“I never thought about it,” Leitos admitted. In truth, he knew nothing of Ulmek’s youth, and only a little of how he had become a Brother.
“Do not judge Ulmek too harshly. He and the rest of us are fighting a war with small hope of victory. But we will fight it, because we must. As I have always taught, you must become strong and cruel. To fight against the Faceless One and his demon-born armies, a man must be hard and utterly merciless … and the leader of such a man, all the more so. If Ba’Sel cannot see that the loyalty of the Brothers is disintegrating, if he cannot accept that he must stand and fight, then I see no other choice than to replace him.”
“Would you lead?” Leitos asked.
Adham shook his head. “I am an outsider. They must choose one of their own. Ulmek is the rightful choice, and he will need supporters. You, my son, can be the key to making that happen…if you are willing.”
Troubled, Leitos rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. He had coveted the weapon a long and trying year before passing his tests. Now he had it, and had used it to prevail against the agents of the Faceless One … and now his father wanted him to betray Ba’Sel, the man he had entrusted with his life, the man who had taught him so much, even beyond waging war.
“I cannot stand against Ba’Sel,” Leitos said, making up his mind. “When the time comes, he will stand for us, and all men. I know he will. He must.”
“I pray you are right, for time is short.”
“How do you mean?”
Adham glanced back at the waking Brothers, then farther down the beach, to where Ulmek stood looking into the forest. “Ulmek will act, even if opposed, because he, too, feels that he must. If the change of power is not smooth, infighting will destroy the threads that hold the Brothers together.”
Leitos sighed “We have to give Ba’Sel time to come around. I will talk to him myself. If I say nothing, and let Ulmek overthrow our leader, then I become a conspiring scoundrel. Such a road can only lead to destruction.”
“I understand your heart, my son. And without the threat of the Faceless One, I would agree with you. But we live in an age where pity, softness of any kind, leads only to death. I will not command you to go against your convictions, but trust that the odds are against those beliefs bearing good fruit.”
With that weighing on Leitos’s heart, they returned to Ba’Sel and the others, who had gathered around Ke’uld. Ulmek looked their way, his lean face a brooding mask.
Ba’Sel knelt beside Ke’uld and took his hand. “Brother,” he began, “you are not well.”
Ke’uld’s dark eyes rolled. Sweat beaded his sable skin, dampened the brittle fronds beneath him. “Surely you jest?”
“Your leg is….”
“Rotten,” Ke’uld finished for him, “and must come off, if I have any chance to live. Is that the way of it?”
Ba’Sel nodded, his eyes wet with unshed tears. The Brothers shuffled their feet, some peering at Ke’uld, others looking away, perhaps fearing to ever have to make such a decision for themselves.
“You have been as a father to me, since my own was killed,” Ke’uld whispered. “I’m glad you found me, but our time together has passed. Pa’amadin calls me home.”
Ba’Sel acknowledged this with a silent nod.
“Give me to the sea,” Ke’uld urged. “The sea will take me the rest of the way.”
“Brother,” Ba’Sel said, “are you sure this is what you want?”
“There is nothing you can do for me. Quickly now, give me the death I choose. Quickly. I hear Peropis’s breath in my ears, I feel her unholy touch upon my soul. She will devour my sin … but I will be free.” He grinned then, lips trembling. “Unlike you sad lot of bastards.”
A few rueful chuckles met this, but Ba’Sel looked horror-stricken. “I…. No. No, I cannot.”
“I understand. I do. But if not you, then Ulmek will do as I ask.”
Ba’Sel abruptly stood and moved off, struggling through the sand.
Halan gestured to Ulmek, and the stoic warrior dear near. Face unreadable, he looked after Ba’Sel for a time, then down at Ke’uld.
“Are you ready?” he asked without preamble, though his tone was gentle. When Ke’uld nodded, Leitos thought sure he saw a flash of remorse cross Ulmek’s rigid features. Then it was gone, replaced by a visage of stone.
“Help me,” Ulmek ordered. Not waiting to see if anyone would, he caught Ke’uld under the shoulders. Halan and five others joined him, and they gently lifted their fallen brother.
Leitos glanced at Ba’Sel, who had fallen to his knees, head bowed, shoulders shaking.
“Go to him,” Adham said gently. “Though I wish you would not, tell him what you feel you must.”
“What of Ke’uld?”
“He is with his kindred. At a man’s end, there is little else he could ask for.”
Leitos was halfway to Ba’Sel, when a shout from the forest drew him up short. Ulmek and the others, waist deep in the cove’s gentle surf, with Ke’uld floating between them, paused as well.
For a long moment, nothing moved. Then a Brother burst out of the forest, and behind him came a dozen men, tall and slender, with the most striking features Leitos had ever seen. Despite their peaceful expressions, he instinctively gripped his sword hilt.
The newcomers paused, observing all, then found Ulmek and the others standing in the surf.
“Bring your companion to us,” the tallest of the newcomers called.
The rest of the Brothers standing watch erupted from the forest. Swords bared, they crept close, apprehension alive on every face.
The strangers showed no indication of fear. That, more than all else, bothered Leitos. They reacted as if the armed men closing in on them were no more threatening than gnats.
“Bring your man to us,” the apparent leader said again, “and we will restore his life.”
Chapter 12
Hours seemed to pass before anyone moved. Then, all at once, Ulmek and the others returned to shore, bearing Ke’uld. Ba’Sel walked slowly toward the strangers, while the Brothers around the newcomers formed into a tight circle.
Leitos studied the strangers. The men were tall-the tallest standing head and shoulders above Ba’Sel. Besides delicate golden torques worn at their throats and matching armbands, they wore soft boots of pale leather, and unadorned ankle-length kilts white linen. Their arms and legs were extremely long, almost freakishly so, giving them a spindly appearance. Taken as a whole, he decided they could not be Yatoans-not if Zera had been of that people.
The closer Leitos came, the more he found to trouble him. Their skin had a faint golden cast, and without wrinkle or blemish. To the last, their narrow heads were shaved smooth. Those not keenly focused on the Brothers bringing Ke’uld ashore, gazed about with slitted eyes that tilted up at the edges, and were colored the hue and sheen of polished bronze. They are not men. Cannot be. And if not men, they must be-
“Alon’mahk’lar!” Leitos cried, drawing his sword. The word ripped from his throat at the same instant someone else shouted, “Changelings!”
In moments Halan, Ke’uld, and the Kelrens were the only ones not standing around the strangers. For all the swords and hard expressions, the golden folk seemed dismissive.
“I am Adu’lin-kalat a’Kuadaye,” the leader said placidly, his voice carrying an unmistakable note of disdain. His smirking lips mirrored that tone. “You may call me Adu’lin.”
“You have a strange look,” Sumahn said tactlessly. “Are you human?”
“We are as human as you.” Adu’lin seemed untroubled by the question. “We are known as Fauthians, an ancient and reclusive race dedicated to absolute peace and harmony. We mean you no harm. Be warned, however, there are those who creep over these islands who would seek to destroy you, as surely as they seek to destroy us. It is good that we found you, before they attacked your party.”