Fall of Light (62 page)

‘Your energy did not change in my presence,’ Sheltatha replied. ‘That means you want nothing from me, and mean me no harm. You’re just curious. And,’ she added, ‘my magic didn’t change anything in you. No fear, no wonder, no envy. The secret you hold, Renarr, has nothing to do with me, but it’s the strongest thing I’ve ever seen.’

‘Come, then, and I will show you your room.’

Nodding, Sheltatha followed Renarr.

‘The strongest thing I’ve ever seen.’ Beneath it, the colour of slate.

The High Priestess had been too quick in her dismissal of this girl, and that was fortunate, as far as Renarr was concerned.
Secrets are what they are. Is it fear that makes one keep them? Not always. No, for me, there is no fear. For me, there is only patience.

The sky at dusk. Waiting for the night to come.

TWELVE

‘Y
OU FEAR DESIRE,’ SAID LASA ROOK, HER EYES LURID IN THE
fire’s light. ‘Hanako of the Scars, I fold back my furs for you, that we may partake in senseless rutting, followed by tender cuddles. Which one pays for the other, I wonder? No matter, choose one as the oyster and the other as the shell, and should I paint in gold its opposite, well, such are the risks of love.’

Hanako pulled his gaze from hers with an effort and glared into the flames. ‘Is this your flimsy veil of grief, Lasa Rook, so quickly flung away at the first heat?’

‘My husbands are no more! What am I to do?’ She swept her hair back with both hands, a gesture that thrust out her chest and, as Hanako mused on the curse of anatomy, the breasts upon it. ‘A vast emptiness has devoured my soul, dear boy, and it is in need of filling.’

‘More husbands?’

‘No! I am done with that! Do you not see me running light as a butterfly through the meadows of my liberated mind? Look well into my eyes, Hanako, slayer of the Lord of Temper. In these pools awaits all manner of lascivious curiosity, forward and back, sideways and upside down. You need only find the courage to look.’

But that he would not do. Instead, he twisted slightly upon the fallen tree trunk where he sat, and frowned at the wrapped form of Erelan Kreed. The warrior was muttering in his sleep, an endless litany of strange names, punctuated by vile hissing and bone-chilling curses. The madness had not abated, and it had been three days now. Even the mosquitoes and biting flies avoided him.

The valley and the dread lake where Kreed had slain the dragon was far behind them, and yet it seemed that the world was reluctant to yield the pattern, as they now sat beside yet another lake, at the base of yet another thickly forested valley. For two days Hanako had carried the warrior, his armour and his weapons, and on both nights, with dusk’s sudden arrival, he had sunk down to the ground on trembling legs, too weary to even eat.

Lasa Rook had taken to cooking their meals, although Hanako was the one to force food into the mouth of Erelan Kreed, fighting the warrior’s delirium and wild, batting hands, his fierce eyes and teeth bared like fangs.

In consideration of that, Hanako wondered, tenuously, if Erelan was perhaps saner than he appeared.
Lasa Rook cooks food to make even the dead fast. I must warn this Jaghut lord. Lead her to no kitchen beneath the rock-piles, lest you unleash the undead in frenzy and madness, spill them fleeing into the mortal realms!

‘Oh, bless me, Hanako,’ Lasa sighed, ‘do reach out a pawing hand at the very least? Here, I yield you these lobes, my oft-plucked fruit, so well handled and tender, whose very nipples cry out with the memory of tweaks and twists. They have the taste of honey, I’m told, and the scent of flowers.’

‘I’ve seen you dab them every morning,’ Hanako said.

‘A secret revealed! And yet you still speak of marriage? Hanako, this journey of ours is almost as bad, with all the shattered privacy of making toilet and other things. Imagine this intimacy, young sir, with no end in sight! Shall I pluck importunate hairs from alarming locales upon your person, while you squeeze blackheads upon mine? Shall we take turns wiping the drool from our chins with every dawn, for years on end? Tell me, what other details of marriage can I offer you, to disavow all your notions of romantic bliss?’

‘Please, Lasa. My thoughts are for Erelan Kreed. He does not improve. There was madness in that dragon’s blood.’

‘It’s said that there are celibate monks among the south-dwellers. Pray rush to their cold company, Hanako.’

‘Lasa Rook, I beg you, we must discuss what to do with our friend here!’

‘We bring him down to the Jaghut, of course. And whatever Azathanai might be lounging about. They can examine our blathering warrior here, and decide if he is fit to live or die. This matter, you must see, Hanako, lies beyond us. Now, where was I? Ah, these protrudinous fruit, so swollen and inviting—’

With a low growl, Hanako rose to his feet. He stepped away from the fire, moving past Lasa, and made his way down to the pebbled shoreline.

The stars were strewn upon the still surface of the lake. Cool air rose from the water, lifting to Hanako the faintly pungent smell of decay where detritus made a cluttered rim of the shoreline. He walked along that verge, his steps slow. Rock and water … the world had a way of making borderlands the repository of the discarded, as if in the collision of smaller worlds things did not merge, only break.

The Thel Akai, such lovers of tales from distant lands, were nonetheless a people content with their own isolation. There were things to protect, after all, and pre-eminent among them a host of precious but flimsy beliefs. There was little defence, however, against the invasion of ideas, beyond whatever strength was offered by collective prejudices. And even among an isolated people such as the Thel Akai, factions arose, jostling for dominance, always eager to impose distinctions.

The only weapon of any worth against such idiocy was laughter, and it cut sharper and deeper than any blade.

A war upon death. That was worth a bold guffaw.
Now watch us laugh all the way to the feet of the Lord of Rock-Piles himself. Some ideas will turn the blade, wounding the wielder with unexpected suddenness.

He turned at the sound of splashing from the lake, caught the glimmer of churning water as a figure clambered into view. Hanako saw a flash of tusks, and then heard muttered cursing as the stranger struggled with a bulky, sodden pack. He dragged it ashore, and then straightened, turning to face Hanako. ‘Is this the crude self-obsession of youth, Thel Akai, or has mercy simply died along with everything else?’

Hanako stepped forward, in time for the Jaghut to thrust the heavy sack into his hands.

‘It’s time to give thanks to that fire of yours,’ the Jaghut said, stepping past. ‘A beacon, a promising pyre, a rack to dry flesh and bone. It was all these things, and more.’

Hanako grunted under the weight of the sack, which was still draining water. He hurried to catch up to the Jaghut. ‘But – where did you come from?’

‘A boat, Thel Akai. By this means, one can journey across lakes. Unless,’ he added, ‘the boat changes its mind, and longs instead to explore the bottom.’

As they drew nearer the fire, Lasa Rook’s voice drifted out to them. ‘Another wastrel, Hanako? But not the grunts and growls of a bear, nor the hiss of a dragon. Why, this venture offers everything but the sweaty squeeze beneath the furs. Tell me, oh please, the tale of a shipwrecked prince flung so callously upon my lap, as it were …’

She was standing, awaiting them, and her words trailed away when the Jaghut stepped into the light, already stripping off his soaked clothing.

‘Unless you’re in the habit of devouring small children with your sweet trap, woman, best look back upon your companion, if satisfaction is what you seek.’

Lasa Rook snorted, and then moved to sit once more. ‘Wastrels indeed. Do charge these flames, Hanako, and with luck, such heat will dry our guest to a frail wisp, lifting him high into the night and gone.’

Now naked, the Jaghut moved closer to the hearth and began laying out his clothes. ‘Thel Akai,’ he said, making the words sound like a mild irritation, ‘you’ve been tumbling down out of the mountains for weeks now. All through the nights, as I communed with the walls of my cave, and paced the rough floor in search of quietude, I have been subjected to echoing braying I assumed to be laughter.’ Finished with his clothing, he moved closer to the flames and held out his hands to the heat. ‘But let it not be said that a Jaghut worth his salt would call but one cave his refuge. I set out, then, seeking a more remote cache.’

‘His boat sank,’ Hanako explained.

Lasa Rook lifted a bright gaze to him. ‘At last, brevity! Heed well this deplorable youth, Jaghut, and consider – in your own time, to be sure – the value of being succinct. After all, we do not all live for ages untold, inviting such preambles as to witness the greying of hair and bending of bones.’

After a moment, the Jaghut rose and retrieved the pack that Hanako had dragged into the firelight. He pulled free the straps and drew out a bundled chain surcoat, followed by a helm, a belt and twin scabbarded shortswords.

Hanako stared. ‘You swam carrying all that? I think even I could not manage such a thing, sir.’

‘When swimming fails, one walks.’

‘Listen to him, Hanako. Before this night is done, he will tell you of the stars he gathered from the sky.’ She rose. ‘I’m for sleep, yielding to you snores rather than moans. But do lean an ear to this pallid Jaghut, and partake in his dirge of exhausted wisdom. No finer music could more quickly put me to sleep.’

Hanako moved to check on Erelan Kreed, but the warrior remained unconscious, his brow hot with fever. Troubled, Hanako returned to sit opposite the Jaghut.

‘What ails your friend?’

‘He slew a dragon, and then drank its blood.’

The Jaghut grunted. ‘I expect he eats his own lice, too.’

‘I am named Hanako.’

‘I know.’

Hanako waited, and then shrugged before dragging close a branch torn from a tree they had pulled up from the high-water line. He flung it on to the fire. Sparks scattered and then died.

‘Names,’ said the Jaghut, ‘become their own curses. They are seared upon your soul, destined to follow your every deed. Such flimsy frames to bear inordinate burdens. It is my thought that we should all dispense with our old names, perhaps once every ten or so years. Imagine the wonder of beginning anew, Hanako, cleansed of all history.’

‘I would see a world, sir, where every crime was escaped.’

‘Hmm, you have a point there, but I wonder, what is it, precisely?’

‘With our names comes responsibility, for all that we have done, and all that we promise to do. But also, sir, how would we keep track of our companions? Our friends? Family?’

‘Yes, but your point?’

Hanako frowned. ‘You are Jaghut. You are unlike the rest of us. It is the very continuity that we yearn for, which you would reject. Well, which you
have
rejected.’

For a time neither spoke, and the only sound beyond the crackling flames was the drone of Lasa Rook’s snoring.

Then the Jaghut said, ‘Hanako, I am named Raest.’

‘Then welcome, Raest, to our fire.’

‘Voice a single jibe, Hanako, and I might have to chop off your head. Just so you understand how this night will play.’

‘I am too worried for Erelan Kreed, to be honest.’

‘He will live. Or die.’

‘Ah. Thank you.’

‘If he lives, he will not be the man you once knew. If you trusted this Erelan Kreed, trust him no longer. If you thought you knew him, you know him no more. And, should he instead die, why, honour who he once was. Raise a decent cairn and sing his praises.’

Hanako stared into the flames. ‘We journey, Raest,’ he said, ‘in answer to the call of one of your kin.’

‘Hood. Now that is a name worthy of being a curse.’

‘You will not answer his need?’

‘Of course not.’

‘You say that other Thel Akai have passed through this valley, and past your cave. It seems, then, that there will be many more in Hood’s army than I had first imagined.’

‘Thel Akai, who like a good joke,’ Raest said, nodding. ‘Dog-Runners, who have made sorrow a goddess of endless tears. Ilnap, who flee a usurper among their island kingdom. Forulkan, seeking the final arbiter. Jheck and Jhelarkan, ever eager for blood, even should it ooze from carrion. Petty tyrants from across the ocean, fleeing the High King’s incorruptible justice. Tiste, Azathanai, Halacahi, Thelomen—’

‘Thelomen!’

‘Word travels swift and far, Hanako, when even the waves carry the tale.’

‘Then,’ whispered Hanako, ‘this shall be a most formidable army.’

‘I would almost yield my isolation to see Hood’s ugly face, once he realizes the true tragedy that is the answer to his ill-considered summons.’

‘I should have realized,’ Hanako said. ‘Grief will make a vast legion. How could it not?’

‘It is not the grief, young Thel Akai, but the questions for which there are no answers. Against such silence, frustration and fury will see every sword drawn. Hood longs to face an enemy, and will, I fear, refashion death into a god. A being worthy of cursing, a face to be carved from senseless stone, offering up a blank, stony gaze, a grimace of granite.’ Raest snorted. ‘I see dolmens in the offing, and sacred wells from which the stench of rotting meat rises, to greet dancing flies. There will be sacrifices made, in the delusion of fair bargain.’