“If you let him go, he's liable to do a lot worse damage to himself,” Brak warned. “Until the demons leave him, he's better off restrained.”
“Demons?” Adrina gasped in horror. “You mean he's possessed?”
“In a manner of speaking,” the Harshini shrugged.
“That can't be good for him.”
“It's the only thing keeping him alive,” R'shiel retorted, suddenly in no mood for Adrina's tactlessness. “How much longer, Brak?”
“It shouldn't be long now,” he said. “He's awake. That's a good sign.”
“How will the demons know when to leave?”
“Dranymire should sense when they're no longer needed. With luck, when the meld dissolves, all the brethren will follow.”
“With luck?” Damin repeated dubiously. “You mean there's no guarantee they'll all leave?” He stared at Tarja for a moment then turned to Adrina. “For future reference, my dear, if I ever take a fatal wound in battle and the Harshini offer to heal me by having me possessed by demons, let me die.”
“Never fear on that score, Damin. If you ever take a fatal wound in battle, I'll be more than happy to let you die.”
“Stop it!” R'shiel cried impatiently. “I'm sick of you both! Go away!”
The pair of them looked quite startled at her outburst. “I'm sorry, R'shiel...”
“Just leave.”
Without any further comment the Warlord and his bride beat a hasty retreat from the infirmary. R'shiel turned her attention back to Tarja, who seemed to have lapsed into unconsciousness again.
“I have to tell you, R'shiel,” Brak remarked as he watched them leave, “if the fate of Hythria and Fardohnya rests in the hands of those two, we're in big trouble.”
“They need to grow up,” R'shiel agreed impatiently. She had no time for the peculiarities of her friends at this point. She was more concerned about Tarja. “Isn't there anything we can do for him?”
“Not while the demons still substitute for the blood he's lost,” Brak told her.
“How much longer?”
“There's no way of knowing. But he's strong. If anyone can survive this, Tarja can.”
She watched for a moment, as Tarja's chest rose and fell in even, measured breaths. “Every day, I keep hoping... We've already been here too long. We have to leave. I can't keep putting it off.”
“We have a wedding feast to attend first.”
“Don't remind me.” She pulled the blanket up and smoothed it, then looked at Brak. “I just hope those two behave, tonight. If not, I'll strangle the pair of them.”
“Don't worry, they won't dare cross the demon child.”
“Are you making fun of me, Brak?”
He smiled. “Just a little bit.”
She returned his smile wanly. “Don't you ever get sick of watching over me?”
“Constantly. But it's a task I'll be doing for some time yet,” he replied as his smile faded.
“What do you mean?”
“You've chosen which side you're on, demon child. You don't think Xaphista is just going to stand back and watch while you set about destroying him, do you?”
“You think he'll send more priests after me?”
“You should be so lucky,” he told her. “A priest you can see. No, I'm afraid he'll be a bit subtler this time. He'll probably try to turn someone close to you against you. Someone you trust. Someone who can get near you.”
R'shiel studied Brak for a long moment then glanced down at Tarja. “You think he'll turn Tarja against me, don't you?”
“Tarja, Damin, Adrina, one of the Defenders, who knows? Any one of them could become your enemy and you won't know a thing about it until they're pulling the knife from your back.”
R'shiel stroked Tarja's brow gently before she answered. “Tarja would never betray me.”
“Perhaps not. But trust no one, R'shiel.”
“Not even you?”
Brak smiled thinly. “Xaphista can't turn me to his cause, or any Harshini for that matter. He began as a demon and he was never bonded to my clan or yours. The Harshini you can trust.”
“But nobody else?”
“Nobody else.”
She stood up, frowning at the idea that everybody she knew was a potential traitor. “Brak, I really don't like being the demon child, you know that, don't you?”
Brak shrugged. “We all have a destiny we can't avoid, R'shiel.”
“I don't believe in destiny.”
“I know. That's why the Primal Gods are so worried.”
That thought actually cheered her a little. “The Primal Gods are worried?”
“They're worried,” he agreed.
“Good,” she declared petulantly. “They damned well should be.”
CHAPTER 3
R'shiel escaped the mess tent and the wedding feast as soon as she could slip away without being rude. She had arranged this wedding and felt that the least she could do was make some attempt to be sociable, although Brak's warning about Xaphista worried her more than she cared to admit. She had found herself studying faces in the candlelight, wondering who the Overlord would suborn. Which familiar face was really her enemy? Whose eyes hid treachery and whose were genuine in their friendship? She escaped the tent with relief, glad finally to be alone. Brak seemed to sense what bothered her and made no attempt to follow.
She paced the large Defender camp, too restless to seek her bed. Since returning from Sanctuary, R'shiel found she didn't need sleep the way she once had. While a useful trait at times, in the darkest hours of the night, when the human spirit was at its lowest ebb, she felt the burden of her destiny keenly. With Brak's caution about potential enemies ringing in her ears, tonight it seemed harder than usual.
But she was not unhappy. In fact, it was frightening to discover how much she was enjoying herself. She had told Brak she did not believe in destiny, but Joyhinia had unwittingly raised her for this. Every lesson she learnt at Joyhinia's knee was aimed at educating her in the art of survival in the cutthroat politics of the Sisters of the Blade.
R'shiel had rebelled against it as a child. Now she found it not only useful, but almost exhilarating. She frequently told Brak that she hated being the demon child, but there were times when it was intoxicating to have princes and princesses deferring to her. Even the Defenders, who had never treated her as much more than the annoying little sister of one of their officers, now treated her with cautious awe.
For the first time in her life she understood the attraction of power, but was still idealistic enough to hope that it would not corrupt her. R'shiel had not yet reached the point where she was willing to sacrifice anything to achieve her goals. But she was prepared to do a great deal. As Brak had said, she had chosen which side she would be on. All that remained now was for her to do what the Primal Gods had created her for - a destiny she had absolutely no idea how she was going to fulfil.
Her thoughts turned to Hythria, and the reason she had agreed to accompany Damin and Adrina south. Originally, she agreed to go with them to aid Damin's cause and to avert potential trouble now that he was married to the daughter of Hythria's most despised enemy. But in the past few days R'shiel had realised she had to go south because that was where the Sorcerers' Collective was located. If anybody left alive in this world had the knowledge of how to kill a god, the last human practitioners of magic would. R'shiel had already tasted Xaphista's lure and although she would never admit it to Brak, she doubted she could hold out against him a second time. She needed knowledge that even the Harshini did not possess. They had no idea how to kill a god. They couldn't even squash a flea.