‘Immediately.’
‘Sir, given the nature of my message to Mother Sheccanto, is it wise for you to relinquish your command here, even for a short time?’
‘I will know the truth of the new threat posed by the Vitr,’ he replied. ‘I will see for myself what remains of this dragon.’
She heard the faint scepticism in his tone and glanced away. ‘Sir, for what it is worth, I do not doubt a word of Sergeant Bered’s report.’
‘And the Azathanai?’
‘A sword and a woman’s armour were found beside the carcass, sir. Faror Hend has examined them and judges both well suited to the Azathanai.’
Calat Hustain sighed, and then shook his head. ‘I will see for myself. In the meantime, Ilgast Rend will command here, with the able assistance of Captain Aras.’
This detail still left Finarra with a sour taste in her mouth. Ilgast Rend was not a Warden. Even more disturbing, he had ridden in with Hunn Raal, only to become ensconced at Calat’s side for the past few weeks.
‘Find Faror Hend, captain, and send her to me. Ready your mounts.’
‘Yes sir.’
She stepped out into the main hall of the longhouse and into the midst of Wardens and servants rushing to and fro. The faint touch of panic among her comrades was disturbing, and she began to comprehend something of Calat Hustain’s unease: his evident disequilibrium. Were there Deniers among the Wardens? Fanatic worshippers of Mother Dark who would shed no tear at the slaughter of non-believers? Even here, she realized, this war could tear friend from friend, brother from sister.
Finarra saw Spinnock and Faror Hend seated at the far end of the long table dominating the hall. They were drawn close together, presumably to better hear each other through the cacophony as the rest of the table was being used by Wardens laying out the trappings of their armour for one last inspection. Finarra could see how Faror Hend had positioned herself to ensure that there would be incidental contact between her and her cousin. A spasm of resentment rushed through the captain, which she struggled to shake off.
Perhaps Calat Hustain had seen what she herself had seen. He had been explicit in telling her that he was taking Spinnock Durav with his company on their expedition to the Vitr. And he was sending Faror onward, down to the Hust Legion. But avoiding Kharkanas, where her betrothed is likely to be. A curious detail. I wonder what it means.
She made her way over to them. Was that a flash of guilt in Faror’s eyes when she looked up?
‘Sir.’
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‘Immediately.’
‘Sir, given the nature of my message to Mother Sheccanto, is it wise for you to relinquish your command here, even for a short time?’
‘I will know the truth of the new threat posed by the Vitr,’ he replied. ‘I will see for myself what remains of this dragon.’
She heard the faint scepticism in his tone and glanced away. ‘Sir, for what it is worth, I do not doubt a word of Sergeant Bered’s report.’
‘And the Azathanai?’
‘A sword and a woman’s armour were found beside the carcass, sir. Faror Hend has examined them and judges both well suited to the Azathanai.’
Calat Hustain sighed, and then shook his head. ‘I will see for myself. In the meantime, Ilgast Rend will command here, with the able assistance of Captain Aras.’
This detail still left Finarra with a sour taste in her mouth. Ilgast Rend was not a Warden. Even more disturbing, he had ridden in with Hunn Raal, only to become ensconced at Calat’s side for the past few weeks.
‘Find Faror Hend, captain, and send her to me. Ready your mounts.’
‘Yes sir.’
She stepped out into the main hall of the longhouse and into the midst of Wardens and servants rushing to and fro. The faint touch of panic among her comrades was disturbing, and she began to comprehend something of Calat Hustain’s unease: his evident disequilibrium. Were there Deniers among the Wardens? Fanatic worshippers of Mother Dark who would shed no tear at the slaughter of non-believers? Even here, she realized, this war could tear friend from friend, brother from sister.
Finarra saw Spinnock and Faror Hend seated at the far end of the long table dominating the hall. They were drawn close together, presumably to better hear each other through the cacophony as the rest of the table was being used by Wardens laying out the trappings of their armour for one last inspection. Finarra could see how Faror Hend had positioned herself to ensure that there would be incidental contact between her and her cousin. A spasm of resentment rushed through the captain, which she struggled to shake off.
Perhaps Calat Hustain had seen what she herself had seen. He had been explicit in telling her that he was taking Spinnock Durav with his company on their expedition to the Vitr. And he was sending Faror onward, down to the Hust Legion. But avoiding Kharkanas, where her betrothed is likely to be. A curious detail. I wonder what it means.
She made her way over to them. Was that a flash of guilt in Faror’s eyes when she looked up?
‘Sir.’
‘The commander wishes to speak with you, Faror.’
‘Very well.’ She rose, nodded cautiously to her cousin, and then made her way from the table.
Finarra pulled out the vacated chair and settled in it. ‘Spinnock, it seems you are to return to the Vitr without us.’
‘Sir?’
‘Your cousin and I are being sent elsewhere. It may be some time before we see each other again.’
The young man’s face displayed disappointment, but she saw no guile in that expression: no hint of darker regrets quickly hidden. Was he truly blind to his cousin’s unnatural attentions? ‘It would seem,’ she said, ‘that Calat Hustain no longer considers you a raw recruit, Spinnock. You are well measured by your deeds in saving my life, and it would not surprise me to hear of your promotion in rank before too long.’
His only response to that was an enigmatic smile.
Calat Hustain said, ‘It is my understanding that your betrothed rode with Sharenas Ankhadu to Kharkanas.’
Faror Hend nodded. ‘So I have been told, sir.’
‘In his zeal to discover your fate at the Vitr, Kagamandra Tulas revealed the virtues for which he is well known.’ The commander eyed her. ‘In failing to cross paths, Warden, you have missed an opportunity.’
She frowned. ‘I would not think it the last, sir.’
‘That does not help me now, however. Does it?’
It took a moment, but then she understood him. ‘Sir, my betrothed was elevated and now counts himself a noble.’
‘But he began as a captain in the Legion.’
‘Yes sir. He did.’
‘Then where, I wonder, does his loyalty lie?’
‘Perhaps, sir, Lord Ilgast Rend could better offer an opinion on that matter.’
‘You will ride with your captain to the Yannis Monastery, Warden, where she will deliver a message on my behalf. Immediately thereafter, you will part ways with her and ride to the Hust Legion encampment. While I have no doubt that Commander Toras Redone remains loyal to Mother Dark, it does not necessarily follow that she now sends her soldiers against Deniers. You will ascertain her stance and then return to me.’