‘Don’t trust him, surr,’ said Mounce. ‘They’re treacherous devils, these Aachim.’
‘I don’t see that we have any choice.’
Nish rode forward, holding out his hands, wondering what they could want. Not until he was close did he recognise the young man as the fellow who had looked so distressed at the meeting.
Nish put out his hand. ‘I am Cryl-Nish Hlar.’
The Aachim put up his own. ‘I know you. Greetings, Marshal Hlar! I am Minis Una Inthis. My friends call me Minis.’
‘Since our meeting I’ve been demoted and am no longer marshal. Mine call me Nish. A dubious contraction, in some parts, but I have become inured to it.’
They gripped hands. The Aachim’s long fingers slipped right around Nish’s hand.
‘I wish to talk to you,’ said Minis, ‘if you will permit it?’
‘In ordinary circumstances I would be happy to,’ said Nish carefully. At any other time he would have seized the opportunity to learn more about the invaders. He was curious about Minis too, and his relationship with Tiaan that appeared to have precipitated their coming to Santhenar. Such a small affair; such vast consequences. But the safety of Yara and the children was paramount. ‘Unfortunately we are hurrying east and cannot –’
‘Just a few minutes,’ said Minis. ‘Please.’
Please? Minis was a profoundly different man from his offensive foster-father. Nish glanced at Yara, who had put herself between Minis and the children. She gave the faintest inclination of the head.
‘It’s hot here,’ said Nish, ‘and two of my companions are children. Shall we take tea in the shade?’
‘With pleasure,’ said Minis. ‘Though I can offer a cooling draught, if you prefer.’
‘I will speak to my companions.’ He went back to Yara. ‘Minis is the foster-son and heir of Vithis, the Aachim leader. He is also the man whom Tiaan … well, you know the story. I don’t believe he means us harm. He’s very polite and seems anxious to talk to me. We may do some good by speaking with him.’
Yara was watching the Aachim warily. ‘Or it might just be a game before they move against us,’ she hissed. ‘If they try anything, he dies!’ The look in her eye made his blood congeal.
‘Let’s see what he has to say,’ Nish said hastily. ‘Don’t do anything that will make things worse.’
‘How dare you! You led us into this trap.’
‘Then allow me to get us out of it.’ He whirled and rode back.
‘Girls!’ Yara snapped, ‘you will not stray from my side while the strangers are here.’
‘We don’t need to be told, Mother,’ said Liliwen, trying to look as grown up as possible.
Minis waited among the trees with a young man rather shorter and younger than himself, and a woman who might have been Nish’s age, insofar as it was possible to tell with the long-lived Aachim. She was pale of skin but with long straight black hair, and as slender as a reed.
‘My friends, Vunio and Tyara,’ said Minis, introducing the man and the woman in turn. They both looked troubled, like children out without permission.
Nish shook hands uneasily. If this went wrong, Yara would kill him too. He had no doubt that she could.
Minis said, ‘And your own friends …? Or perhaps they are your wife and children?’
‘Neither.’ Nish managed a smile at the thought. ‘I am merely escorting them home. These are troubled times in Santhenar. It is not as safe on the roads as it once was.’
‘Troubled indeed,’ said Minis, ‘and our coming has made it worse.’
‘This war has changed the world forever. Though … it’s all I’ve ever known.’
Vunio opened the basket, which contained a variety of delicacies as well as a box that turned out to be layered with ice. Flasks were set in it. Nish relaxed a little. How could they mean any harm? He had to remind himself that he knew little about them.
‘It is sweltering in our constructs,’ said Minis, ‘so we took a trip up to the mountains and hacked blocks from the snow. Santhenar is a hotter world than our own. The mountains were more to our liking.’
‘And it is yet mid-spring,’ said Nish. ‘These plains are torrid in the summer, I’m told.’
‘You are not from these parts?’ Minis enquired.
‘My home is almost as far west as it is possible to go from here. I also come from a cool place.’
Tyara levered the stopper from the flask and her eyes met Nish’s. They were large, oval and brown as chocolate. Beautiful eyes. ‘Will you take a glass with us?’ she said. ‘It is not strong, but you will find it refreshing.’
Nish tore his gaze away, mindful how easy it could be to give offence. ‘Thank you.’
She poured the wine into a glass. It was a glorious golden colour. He held it up to the evening light, admiring the luminosity. Taking an appreciative sniff, he waited until the other glasses were poured.
‘May I make a toast?’ he said.
‘Tost?’ Minis looked puzzled.
Nish explained the word and they all smiled. ‘We would be pleased,’ said Tyara, giving him a dazzling smile.
‘To good food, fine wine, and friendship between all the human kinds,’ said Nish. He raised his glass, watching them carefully.
‘To friendship between worlds,’ said Minis, and the others echoed him.
They seemed genuine. Nish drained his glass; Tyara refilled it, and the others.
‘What happened to Aachan is a tragedy,’ said Nish. ‘The death of a world.’
Minis frowned. ‘We hope … it will not come to that. Already we dream of going home, though it is not something I can foresee.’
They spoke of various matters, after which Minis set down his glass. ‘Would you care to take a walk in the forest, my friend?’
Was this a way to separate him from Yara? Well, whatever their intention, there was nothing he could do to change it. His heart beating rapidly, Nish said, ‘I’d be happy to join you. And then we really must be on our way.’
They rose and Minis linked his arm through Nish’s. Nish felt uncomfortable, for men did not do that where he came from; but after all, different worlds, different customs.
‘Our meeting was not an accident,’ Minis said as they strolled among the trees.
‘I did not think so,’ Nish said stiffly.
‘As soon as our scouts reported that you had left the army camp I decided to find you.’
‘Your scouts’ eyes must be keen,’ said Nish. ‘We saw no sign of you.’
‘They are keen. I imagine you know what I have come about.’
‘I do not assume,’ said Nish, ‘and would prefer not to guess.’
‘Tiaan Liise-Mar,’ Minis said, and sighed. ‘I treated her monstrously and can never forgive myself.’
Nish made no reply and shortly Minis said, ‘Shall we sit by this tree?’ It was a giant with a massive trunk of smooth white bark. They rested their backs against it. ‘You saw her at Tirthrax, I believe?’
‘Yes,’ said Nish. ‘I had followed her a long way.’
‘Do you know her then?’
‘Of course.’ Nish was surprised that the Aachim did not know that, but then why should he? ‘I worked at the same manufactory as her, for three years.’
‘What a fortunate man you are,’ cried Minis, taking Nish’s hands in his and shaking them vigorously. ‘She is the most beautiful woman in the world.’
The breath rushed out of Nish as he finally understood. Minis was no danger at all – he seemed to be rather a prat, or perhaps he was just very young, and obviously in love. ‘She has a certain charm.’
‘Were you friends?’ Minis squeezed his hands.
Nish detached them with the minimum of offence. ‘We were not, though there was a time when I was fond of her. We are too different, Minis.’
‘Tell me about her. Tell the whole story. I must know everything.’
Nish gave him the tale from the beginning, in brief, though glossing over the more shabby aspects of it. Fortunately Minis had ears for nothing but the beauty and the cleverness of his beloved. He seemed not to appreciate Nish’s bad behaviour, which was just as well.