“But Highness—” the captain protested. “Obey my orders, Yazour, Now!”
Yazour rode off, dismay written all over his face. Since he had fallen in with the sorceress, the Prince had grown ever more rash. Had she enchanted him? But that was nonsense. In the brief time they had fought together he had discovered respect for her. In fact, Yazour admitted, he liked her. It was simply that at long last, Harihn was acting like a prince and a man. It would take some getting used to.
Aurian drew hep~horse close to Harihn’s black mount,
“Well said, Highness—with one exception. I’m going to wait with you.”
“But Lady—”
“Don’t argue, Harihn.” She looked up once more at the precipitous road, her hands clammy on the reins of the bay horse that Harihn had given her. The thought of climbing all the way up there made her feel physically ill. “When I go up there, the last thing I want to see is that bloody drop. In fact, I’m not sure I can do it at all . . .” She made a wry face at her own irrational fear.
“Aurian!” the Prince protested.
“It’ll be all right.” The quiet, familiar voice at her shoulder was full of understanding. “At least that’s what you told me,” Anvar went on. “Remember the beach?”
Aurian remembered Anvar’s swimming lesson, and his terror of the water. And her so angry with him that she could have cheerfully drowned him on the spot.
“If I could do that, then you can do this,” he assured her, “I’ll be close, if you need me.”
Aurian’s turn to begin the ascent came all too soon, it seemed to her, although while they waited the sun had gone down and the valley bottom was shrouded in deep purple shadow, and the red rocks of the clifftop glowed crimson with sunset light. They dismounted at the bottom of the narrow track and Yazour handed each of them a torch to light their way. The Mage took her flaming brand reluctantly. “One hand for the torch and one to fead the horse,” she moaned. “What on earth am I going to hold on with?”
“The path is wider than it looks, my Lady,” Yazour told her. “Stay away from the edge and all will be well.”
Aurian gave him a sour look. “Fine,” she said faintly.
“Don’t worry, Lady,” Anvar said. “Look—I’ll go first, and you can follow me. Just don’t look down, and you’ll be all right,”
Biting her lip, Aurian began her ascent. The path was fairly smooth and the torches brought the dusk down around them so that the bottom of the abyss was lost in darkness. Nonetheless, she kept her eyes resolutely averted from the drop, fixing them on the ground at her feet and trying not to think of the plunge into empty air that waited just to her left. The real difficulty lay in turning the sharp corners where the path zigzagged. Suddenly the hindquarters of Anvar’s horse vanished from sight around the bend, and there was nothing ahead of her but the vast, dark gulf below. One slip going round there . . . She stepped back, reeling, pressing her back against the comforting solidity of the cliff face, unable to move. Her horse, impatient to follow its vanished companion, nudged her with its nose, pushing her nearer to the brink and almost making her drop the torch. “Stop that!” Aurian, shaking with shock, her heart in her mouth, smacked him hard on the nose, and the animal backed up a step, his eyes wide with astonishment,
“What’s happening up there? Why the delay?” Harihn’s voice came from farther down the path.
Aurian took a deep, steadying breath. “Don’t be feeble,” she scolded herself. “If Anvar could overcome his fear of water, surely you can manage this!” For certain, no one could come to her aid. The path was blocked in front and behind with horses. “It’s all right,” she called back, wishing it really was. Keeping her back pressed firmly against the rock, she sidled, step by shuffling step, around the corner, followed at a respectful distance by the chastened horse. Once she was around, and the solid, sloping path was before her once more, Aurian could have collapsed with relief, but there was still a long climb ahead, and she was holding up progress. Her dry mouth set in a grim line, e lifted her torch and trudged on.
It was a grueling climb. All in all, there were nine of the terrifying bends to negotiate, before they reached the top, and the higher they climbed, the more tired and balky the horses became. Aurian’s back and legs began to ache until every step was torture and she was gasping for breath. The drop switched from her left side to her right, then back again as the trail twisted back and forth, and the only time she gained a brief respite from her fear was when the road plunged into the cliff, creating blessed, solid walls on either side. Twice during the ascent she heard a bloodcurdling scream from above, and men and horses plummeted past her, dangerously close. The dull, wet sound of their eventual impacts left her sick and shaking,
“Aurian! Are you all right?”
The Mage looked dazedly around. There was level ground in front and on either jide of her—she had reached the top!
Gently, Anvar pried her fingers away from the torch and the horse’s reins and handed both to Bohan. Then putting an arm around her shoulders, he led her away from the edge. In the shadow of the rocks that lined the clifftop trail she clung to him, flinging her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder. He held her until her breathing steadied and her trembling eased.
“There,” Anvar said softly, his breath tickling her ear, “I told you you could do it.”
Aurian raised her head to look at him, and made a face.
Harihn stood at the brink of the cliff, looking down for the last time at the land he would have ruled. They were celebrating in the city. Fireworks were arcing into the air on comet-tails of silver sparks, to blossom with a bang into giant flowers of red, gold, and green in the night sky. Their light was echoed on the ground by the flames from the burning slave markets.
“Regrets, Prince?” Aurian had come quietly up behind him, Anvar a shadow at her heels. “If you want to return, I’m sure the people would welcome you.”
He shook his head. “I have no stomach for a revolution. Besides, that place holds evil memories for me. My way lies onward now. Xiang will get himself a new heir, no doubt.” “Not with this queen, he won’t.” Harihn turned abruptly to face Anvar, “What do you mean?”
Anvar’s eyes smoldered. “I mean, Highness, that Sara—the Khisihn—is barren. She lied to your father as she lied to me. As things stand, you’re still the only royal heir. You can go back one day—if you wish.”
Harihn’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” J
“Absolutely certain, Your Highness.”
“Aurian, did you know of this?”
The Mage shook her head, equally stunned by Anvar’s news.
The Prince threw back his head and roared with laughter “Balls of the Reaper!” he exclaimed in malicious delight, i “What a joke on my father! I wish I could be there when he finds out!”
Anvar’s thoughts had obviously been moving along the «imr lines. He looked sick, and Aurian finally understood the significance of his rejection of Sara. When Xiang found out that she was barren, she would be worthless to him—and her life might well be in danger. Anvar, though he had seen through her at last, felt guilty at leaving her to her fate. But does he still love her? Aurian wondered. Then she wondered why the idea bothered her so much.
The Prince’s caravan reassembled itself for the long trek ahead, and they set off once more. The track twisted and turned between tall rock formations that had been eroded into weird, contorted sculptures, like a frozen forest of stone. Holes of varying sizes had been worn right through some of them, and the light wind whistled and hooted eerily through these like the wailing of tortured souls, making the horses flinch and toss their heads uneasily.