He flowed back to the trees, and appeared in the midst of the Varenkai. The lightfists, who were still wary, saw him first. Glowing bolts flew towards him, but their small magic was nothing against his, and he barely felt the impact against his ward. He reached out, pushing through the lightfists’ defences, and shadowy snake heads darted in to slam against chests, flinging bodies backwards with trailing limbs. One, two, three, and the lightfists were down.
‘Faster than a sword blow,’ he told the stunned soldiers. ‘For that you can be thankful.’
He waved his hands, and shadows twisted through the soldiers. They barely had time to cry out.
‘And on and on,’ he said sadly, as they fell.
•
That night, Losara dreamed. He drifted above the armies, watching them as they really were. Several days after the attack on Jeddies, the Kainordans had managed to reinstate something of a proper camp, though rations were strict and resources stretched thin. Bel had a new campsite at the front, looking much like the old one – in fact, despite the ground Losara had taken, it was as if nothing had changed. He circled in closer, and set down.
‘It’s not that far away,’ Jaya was saying, drying her hair with a cloth.
‘All I said was be careful,’ said Bel. ‘Just because you don’t like bathing with soldiers is no reason to take risks.’
‘Risks?’ she laughed. ‘A quick dip in a stream within shout of this many? What do you expect me to do? A lady has some modesty.’
‘And you are this alleged lady ? Who is in possession of modesty , she claims?’
‘You can’t blame me,’ said Jaya. ‘After all, it was you who lost our bathtub!’
‘I’m sorry Brahl did not realise that rescuing it was such a priority. I will tell him next time to abandon the food and instead make sure my lady is well watered. She cannot run from shadowmanders if she isn’t feeling fresh, I will say.’
Jaya thumped him on the arm, and he smirked.
So , thought Losara, my cunning plan has resulted only in friendly jocularity.
Still, a part of him had to admire Bel’s ability not to think about things too much. Would that I had it too.
The dream swirled. Losara found himself seated in a stark room without a door, looking across a table at Bel. Bel clasped his hands together, while behind him light streamed in from a window, through which Losara could see rolling fields. He turned to find a window behind himself too, but this one showed dark plains, with a fine rain falling from the great Cloud.
‘You said you wanted to talk of peace?’ said Bel.
Losara frowned. Was that why he was here?
‘I’ve only thought about it a little,’ he said. ‘In truth I did not imagine that you, or the light in general, would be open to such an idea.’
‘While your own people are such martyrs,’ said Bel, raising an eyebrow. ‘Forced against their will to invade our lands, when all they really want is peace.’
Losara nodded. Bel was right – things were too far gone for peace. A shared one, anyway.
‘It would be, as you say, difficult to convince them,’ he said. ‘But I have wondered, once or twice …what is to stop each of us simply retiring to our own realms, and leaving the other alone forever? We could build a wall, very high, along the border. We could make a mutual law that no one crosses it.’
‘Bel and Losara, the wall-builders? Not quite what I had in mind for history’s pages.’
‘Just an idea.’ Losara shrugged. ‘Greatness is not always measured by what it replaces. Are you not yet tired of this war, Bel?’
‘Tired?’ said Bel, amused. ‘We’ve only just begun!’
‘I suppose. But would it not also be worthwhile to convince the world not to rip itself apart? History’s pages would remember that, if indeed you care about such things.’
Was that what he really believed? Somehow he did not feel in control. He was watching from within himself, unsure of where the words he spoke came from.
‘Have you forgotten?’ said Bel. ‘It is not just the people you must convince, but the very gods they follow.’ He pushed back from the table, rose and went to the window. For a while he looked out upon his sunny lands, then a smile tweaked the edge of his mouth. ‘Just say,’ he began, ‘that I decide your idea has some merit. Say that you and I are able to work out some kind of accord, allowing us to end this conflict. Our armies disperse, returning to their homes as if nothing ever happened. We even manage to convince the gods that their age-old hatred is just a little misunderstanding, and could they please stop our people despising each other for their different looks, their different ways, and all the harm already done.’
‘Say.’
Bel turned. ‘How long do you think it would last?’
Losara stared at him.
‘How long,’ said Bel, ‘until some disagreement, some dispute, some ruler with zeal in his eye and hunger in his belly …how long until tolerance gives way, until the old divides again seem insurmountable?’ He came forward, planted his fists on the table. ‘Until the end of time, Losara? Are you so naive?’
Inside Losara a great pressure built. He should be feeling something, and he could guess what it was.
Rage.
It was not caused by Bel, for he was no more sitting at this table than Losara was. They were puppets in a dream, a dream he felt certain he was being shown for a purpose. By whom? Fate, the Dark Gods?
Perhaps he could not truly feel the rage, but it was trying to exist nonetheless, an empty shape filling him up. It came because he was doubted, because his hesitance to kill had been noted, and because someone, somewhere, had decided to put him in this place. Mentally he asserted himself, took control of the dream and tore it apart, revealing only void beneath. As he floated free, he thundered.
I AM NOT TRYING TO MAKE PEACE , NOR EVER WAS. DO NOT TREAT ME AS A CHILD WITH THESE TRANSPARENT FIGMENTS.
He thought, for a moment, that he heard water lapping, and a splash …and then he woke. As his mind left the dream, the feelings it had planted crossed over. A great blankness consumed him. He fought to stay abreast of it, to retain sentience. He was doubted despite all he had done, despite the cost to himself and to others …and yet the rage that should have come did not. There was nothing in its place, and that nothing threatened to take over.
They seek to strengthen my resolve , he thought, yet all they achieve is to distract and disturb.
How well did they know his mind, his actions, to think such a vision necessary? They would not see as clearly here in Arkus’s domain, but maybe some skerrick, some moment of dithering, had reached them without the surrounding context. It was hard to know.
He rose from his bedroll – for some reason just then he did not feel like travelling in shadowform – and left the tent. He walked through the camp without really seeing the curious looks he was inspiring.
I do not desire to fight, yet I do. Surely when someone does something in spite of their personal qualms, that should be less reason to question their conviction, not more.
‘No wonder I did not swear to serve you first and only, Assedrynn,’ he muttered. ‘You have shown a lack of judgement with this sending. You should have more faith.’
He found that he had unconsciously wandered to Tyrellan’s camp. There sat the goblin as he usually was, cross-legged on a log watching the enemy. With a sigh, Losara sank down beside him.
‘How goes it, lord?’
‘Uncertain.’
Tyrellan considered him, unblinking.
‘Perhaps,’ said Losara, ‘we should have pushed a little harder, after we took Jeddies.’