“How big is his army?”
“Not big enough.” She frowned. “It was less than five thousand when I escaped, though it’d be bigger by now.”
“That’s not even enough to hold the south-west,” said Rix. “If Lyf attacks it, now he’s taken Bleddimire — ”
“Bleddimire’s fallen?” cried Holm. “When?”
“Weeks ago.”
“Then it’s over. He holds the best of Hightspall already and we’re left with the dregs.”
“Be damned!” cried Rix, leaping to his feet and towering over them. “We’re never giving in. Next time we’ll have a bigger victory. And a bigger one after that, until we drive the mongrels back down the rat holes they came from.”
He paced around the room, breathing heavily, then sat down with a thump. He looked up, met Tali’s eye and said with a rueful smile, “Or, more likely, until me and all my rebels are dead.”
“Count me among them,” Tali said impulsively. “The rebels, I mean.”
“Count us!” said Holm. “How dare you leave me out of it?”
Rix’s eyes shone. He wiped them hastily. “Thank you,” he said, embracing Tali and Holm in turn. “That means everything to me.”
“There is one other piece of news,” said Tali. “Two pieces, actually. And perhaps you’ll find them hopeful.”
“Go on.”
“From time to time I’ve been able to spy or eavesdrop on Lyf, via my gift.”
“Yes, yes?” said Rix.
“Lyf’s victory over Caulderon always seemed uncanny to me. Taking such a great and well-defended city within hours seemed too quick, too complete.”
“And to me, too.”
“That’s because it was uncanny.”
“How do you know?”
“I overheard him talking to his ghost ancestor, Errek. After Lyf added Deroe’s ebony pearls to his own, he drew on vast amounts of magery to attack our armies, and defeat them.”
“Why would I find that hopeful?” said Rix.
“Because he took too much. Lyf thought magery was limitless but it isn’t. It’s failing rapidly — his and the chief magian’s. It’s failing everywhere, even mine. So next time he fights a battle, he’ll have to do it without magery.”
“That is good news. I can’t fight magery, but I can fight men.”
They finished their dinner and a servant appeared to usher them to their quarters. Tali was glad to go. All she wanted was a bath and a bed. She followed the servant to the room prepared for her. It was small and spare, with a low ceiling and bare walls, but she liked small rooms and simple surroundings. It reminded her of the little stone chamber she had shared with her mother in Cython.
It did not remind her of the bad things about Cython, but rather the good ones, and the moment she lay down and blew out the candle, Tali fell asleep.
CHAPTER 52
Why did I withhold the news that Tobry was here? Rix wondered after they were gone. Certainly not to injure Tali. Could it have been to injure Tobry, though? He hadn’t stopped talking about Tali since he’d arrived, fretting about her bondage to the chancellor, the dire risk of him finding out that she bore the master pearl and the certainty that Lyf was hunting her.
For Rix, the joy of Tobry’s appearance had faded the night he came, when they had discussed Maloch, Herovianism and Rix’s mural of the opalised Axil Grandys. Another issue he did not want to talk about.
Since the enemy were unlikely to return until the bad weather broke, he had time on his hands. He found himself constantly drawn to the mural, and more so to the man it portrayed.
Grandys had been hard and ruthless, though that was a necessary characteristic of those who forged nations and won wars, and Rix could not blame the man for what he had done. Grandys had a driving purpose and a self-confidence that Rix himself yearned for.
Tobry mocked Rix mercilessly for this ambition, for his admiration of Grandys and almost everything else that gave Rix’s life meaning. Tobry had always poked fun at Rix, but in the past it had been gentle, part of the banter of their relationship. Now Tobry’s criticism had a hard edge, and Rix could tolerate less and less of it. He avoided Tobry most of the time, making excuses where he could.
And Tobry had withdrawn.
One by one I drive my friends away, Rix thought, and soon I’ll have none. I’ve got to do better. I’ll make it up to him as soon as he comes in from the hunt.
Tobry had been well liked in Palace Ricinus and almost everywhere in Caulderon, yet, oddly, few people in Garramide had taken to him. Perhaps that was why he had gone off by himself, hunting.
A knock at the outside door. Tobry’s knock! Rix’s heart jumped. He was back earlier than expected.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said, rising and hurrying forwards with his arms outstretched.
Tobry checked. A wary look came and went on his wind-burned face, then he smiled and said lightly, “You’re just hoping I had a successful hunt.”
“Indeed I am. And did you?”
“You’ll be eating your favourite food for a week.”
“Not wild boar?”
“The same. Or at least, wild sow — and suckling piglets.”
Rix’s smile faded. The females could be more dangerous than the males. “Sounds like a dangerous hunt.”
“For a minute or two I thought it might go either way. But I prevailed.”
“Tell all.”
Tobry told the tale of his hunt at length, and for that half hour it was like olden times, when they had been carefree youths and Rix had the world at his feet.
Tobry finished his tale, yawning. “I’m for bed, and a lie-in in the morning — if the enemy allow it. Have you heard anything of them?”
“No, have you?”
“Not a skerrick. I didn’t see another soul the whole time. Hardly surprising, considering the weather.”
“I suppose not. Good night.” Then, in a flash of compassion, Rix picked up the untouched tray on his table. “Could you leave this at the little room on the southern corner, on your way?”
“Of course,” said Tobry. “Who is it?”
“Just a visitor,” Rix said vaguely. “Sleep well.”
Tali was woken from a deep sleep by a quiet tap-tap at the door. It was the first night she had slept in a bed since fleeing Rutherin, and for a few drowsy seconds she thought she was back in that damp cell. But her room and her bed smelled different. It was cold, but it wasn’t damp, and the sheets smelled of lavender. She was in an entirely different fortress, hundreds of miles across Hightspall.
Assuming it was Holm, coming to talk to her about something, Tali slipped out of bed. She was padding across the freezing flagstones when the door opened and a man was silhouetted in the dim light.
“Holm?” she said softly. No, it wasn’t Holm. The shape wasn’t right, though it was familiar. But it couldn’t be him -
“Tobry?” she gasped. She clutched at her breast; she could hardly breathe. “Tobry, is that you?”
He dropped the tray, smashing the plates and glasses, and scattering cutlery and food everywhere. “Tali?”
Tobry leapt halfway across the room and took her in his arms, and the great nightmare was over.
After a couple of minutes she disengaged herself and lit the candle. The light grew. She held it up so she could see him.
“You’re dazzling me,” he said, moving it aside. “I can’t see your lovely face.”
“Never mind my face. I want to see yours.” She studied him, moving the candle from side to side. “You look tired. And older.”
“I feel older. I’ve had a hard time of it; at least, until I reached here.”
“Why didn’t Rix say anything?” said Tali.
“He didn’t mention me to you?”
“Not a whisper.”
“Nor me to you,” said Tobry. “I suppose he wanted it to be a surprise.”
Tears blurred her vision. “The best surprise of my life.”
“And mine. I was so worried about you.”
“I was sure you were dead.”
“I should have been… but I don’t want to talk about it now.”