There had never been a usurper in the Weavers before; but then, they had never needed one until now. Weave-lords had become liabilities to their patrons in the past, but they had been mere inconveniences. Kakre was the first Weave-lord who had command: command of the Aberrant armies, the feya-kori, and through Avun, the Blackguard. And a commander who was insane worked against the best interests of the Weavers.
Avun had to decide: was Fahrekh genuine, or was this all a trick?
'How would you do it?' he asked.
'I will catch him after he has Weaved. During his mania, when he is vulnerable.' Avun could feel the Weaver studying him from behind his Mask. 'I will need you to help me,' he said.
This was what Avun had feared. To commit himself would mean his death, if Fahrekh was false.
'What would you have me do?'
'We must contrive a reason for him to Weave. Something very difficult. I will supply you with the task; you must persuade him to take it up. Once exhausted, I will strike.'
'And after he is dead? I suppose you will be the new Weave-lord?'
'For the good of the Weavers,' Fahrekh said. 'I shall expect your immediate support.'
The branches rattled as the two of them faced each other beneath the iron-grey sky. Avun knew there was no way to be sure of the creature before him. Who could tell what kind of madness lurked beneath that surface? But he also knew that Kakre was a liability, and becoming more so by the day, and sooner or later he might take it into his head to get rid of his Lord Protector. There was risk in both action and inaction, and in the end, he had to trust his intuition. And he was an expert betrayer.
'I will do as you ask,' he said.
Fahrekh nodded slowly, once. He turned and departed without a word. Avun watched him go, and then clutched his cloak tighter around him. It really was cold out here; he had begun to shiver.
FIFTEEN
Nuki's eye rose on a clear, chilly day, the grass trembling with dew; but Kaiku, Lucia, and their companions were up long before, and as they ate a cold breakfast, their eyes were on the trees. The endless wall of trees.
They had camped within sight of the southern edge of the Forest of Xu, on the north bank of the River Ko. Few of them had slept much that night. Those that did woke unrested, complaining of ill dreams. There were twenty-five of them in alclass="underline" Kaiku and Phaeca, Lucia, Asara, the three Tkiurathi, and eighteen other men and women of the Libera Dramach. They were here to face the Forest, and to find that which lurked at its heart: the Xhiang Xhi, most ancient and powerful of all the land's spirits.
Kaiku returned to the camp, having washed in the river. Her teeth should have been chattering, but the autonomic reaction of her kana had raised her body temperature enough to cope. She was taking such things for granted now, her sense of wonder having faded over time. Perhaps she could not yet bring herself to believe Cailin's screed about how the Sisters and certain other Aberrants were superior to those who had not been changed by the Weavers' blight; but she could not resist a private smirk of amusement at the sight of the other soldiers hopping and flapping to warm themselves after dunking their stripped upper bodies in the freezing water.
She stood on the crest of the river bank and debated for a moment whether to dress herself as a Sister or to remain in her tough, sexless travelling attire. She decided on the latter, in the end. It felt somehow false to put on the face of the Red Order to go into the forest. The forest would not be fooled.
She stared grimly at the trees, the border between humanity's realm and that of the spirits. They stretched from horizon to horizon east to west, and rose upon hills in the northern distance. The Forest of Xu was the single largest feature of Saramyr west of the mountains, almost three hundred miles north to south and two-thirds that in width, bigger even than the colossal Lake Azlea which neighboured it. The only information about what lay within were rumours and legends, and none of them pleasant. The Saramyr folk had learned long ago that their land was big enough to live in without disturbing the spirits, and the Forest of Xu was the densest concentration of spirits in the land. Half-hearted attempts at exploration had been made, in advance of a foolhardy plan to build a road through the trees to facilitate trade between Barask and Saraku. Few who went in there had ever come out. Those that did escape left their sanity behind.
It would be suicide, then, to set foot in such a place. But this time, they had something new. This time, they had Lucia. And on her slender shoulders rested all their lives.
As if sensing her thoughts, Lucia appeared at her side. Kaiku glanced over at her, then back at the forest.
'It hates us,' Lucia whispered.
'I know,' Kaiku murmured. 'It has a right to.'
A line creased Lucia's brow. 'We are not the enemies, Kaiku. The Weavers are.'
'The Weavers were like us once,' Kaiku said.
'But it is their god that makes them what they are,' Lucia said. She sounded frail, ready to shatter, and part of Kaiku did not even want to respond to this. But she had to now.
'Their god never made anyone join the Weavers. Not after those first ones. The rest came of their own free will. He never made them put on the Masks. That was ambition, and greed, and the need to control and dominate. There is no depravity they commit that was not already there inside them. It is only that their consciences have withered.' She brushed her hair back from her face. 'They are just men. Men who wanted power, the way all men do.'
'Not all men,' said Lucia.
Kaiku looked over at where Tsata was sitting cross-legged, talking with his two companions. She nodded slightly. 'Not all men.'
'Don't despair,' Lucia said, laying a hand on her arm. 'Please. You have always been stronger than me. I can't do this if you don't believe.'
'Then do not do it,' Kaiku replied, turning to her. 'Go back, and I will go back with you.'
Lucia's smile was sad. 'You have always thought of me over everybody else,' she said. 'Even if it cost the world, even if it cost the Golden Realm itself, you would have me prize my own safety before others.' She embraced Kaiku. 'You, and you only.'
Kaiku felt a slow tightening in her heart; she knew by Lucia's tone that there was no dissuading her.
Lucia released her and looked into her eyes. 'Nobody is safe any more, Kaiku.'
They made ready to leave as the dawn light grew. Little was said. There was a palpable air of foreboding among them. A pair of manthxwa had been brought as pack animals, but like the ravens that had accompanied Lucia on her journey from Araka Jo they refused to go nearer to the forest than they already were. In the end the travellers were forced to distribute their supplies as best they could and turn the creatures loose. Only the Tkiurathi did not seem intimidated.
Kaiku caught Asara looking at her strangely. Asara did not break the gaze; in the end, Kaiku did. Gods, it was bad enough going in there at all, but with Asara's black hints at some debt to be discharged, she was not sure whether that woman was to be trusted. Why had she come? She was never one to recklessly endanger herself. What price would she demand of Kaiku in return for saving her life?
There was only one reason why the Aberrant spy was here, risking her life with the rest of them. She had unfinished business. When they were ready, they gathered at the edge of the trees. Beyond, the forest was a tangle of boughs and bushes, the ground knotted with hillocks and roots. Birds chittered, insects droned, distant animal cries could be heard. There was nothing out of the ordinary that they could see; but some prickling sense on the fringe of perception warned them against stepping past the ranked trunks of the border, something deep and primal.