His eyes on T’riss, Caplo sighed and said, ‘Ah, Resh, but not all revelation arrives as an assault.’
‘You give me reason to drink.’
‘Then your reason is weak.’
‘And lo, I am the only philosopher brave enough to admit it.’
‘Only because you’re sober, and I always question the courage of sobriety.’
They both fell silent as T’riss rose once again and made her way over. Eyes flicking briefly to Caplo she said, ‘Your Mother advised against my murder, then? It is well. You would not like my blood on your hands, lieutenant.’
Caplo said nothing for a long moment, and then he cocked his head. ‘Guest, you surmise extreme conduct on our part. It is unseemly.’
She nodded. ‘It is.’
‘I am pleased that we agree-’
‘Murder always is,’ she continued. ‘I tasted the distrust in my friend, Faror Hend, upon your intervention. There were many levels to her displeasure.’
‘We mean you no harm,’ said Caplo, ‘but if we must, we will defend our own.’
‘I see much room for debate, lieutenant, as to what constitutes “your own”. Of course, you rely upon that ambiguity.’
‘Does that comment refer to me personally, or people in general?’
Beside Caplo, Resh seemed to flinch.
‘I do not know sufficient “people” to comment on them,’ T’riss replied, sitting down before them and running a hand through the warm water. ‘I believe you are a killer, and that you are both given reasons for the necessity, and assemble in private more of your own, bolstering such justifications as needed.’
Warlock Resh seemed to gag. Coughing, he said, ‘Guest, I beg you, constrain your power.’
‘You think this power is mine, warlock?’ Smiling, she rose. ‘I am weary. I see a monk in the doorway — will he suffice to guide me to my quarters?’
br />
His eyes on T’riss, Caplo sighed and said, ‘Ah, Resh, but not all revelation arrives as an assault.’
‘You give me reason to drink.’
‘Then your reason is weak.’
‘And lo, I am the only philosopher brave enough to admit it.’
‘Only because you’re sober, and I always question the courage of sobriety.’
They both fell silent as T’riss rose once again and made her way over. Eyes flicking briefly to Caplo she said, ‘Your Mother advised against my murder, then? It is well. You would not like my blood on your hands, lieutenant.’
Caplo said nothing for a long moment, and then he cocked his head. ‘Guest, you surmise extreme conduct on our part. It is unseemly.’
She nodded. ‘It is.’
‘I am pleased that we agree-’
‘Murder always is,’ she continued. ‘I tasted the distrust in my friend, Faror Hend, upon your intervention. There were many levels to her displeasure.’
‘We mean you no harm,’ said Caplo, ‘but if we must, we will defend our own.’
‘I see much room for debate, lieutenant, as to what constitutes “your own”. Of course, you rely upon that ambiguity.’
‘Does that comment refer to me personally, or people in general?’
Beside Caplo, Resh seemed to flinch.
‘I do not know sufficient “people” to comment on them,’ T’riss replied, sitting down before them and running a hand through the warm water. ‘I believe you are a killer, and that you are both given reasons for the necessity, and assemble in private more of your own, bolstering such justifications as needed.’
Warlock Resh seemed to gag. Coughing, he said, ‘Guest, I beg you, constrain your power.’
‘You think this power is mine, warlock?’ Smiling, she rose. ‘I am weary. I see a monk in the doorway — will he suffice to guide me to my quarters?’
‘A moment, please,’ Caplo interposed, alarmed after a glance at his companion, who was gasping, half bent over. ‘If not your power, then whose?’
‘Your river god was dead. It is dead no longer.’
He stared in disbelief.
She met his eyes and this time held them. ‘Now you must contend with what you purport to worship, and give answer to the many things you have done in its name. Is it any wonder your friend quails?’
She set off across the compound.
Caplo stepped close to his friend. ‘Resh? Will you recover? Does she speak truth? What is it you feel?’
He looked up with savage eyes. ‘Rage.’
Thereafter, in the midst of panic and chaos tearing through the settlement, the Azathanai guest remained in her rooms, taking her meals in private. Upon the third morning she appeared in the compound. Summoning her grass horse, she mounted up and waited for the others.
Mother Sheccanto was confined to her bed. She had lost all control over her body and could not move, not even to lift a hand. Her lungs were filling with fluid, her breaths came in shallow rasps and her eyes, Caplo recalled, darted like trapped birds.
The hawk betrays the hare. The swift betrays the fly. God was bent to our will; and God now rages.
Riders had already gone out to Yedan Monastery, by Resh’s command, and word had come back the night before their departure for Kharkanas. Father Skelenal was on his way. Sisters had collapsed. The thirteen eldest among them had died. And in the Great Well of the Ancient God, the water boiled. The steam made a column that could be seen from the forest edge south of the convent.
When Warlock Resh announced that he would remain, awaiting the arrival of Skelenal, T’riss had turned to him and said, ‘You will not be needed here. Your Mother will recover most of her faculties. She will speak in private with her lifebound mate. You will accompany me, Warlock Resh.’
‘Why?’ he had demanded, and it had shocked Caplo to realize that his companion had not even questioned the Azathanai’s right to command him.
‘Who dwells in the forest north of Kharkanas?’ she asked him.
Resh shrugged. ‘Cast-offs, half-wild folk. Poachers, criminals-’
‘Deniers,’ Caplo said.
T’riss said, ‘Your Mother and Father need to prepare.’
‘For what?’ Caplo asked.
‘For what I must show Warlock Resh, lieutenant. It shall begin in the forest, but also upon the river itself, and in the streets of Kharkanas — until such time as Mother Dark awakens to the challenge.’
‘What will you say to her?’ Resh demanded in a harsh voice.