Faror Hend felt like weeping, for what she knew not. There was no lack of reasons; rather, there was a vicious crowd of them, so many before her she was unable to choose among them. Betrothed. Kagamandra Tulas, hear my confession. I cannot love a hero, cannot love an honourable man, cannot give myself to him as one should. I have nothing to match your worth, and should I try, I will die. It may take centuries before my flesh catches up, but it will, eventually. The soul is weak. It can wilt to a chilled breath. But the husk abides, with few hints to the hollowness it hides.
‘We should gather the Legion,’ said Prazek, rising to join Dathenar. ‘Midnight draws near, I should think. We must march to our train, to the wagons.’
‘Prazek,’ said Dathenar, turning to face his friend. ‘We abandoned the bridge. A step taken, one to either side, and into the benighted waters we did plunge.’
‘It’s said none ever rise again from the Dorssan Ryl.’
‘I feel the same, friend.’
Faror Hend looked to the south, and saw there a small group of riders. They were still distant, but the man in the lead looked tall, sitting straight in the saddle, with a mane of grey hair.
Of course. ‘I will leave you to it, then,’ she said to Prazek and Dathenar.
‘Faror Hend?’
‘You spoke of a bleak future. I go to meet mine.’
* * *
Unaccompanied, Lord Anomander, First Son of Darkness, sat on his horse, gaze fixed on the valley below. He merely tilted his head for an instant in Kellaras’s direction as the captain rode up to halt beside him.
‘Milord, your brother has set out for Kharkanas. He is walking. We should be able to catch him.’
Anomander seemed momentarily confused. ‘Kharkanas?’
‘Milord, there will be a wedding. The details of peace.’
‘The details of peace,’ Anomander repeated. ‘But Kellaras, there is no peace within me.’
Kellaras said nothing.
Then his lord continued, ‘No, leave them to it. I will ride to my brother, to Andarist. I will yield vengeance.’ He turned then, giving Kellaras his full attention. ‘Her name is Pelk, yes? Perhaps, will she be returning there as well?’
‘I do not know, milord. It is possible. Do you wish me to accompany you?’
Anomander smiled. ‘I would welcome your company, Kellaras.’
Nodding, the captain collected the reins. ‘Now, milord?’
‘Yes. Now.’
Side by side, they set out, into the north.
* * *
Wreneck took little notice of the two riders who came down into the valley from the northeast. Instead, he continued walking among the corpses of the fallen Legion soldiers. The ground under them was torn and savaged, as if it had been chewed. He used his spear as if it was a staff in order to keep his balance as he stepped over bodies, crouching down every now and then to study lifeless faces.
Pain and death made them hard to recognize, and even the memories to which he clung were now blurred in his mind’s eye.
He was cold, and the night was strangely grey, as if trapped inside a cloud of ash that refused to settle. The dying horses had finally gone quiet. Crows came down like night’s tattered flags, and they too had nothing to complain about, yielding a silence to the field that seemed almost suffocating.
One frozen visage drew his attention and he made his way over to stand above it, looking down. Is this one of them? He might be. I have seen him before. Yes, this is one of them. Someone got to him first. But it doesn’t matter who got here first. It only matters who comes last.
I said I would avenge Jinia, and now here I am.
He brought the spear around and tilted the iron point down, edging it forward until it rested on the breast of the dead man.
I will stab deep. That’s all I need to do. His ghost is here. Close. I can’t see them any more, but I know they’re here. They have nowhere else to go.