The rotted leathers and linen of her clothing had been replaced with black silks beneath a short black calf-hide jacket. A new weapons belt, tanned leggings and high boots. Tight leather gloves. ‘I look like a whore.’
‘Not any old whore, though, right?’ Selush said.
‘True, I’ll take your coin then kill you. That’s how I look.’
‘There are plenty of men out there who’ll go for that, you know.’
‘Getting killed?’
‘Absolutely. In any case, I was led to believe that wasn’t your profession. Although I suppose you might feel inclined to try something new – how does the ootooloo feel, by the way?’
‘Hungry. Can’t I feed it, uh, something else?’
Selush’s eyes sparkled. ‘Experimentation, that’s the spirit!’
Some comments, the undead woman reflected, deserved no response.
Shurq Elalle flexed the muscles that would permit her to draw breath – they were long out of practice, and it was strange to feel the still vague and remote sense of air sliding down her throat and filling her chest. After the pump, there had been infusions. The breath she released smelled of cinnamon and myrrh. Better than river mud any day.
‘Your work is acceptable,’ she said.
‘Well, that’s a relief! It’s nearly dawn, and I’m starving. Shall we test you out, dear? I imagine my assistant and Tehol are at the local establishment, breaking their fast. Let us join them.’
‘I thought I wasn’t supposed to eat or drink.’
‘No, but you can preen and flirt, can’t you?’
Shurq stared at the woman.
Selush smiled. Then her eyelids fluttered and she turned away. ‘Where’s my shawl?’
Kuru Qan had left and returned with two assistants who carried Brys back to the Ceda’s chambers, where he was laid down on a bench and plied with various liquids and food. Even so, strength was slow to return and he was still lying supine, head propped up on a cushion, when the doors opened and First Eunuch Nifadas entered.
His small eyes glittered as he looked down on Brys. ‘King’s Champion, are you well enough to meet your king? He will be here in a moment.’
Brys struggled to sit straighter. ‘This is unfortunate. I am, for the moment, unequal to my responsibilities-’
‘Never mind that, Finadd. Your king seeks only to ensure you will recover from your ordeal. Genuine concern motivates Ezgara Diskanar in this instance. Please, remain where you are. I have never seen you so pale.’
‘Something has fed on his blood,’ Kuru Qan said, ‘but he will not tell me what it was.’
Nifadas pursed his lips as he regarded Brys. ‘I cannot imagine that a god would do such a thing.’
‘Mael was not there, First Eunuch,’ Brys said. ‘The Tiste Edur found something else, and have bound it to their service.’
‘Can you tell us what this thing is?’
‘A forgotten god, but that is the extent of my knowledge. I do not know its nature, nor the full breadth of its power. It is old, older than the ocean itself. Whatever worshipped it was not human.’
A voice spoke from the doorway, ‘I am ever careless with my assets, although the Errant has spared me the cruellest consequence thus far, for which I am thankful.’
Kuru Qan and Nifadas both bowed low as Ezgara Diskanar entered the chamber. In his sixth decade, the king’s features remained surprisingly youthful. He was of average height, slightly on the lean side, his gestures revealing a nervous energy that seemed tireless. The bones beneath his features were prominent and somewhat asymmetrical, the result of a childhood incident with a bad-tempered horse. Right cheekbone and orbital arch sat flatter and higher than their counterparts on the left side of the king’s face, making the eye on that side seem larger and rounder. It was a poorly functioning eye and had a tendency to wander independently when Ezgara was irritated or weary. Healers could have corrected the damage, but the king forbade it – even as a child, he had been obstinate and wilful, and not in the least concerned with outward appearance.
Further proof of that observation was evinced in his modest attire, more befitting a citizen in the markets than a king.
Brys managed a slight bow from his reclined position. ‘My apologies, your highness-’
‘None needed, Finadd,’ Ezgara Diskanar cut in, waving a hand. ‘Indeed, it is I who must apologize to you. Unpleasant tasks that take you from your official functions. I have sorely abused your loyalty, my young Champion. And you have suffered for it.’