Kiral inclined her head with a smile, her humour fading as she looked at Vaelin. “My song indicated you would have killed him.”
“Your song was right.” Vaelin turned away and started towards Scar. “We ride within the hour. Astorek, please convey my thanks to your people and assure them of the continued friendship of the Unified Realm. I’ve little doubt my queen will send ambassadors to formalise our alliance in due course.”
“From what Wise Bear tells me,” Astorek called after him, “if your mission fails, our victory here will prove no more than a respite from greater dangers.”
Vaelin paused, turning to offer the shaman an impatient nod. “Hence my keenness to depart.”
Astorek glanced first at Kiral, then at the burgeoning dust cloud beyond the ridge where his people were breaking camp. “Then I will go with you. I . . . feel the wolf would want me to.”
Vaelin felt the faintest flutter of humour as he saw Kiral carefully avoid his gaze.
“You will be welcome,” he told him, resuming his stride. “Please be brief in your farewells.”
• • •
The journey through the mountains was rich in grim sights testifying to the destruction wrought by the Witch’s Bastard. Murdered tribespeople littered the heather, burnt settlements became a common sight as did the bodies of Volarian soldiers lashed to wooden frames, the flesh of their backs flogged down to the spine. From the frequency of such sights it was clear the red men had led a reluctant army, displaying little imagination in maintaining discipline.
“Even Tokrev wasn’t so cruel,” Astorek said as they neared a row of a dozen flogged men, a cloud of crows rising from the frames as they approached.
“I found his cruelty more than sufficient,” Vaelin replied. He spied a settlement ahead, charred and mostly ruined but still possessing some intact roofs. “We’ll shelter there tonight. Lord Orven, scout the hills in a five-mile radius. Victory or no, this remains enemy territory.”
Erlin came to his fire when the night had grown fully dark. Vaelin had sat apart from the others since the march began. The Sentar were rich in new stories and, though he barely understood a word, their evident relish in recounting the battle roused him to unwise anger.
“Astorek and Kiral are missing,” Erlin said, sinking down opposite him, hands spread to the warmth. “Haven’t seen either since nightfall.”
Vaelin glanced at the blackness beyond the part-tumbled walls of the dwelling he had chosen, a place he would have shared with Dahrena, as Kiral and Astorek now shared another. “I suspect they’re safe enough.”
“She told me of a compound she carries,” Erlin said, face tense as he stared into the fire. “Some ancient Lonak concoction that can instill pain, enough to bring a man to the point of death if used in sufficient quantity, or purge him of an unwanted soul.”
Vaelin nodded. Lyrna and Frentis had left him in no doubt of the power contained in the Mahlessa’s compound, though he had yet to see it for himself.
“The Ally had a gift,” Erlin went on. “The nature of which we do not understand, but it was powerful enough to bring down an entire civilisation. A gift he may well bring with him should he be drawn back from the Beyond.”
“I know,” Vaelin said. “But we have come to a point where I believe we have little option but to trust the words of the seer. You will touch the black stone in Volar, but it will not be you.”
“How do we know it will end this? How do we know it won’t simply make him stronger? You saw him in the memory stone, he wanted to touch it.”
“But he also feared it, enough to have it secreted away for centuries.”
Erlin’s hands trembled as he held them to the fire, Vaelin frowning at the grin that played over his lips. “I’m afraid, brother. All these years, so much seen and heard and tasted. And yet I still want more. My nameless wife was often heard to call me selfish, usually before she threw something.”
“You have saved many,” Vaelin reminded him. “Two of them children who grew into the brave people who ride with us now.”
“Just more selfishness, I’m afraid. If I saved enough, I imagined they would eventually fight the war for me, bring down the Ally, and spare me the trials of battle.” He gave Vaelin a sidelong glance. “What would your queen do, if she were presented with this particular dilemma?”
“She would act for the good of the Realm.”
Erlin grunted a laugh. “You mean she would have had me tied in a trice and force-fed the Mahlessa’s compound until the Ally was safely caged in my flesh. Should you prevail in this struggle, don’t you worry what she might become? I’ve seen many a monarch, brother, but none like her.”
“She is not the Ally. Nor will she ever be.”
