Yugi seemed a little surprised, apparently deciding whether to take umbrage or not. Then he sagged, and merely looked weary. 'You're far from the first to tell me that. It's not so simple.'
'Cailin could help you overcome the addiction, perhaps,' Mishani suggested, brushing her hair over her shoulder.
Yugi snorted a laugh. 'I'm not addicted, Mishani. I smoked amaxa root for years and it never got a hold on me. The root is only a symptom of the cause.'
'What, then, is the cause?' she asked.
He did not answer for a while, debating whether to tell her or not. Mishani was no confidante of his. But she waited patiently, and finally he shrugged and sighed.
'I was a bandit, once,' he said. 'I imagine you know that.'
'I had surmised as much from things Zaelis said,' she admitted.
'Did you also know that I had a woman back then?'
'A wife?'
'As near as can be. We had little use for marriage, and no priests.'
'That I did not know.'
Yugi was tentative, ready to abandon this conversation at the slightest hint of sarcasm or mockery from Mishani. She gave him none. This was important to him, and that made it important to her, for he was the leader of the Libera Dramach and any knowledge about his state of mind could be advantageous.
'Her name was Keila,' he said. He opened his mouth to say more, perhaps to describe her to Mishani, perhaps to talk of what he felt for her; but he changed his mind. Mishani understood that. Words seemed mawkish that were most deeply felt.
'What happened to her?' Mishani asked.
'She died,' Yugi said. He looked down at the ground.
'Because of you,' Mishani said, reading his reaction.
He nodded. 'There were perhaps a hundred of us at our height. And we had a reputation. We were the most feared bandit gang from Barask to Tchamaska.'
'And you led them, back then?' Mishani guessed.
Yugi nodded. 'Gods, I'm not proud of some of the things I did. We were bandits, Mishani. That made us killers, thieves, and worse. Every man had his morals, every man had… things he wouldn't do. But there was always someone who would.'
He gave Mishani a wary glance. She watched him steadily, showing nothing. He was searching for condemnation from her, but she would not condemn him. Her own past was hardly unstained.
'A man can… detach himself,' Yugi murmured. 'He can learn to see people as obstacles, or objects. He can learn to shut out the crying of women and the look in his enemy's eyes as he dies. They are just animal reactions, like the thrashing of a wounded rabbit or the twisting of a fish on a hook. A man can persuade himself to the necessity of anything, if he has the will to.' The lake was grey and still in the dawn light. He gazed into it. 'The world of bandits was a ruthless one. We had to be more ruthless still.' He smiled faintly, but it was bitter and there was no joy there.
'Does it disturb you?' he asked. 'To know that the leader of the Libera Dramach is a thief and a murderer?'
'No,' said Mishani. 'I ceased to believe in innocence long ago. A bandit may kill a hundred men, but those we choose to govern us kill many times that number with their schemes and policies. I learned of such things at court. At least your way of murder is honest.' She watched a bird winging its way across the lake, south to north. 'I cannot speak for others, but I do not care about your past. I did not know those you harmed, and to be outraged at you would be false sentiment. We are all of us guilty of things that make us ashamed. Good men do evil deeds, and evil men can become good. I care only what you do now, Yugi, for you hold the reins of many lives.' The bird disappeared at last, vanishing in the distance, and she shifted herself where she sat and turned her eyes to him again. 'Go on with your tale.'
'We made enemies, of course,' Yugi said after a time. 'Other bandit gangs wanted to topple us, but none of them had a chance against our strength. I became overconfident.' He began to pick at the cloth between his knees. 'There was word of a gathering of our rivals. I led my men out to ambush them. But it was a trick. One I should have seen coming.'
'They ambushed you?'
'Not us. They raided our camp, where we had left our women and children. There were only a dozen fighting men there. I didn't think they knew where we hid, didn't think they'd dare to attack us even if they did know. Wrong on both counts.' His eyes tightened. 'Gods, when we got back…'
Mishani was silent. She pulled her shawl a little tighter around her to fend off the cold.
'She wasn't quite dead when I found her. I'll never know how she held on that long. But she waited for me, and… we…' His voice failed him. He swallowed. 'She died in my arms.'
He stared furiously out across the lake, taut with a festering anger. 'And do you know what my first thought was after she had died? My very first? I'll tell you. I deserved it. I deserved for her to die. Because I realised then that every person who died on my blade had a mother or a brother or a child who felt the grief that I was feeling. And I tore a strip from the hem of her dress and I wrapped it around my head, and I swore I'd wear it always to remind me of what I'd done, and who I'd lost because of it.' He touched the dirty rag around his forehead. 'This.'
'And what happened afterward?' Mishani asked. She did not offer sympathy. She did not think he wanted any from her, nor would she have given it if he had.
'The others were already screaming for revenge,' he said. 'But I knew how it would be. Our retribution would spark other retributions, as it always had and always would. Running around in circles, getting nowhere, an endless back and forth of blades and bleeding bodies. And so I walked away from there. They thought to give me space, to let me grieve for my woman. They thought I would be back.' His eyes were flat. 'But I never came back.'
Mishani knew the rest from Zaelis: how Yugi had drifted into the Libera Dramach; how his natural leadership skills and experience had made him more and more invaluable until he had become Zaelis's right-hand man; how, after Zaelis had died at the Fold, he had become the head of the Libera Dramach. And she understood him now.
'You do not want to lead these people, do you?' she asked.
Yugi looked at her for a long moment, then tilted his head in affirmation. 'I'm no general like Zahn. I don't have the vision and ambition that Zaelis had. I led a hundred men and I led them well, but in the end I failed and it cost me the only thing I ever…' He looked away. 'Ah, what use is talking?'
'You could step down,' said Mishani.
'No, I couldn't. Because I'm still the best gods-damned leader they've got. Zaelis may have picked his men well, but he couldn't get generals, he couldn't get war-makers. They belong to the noble houses, and the moment one of them get near the Libera Dramach, the moment politics becomes involved, then it's over for us. They all want Lucia.'
Mishani nodded. 'There is sense in what you say. Even Zahn would be a danger. But can you lead thousands to war, Yugi? Your skills were of great use in the Fold, but then you were fighting as bandits fight. It may come to a moment when you must be a general, and your choices on the battlefield will cost many lives. Will you be able to make those choices? Or will you hide in your drugged dreams?'
Yugi looked grim. 'If it's my punishment that I must suffer to lead these men and women, then I'll bear it because I have to. The gods certainly have a sick sense of humour, to make revenge on me for my past misdeeds by giving me more lives to ruin.'
'They do indeed,' said Mishani.
Yugi got to his feet then. Nuki's eye had risen a little more by now. The lake was blue, and the air was warming. 'Thank you for hearing me out, Mishani. I don't know why I chose to talk to you of all people, but I'm glad I did.' He looked up the slope, to where the white temples of Araka Jo stood crumbling. 'How is it that our past dictates our future?' he wondered aloud. 'Where's the sense in that?'