Yusek looked at him sharply. He gripped his neck. Something like panic had entered his eyes. She straightened. ‘You know what they’re looking for.’
‘I … can’t say.’
Yusek found her hand had gone to her long-knife. ‘Can’t? Or won’t?’
His gaze took in her tensed grip. ‘What is your name, child?’
‘Do not call me child.’
He searched her face. ‘No … I suppose not. My mistake again. Would you give me your name?’
‘Yusek.’
He nodded. ‘Come, Yusek. Let us talk.’ He invited her back to the huts. After one last glance at Lorkal, she followed.
‘What do you know of the Ascendants?’ he asked as they walked along, his breath pluming in the frigid early-morning air. They were higher up here and Yusek shuddered anew — her leathers and underclothes were still damp and they were sucking the warmth from her once again.
‘Ascendants?’ she answered, bemused. ‘Just what I’ve heard in stories and such. Why?’
He led her back to the hut she had woken in. The two children jumped away from the hearth, where the plate and bowl now sat empty. He clapped his hands. ‘Go gather a selection of clothes.’ The pair bowed to Yusek and dashed from the hut. He sat next to the hearth, began rebuilding the fire. She sat as well, willing to grant the man a few moments before she left to find Sall.
‘Ascendants,’ he began. ‘I mention them because they are very few and far between, yes? Yet so many must arise in potential or power, only to fall short. We know of how many? The Warlord, the Lord of Moon’s Spawn, one or two others. Why do so few achieve such heights?’
‘What are you? Some kind of scholar?’
A small shrug. ‘Scholarship is a hobby only. I am a mage.’
Yusek stared at him; this was the first man or woman she’d ever met of any self-admitted talent. ‘A mage? Really? Why didn’t you blast Dernan to ash?’
Tolerant amusement twitched his mouth. ‘Mages whose, ah, aspects are useful in warfare or in combat are a very small minority, I assure you.’
Yusek wasn’t sure what to make of him or all this talk. ‘You have a point? Because I’m not in the mood to chat.’
He raised a hand to beg her indulgence. ‘The children are gone to gather you warm clothes. Surely I have until then?’
She merely grunted to urge him on.
‘I believe there are many more Ascendants out there in the world, of course. Most are far less — how shall I put it? — blatant in their activities. Such as the Enchantress, the Queen of Dreams. Now, why should that be among such powerful entities? Anyway, who dare oppose them? Well, each other, of course. I believe Ascendancy is something of a struggle. A constant effort to assert one’s identity. An eternal reinscribing of what one is. And why? Because there are others out there, rivals, all vying for what are, after all, in the end, a very limited set of roles or identities.’
‘The Dragons Deck?’ Yusek said, drawn into the man’s discourse despite her impatience.
Bo nodded, impressed. ‘Yes. I believe the cards serve as one expression of these identities. There are many others, of course. And they are by no means exhaustive either. So too with godhead, I believe.’ He waved a stick as if to encompass the entire lowlands to the east. ‘Look at this ferment over the god of war. Who will it be in the end? Will its face be that of a beast? A wolf? Or some other? Who is to say? Only time will tell. But I digress.’
He set his elbows on his knees, examined the stick. ‘I say all this because there is a small retreat in these mountains. A monastery or sanctuary, call it what you will. Very small, very remote. There, it is rumoured, someone has taken up residence. Someone who may count among those few thrown up every hundred years or so who could achieve Ascendancy. Think of that!’ he breathed, almost in wonder. ‘An Ascendant of our age. Just as the Warlord, Caladan Brood, is of his distant age. A stunning thought.’
‘So where is it?’
‘Ah! Well. We have arrived at the crux of the problem.’ He squeezed the thin stick in his hands. ‘I don’t know if I should tell you.’
Yusek snorted her impatience. ‘You’ll tell them when they get here. Believe me.’
He blinked up at her, calmly. ‘No, I won’t, Yusek. What will they do? Do you think they will torture me the way Dernan did Lorkal?’
The idea disgusted her; as if he’d asked whether she would. He dared ask that after what happened to Lorkal? She stood to wave her dismissal. ‘Fine. We’ll just ask someone else.’ He started to speak but the boy and girl came bustling in carrying armloads of clothing. Bo dusted his hands, bowed to her, and left her to it.
Later she emerged warm and well insulated. Tall hide moccasins, their fleece turned inwards, rose to her knees over leather trousers. She had also put on multiple layers of shirts. Of what armour fit her, the best she could find was a heavy leather gambeson sewn with bands of what looked to be shaved horn and antler. Over that she’d pulled a thick wool cloak. A sheepskin hat and toughened hide gloves finished it all off.
She took a path at random, meaning to track down Sall. As she went she belted on the longsword she’d scavenged, leaving the two knives at her waist as well. Armed to the teeth now, she thought, adjusting the strange new weight on her left hip. Not that it’ll do me any good — don’t know how to use the damned thing.
She found Sall, his hood down, at a high point in the village, keeping watch. ‘Where’s Lo?’
‘On the path.’ Sall gave the slightest inclination of his masked head — the closest he came to pointing. ‘This village possesses an excellent defensive position. The path is its only entrance.’
Not that it did them any good. ‘What now?’
The mask shifted; brown eyes examined her. ‘You are recovered?’
‘A hot meal and I will be.’
‘Very good. Collect supplies and we will depart.’
She turned to go but stopped, thinking of something. ‘You saw Lorkal?’
‘Yes. We saw her.’
‘And — you killed Dernan?’
The mask tilted ever so slightly. The light played over its complex lines. ‘Which one of them was he?’
Great Goddess … Yusek waved it aside. ‘Never mind.’ She went to find Bo.
The mage was speaking to the rag-tag remnants of slaves and bondsmen Dernan had kept: youths, oldsters, a few women fat with child. People probably dragged off from all the caravans and traders he’d slaughtered. Bo appeared to be organizing them into packing everything up.
‘What’s this?’ Yusek asked.
The mage gave her an impatient look. ‘We can hardly just hang about waiting for the next gang of thuggish swordsmen to claim the place. Thanks to your Seguleh we’re utterly defenceless.’
‘Thanks to them you’re free!’
‘Free to be enslaved. Free to starve. Free to be abused or murdered at a whim. Yes. Freedom — rather more complicated in the concrete than the abstract, yes?’
Yusek just curled a lip. ‘Don’t play your word games with me. I’m not interested.’
‘The fate of someone unarmed, or alone, or unprepared, in this lawless wilderness is hardly a game.’
‘Fine. Whatever you say. Listen … I don’t know why I’m doing this because I really don’t give a damn … but take your troop south. You know Orbern’s hold? Orbern-town, he calls it.’
‘Yes? What of it? Why should I deliver these people and myself to yet another murderous petty warlord?’
Yusek exploded in laughter. ‘Old man … calling Orbern a warlord is like calling a grandmother a courtesan. He’s just not the right material. Go to him and say you’re settlers. Settlers come to Orbern-town. I swear, he’ll hug every one of you.’
Bo looked doubtful. ‘You’re quite certain …’
‘Absolutely. Now, we need two packs of supplies ourselves.’
‘I will see to it. We can manage that at least, I suppose. You are determined to head north, even further into the mountains?’
‘Yes.’