She sees it then. Although the shells are all youthful and athletic his evident wounding still marks them, colours their eyes with pain, weariness . . . and fear. “You’re certain you know where to find him?” she asks.
“He seeks the endless man. I need only journey north and I’ll find his trail. You’ll have to make me a general, and some sort of grandiose title seems appropriate. Overlord of the North, or something.”
“The Northern Armies are commanded by the General Governor of Latethia. I’ll give you an execution order. When he’s dead call yourself what you like.”
“You don’t seem to like these governors much, I must say. Does this leave any alive?”
“Only the Governor of Eskethia. I was going to execute him too but I’m becoming more inclined to leave him to his fate.”
The faces shift again, all vestige of humour fading and she knows his next words are not his. “You cannot afford indulgence now. This distraction of yours had its uses, but now obstructs our purpose. He requires that you see to the matter without delay.”
“The Council is dead and the bitch’s fleet wrecked. All at my hand. I have earned indulgence.”
“The previous three centuries have been your indulgence. Decades of murder and malice, his gift to you. And now he requires payment.”
Her hand flexes on the sword, the true depth of the antipathy she has always felt for this creature becoming apparent for the first time. She sees them tense, the seated speaker rising. “He knows what you planned,” he says. “Your cherished scheme, the dream of ruling with that boy at your side, eternal and terrible with the whole world as your playground. Did you really think it would work?”
“If he has no more use for me,” she says, smiling, “kill me. If you can.”
As one their hands reach for the swords at their side. She knows the odds are hopeless, she knows she is choosing death. Watch me, my love, she thinks, knowing he sees her. Watch me make you proud.
But the Messenger stops, all seven releasing their swords and filing towards the door in silence. The speaker lingers a moment, his face now that of a weary soldier called to inescapable duty. “He will always find more use for us. You can keep the boy, if you take him alive. But the matter must be settled.”
