you are gone. That all that remains of you is flesh and bone. But that will serve. Do you understand my meaning?’



‘Why did you choose to accompany us? On this search?’



She grimaced. ‘I admit to cruel curiosity. But there is so little left of you, Tulas, that the game palls in the deed. I was as much the fool here as you, I fear. So, let us smooth the sands between us and begin anew, if you will have that.’



His nod was understandably cautious.



She went on. ‘If friends have left you, then I will be your companion. If companionship stings too much, then nod to my occasional smile, the meeting of my gaze. With me you can speak, on any matter, and I in turn avow myself a secure repository of your secrets.’



‘And what of your secrets, Sharenas Ankhadu?’



‘Alas, mostly venal, I admit. But if you enquire, you shall have them in abundance.’



To her astonishment, the weathered face creased in a smile. ‘It is said that among the three, you are the cleverest.’



She snorted. ‘Among the three that’s hardly a triumph of wit.’



‘Will you side with Urusander?’



‘You waste little time, Tulas.’



Tulas made a strange sound, and then said, ‘Time? In abundance it is no more than preparation. In short supply it is every necessary deed. We are hoarders of time’s wealth, yet worshippers of its waste.’



‘You have spent years now, preparing to die, Tulas. A waste? Most assuredly.’



‘I’ll bear the cut of your tongue and wipe away what blood may flow.’



She looked ahead through the grainy gloom. Another day was past and the time of failing light was upon them. ‘Calat Hustain was a wall, against which Hunn Raal flung arguments. Stone after stone, shattering, raining down. His words were futile as dust. It was glorious.’



‘Ilgast Rend was a bear among wolves, yet the wolves saw it not.’