Now Gripp too was looking at Hish, as if in wonder.
Kellaras cleared his throat. ‘Milady, it seems your confidence in Lord Draconus arises from deeds of which I am not aware. Certainly, he fought well in the wars, and even turned a battle’s tide—’
‘Lisken Draw, that was,’ Gripp cut in. ‘The Jhelarkan’s second season. With my own eyes, I saw him meet the charge of a wolf that was as big as a pony. Bare-handed, he took hold of its neck, lifted it high – I was close enough to hear the bones of the beast’s throat crunch, like a sparrow’s wing. It was dead long before he drove it into the ground.’ He glanced up at Kellaras. ‘A clan’s war-master, that wolf. Broke the enemy’s will there and then. The rest of the season was one long pursuit into the north.’
None spoke for a time. Kellaras replayed in his mind the scene Gripp Galas had just described. He barely fought off a shiver. And then, once again, he looked across to Hish Tulla. ‘Few would welcome Lord Draconus as commander, milady. Indeed, I cannot think of a single highborn who would acknowledge his authority.’
‘I would,’ she snapped. ‘And not hesitate.’
‘Then you see beyond his advantage, milady, which the others cannot.’
‘Base envy – such fools! The choice was Mother Dark’s! Think any of them the better suitor? Then by all means present the case to her, and dare her mockery. But no, this desire of theirs paces behind the curtain – we but witness the shuffling feet and bulges in the fabric.’
‘What they cannot hope to possess, milady, makes all the more savage their jealousy. Resentment is an acid upon every blade, but as you say, they dare not confront the woman for the choice she made. So who remains for their ire? Why, Draconus, of course. And now, with the battle against the Borderswords—’
‘Oh indeed,’ Hish snarled, ‘such a paltry deceit!’
‘Some remain unconvinced.’
‘So they choose to, feeding an already fatted pig.’ She then waved a hand, as if to push away the subject, and collected her goblet again. ‘We were host to Captain Sharenas, a week or so ago. The word she brought to us from Neret Sorr, and Vatha Urusander, made no sense. He asserts his innocence in all things – the pogrom, the slaughter of House Enes, even the annihilation of the Wardens – none by his doing!’
Kellaras sighed. ‘This baffles me, milady. It is difficult to imagine Hunn Raal given so free a rein. Vatha Urusander—’
‘Is a broken and bowed man, captain. There is no other explanation. Even Sharenas was at a loss to explain … well, much of anything. Still, she sought assurances, none of which I would give.’
Kellaras glanced away. ‘This holding of yours, milady, proves not as isolated as I had imagined.’
‘You are not alone in that,’ she answered bitterly. ‘Still, I have issued an order to my western estate. That fortress is to hold, if only to protect young Sukul Ankhadu. I have faith in Rancept and will keep him where he is. Still, tell me, how fares young Orfantal?’
‘He remains a child finding his place, milady. It is unfortunate that Silchas is now his lone guardian among the Purake. Still, I have from Orfantal this message: he misses you terribly.’
There was a soft grunt from Gripp. ‘He saw too much of me upon that escape from the hills. It was a foul thing that he witnessed the blood on my hands. I expect him to hold me at a distance from now on, and perhaps that is just as well.’
‘His words and sentiment, Gripp, were for you and Lady Hish Tulla both.’
‘A fair effort, captain, but beware that your generosity here may risk impugning him.’
Kellaras fell silent. He well recalled the flash of fear in Orfantal’s face upon mention of Gripp Galas.
‘Abyss take us, Pelk,’ said Gripp in a low growl, ‘do find a cup and join us, will you?’
‘Only because I am done,’ the veteran replied, coming forward to drag out the chair beside Kellaras’s own. Sitting down, she accepted from Hish a goblet.
‘Tell us your thoughts, Pelk,’ Hish said.
‘Not much worth the telling, milady. Vatha fights clouds of confusion, and half of them have been stirred up by those surrounding him. On the field, you’ll recall, he ever demanded the high ground, to give him a clear sight of things. Mayhap,’ she added, ‘he imagined that his keep over Neret Sorr would give him the same. Of course, it couldn’t, not when the battlefield is all of Kurald Galain.’ She drank, and then shrugged. ‘Anyway, it’s Silchas who’s the problem, and that’s why Kellaras is here, I’d wager.’ And she turned to him. ‘Time, I’d say, to spit it out, captain.’
‘I suppose it is,’ he replied. ‘Very well. Lest the tone here harden in casting Silchas Ruin in the poorest light, he well recognizes his … extremity. More, he alone remains of the brothers, and so must weather the fear, the currents of accusation, and the general sense of malaise that now fills not just the Citadel, but all of Kharkanas. Much of the anger rightly belongs not upon Silchas, but upon Anomander.’
Gripp hissed and thumped the table, rattling what remained of cutlery. ‘Would he be anywhere but in the Citadel, if not for Andarist?’
‘You judge too harshly a grieving man, husband,’ said Hish.
‘There are many flavours to grief,’ he replied.
Pelk said, ‘Do go on, Captain Kellaras.’
Though he had known her but one day, he already comprehended her relentless streak. ‘Silchas pleads for Anomander’s return. He seeks only to step to one side. Accordingly, he asks that his brother be found, and returned to Kharkanas. He understands, of course, that such a task will be difficult, for Anomander is not a man easily swayed. He may well need convincing.’