Fall of Light (The Kharkanas Trilogy 2)

‘We were well retired, milord, wintered and sedate. But our isolation proved far from complete. Emissaries from Lord Urusander. Your own Captain Kellaras. And, milord, one other.’

‘And which of these sent you to me, so unmindful of past gifts?’

‘Kellaras, milord, in his desperation, came with news from Kharkanas. Captain Sharenas Ankhadu, with warnings of the Legion’s impending march. And the other …’ Gripp hesitated, and then said, ‘Milord, Andarist came to us, seeking the privacy of our remote estate.’

Anomander was silent. They walked the frozen slush of the road. Already the lights from the camp’s fires were well behind them, and what heat might have lingered from those flames was long gone from both men.

After a time, Gripp spoke again. ‘Your brother Silchas sent Prazek and Dathenar to the Hust Legion, in aid of Galar Baras, although I am certain that Commander Toras Redone will finally relent, and will resume command in time for the Legion’s march to Kharkanas. In any case, we can presume they have already begun that march. Your own Houseblades await you in the Citadel.’

Anomander raised a hand then, forestalling Gripp. ‘I am well enough informed,’ he said, ‘of matters pertaining to Kharkanas.’

‘Of Prazek and Dathenar, Silchas had your blessing, milord?’

‘My brother’s mind is his own. In my absence, he is free to judge on matters of necessity.’

‘And Andarist? Milord, did you know he had found us?’

‘Not as such, Gripp, but then, who took him into her arms in his bleakest moment? Hish Tulla … ah, Gripp Galas, what have you done in leaving her side?’

‘You are needed, milord. Unless we would see uncontested Urusander’s occupation of Kharkanas.’

‘The blade is denied me, Gripp, by Mother Dark herself.’

‘Milord? Then you will surrender?’

Anomander’s steps slowed, and he tilted his head back, studying the span of stars in the sky above. ‘Captain Ivis begs me to assume command of his Houseblades. His own lord is less than a ghost, yet one whose shadow seems to haunt every one of us. Urusander’s triumph will see Draconus deposed, perhaps even outlawed. At the very least, a self-imposed banishment.’

‘You seek to deliver Ivis to his master, milord? Unto seeing Dracons Keep utterly abandoned?’

‘Draconus is a friend,’ Anomander replied.

‘My wife fears his allegiance.’

‘She fears the treachery of her highborn kin.’

‘Just so, milord.’

‘Tell me, Gripp Galas, do you think, should I request it of him, Lord Draconus would hold his forces in reserve?’

Gripp Galas looked away, south down the road. There was frost in the air itself, glittering like the falling dust of shattered stars. On this night, cold as it now was, he could well imagine the sky cracking with all the sound of thunder, until the darkness descended, a storm to take the world. ‘I’d not jar that man’s pride.’

Anomander was silent, still studying the stars.

Gripp Galas cleared his throat. ‘Milord, how is it you know of Kharkanas? Unless you but recently returned there—’

‘The High Mason knows the trembles of the frozen earth beneath our feet. More to the point, he is close to Grizzin Farl. These Azathanai walk their own roads of sorcery, it seems. In any case, each question I think to ask is in turn answered.’

‘Yet … not the one concerning Andarist?’

Anomander seemed to grimace. ‘A question I chose not to ask.’

But … why?

‘Gripp Galas, your refutation of my gift to you breaks my heart. But even in this, how can I not see my own wounded pride? The faces of both friend and enemy, it seems, offer us a mirror to our own, each in its time, each in its place. Should we not acknowledge these similarities of accord, and so find humility against our righteousness? How many wars must we fight before we ever draw a blade? The answer, I now think, is beyond count.’

‘Mother Dark would not see her lover torn from her arms, milord.’

‘No, I would think not, Gripp Galas.’