The Heart of the mirage

'They sent me. To warn you. They don't want unnecessary deaths.'

'They sent you? The Kardis? You, a Legata Compeer? To take a message like some slave? Vortex, Ligea, you've changed since I knew you in Tyr! There was a time when you would have sent them to a lifetime in the Cages and joked about it, not carried their messages.'

'This is not Tyrans, Fayo. This is Kardiastan. I have

no power over these people – they control numina with sorcerous power.'

Fear battled disbelief. 'They have ensorcelled you?'

'No, no. I came of my own free will. To warn you. Tyrans has no way of defeating the people of the Mirage. If you try, you will all die. A wise man shoulders his pack and takes his leave when he meets his match and here the Stalwarts have met something they cannot conquer. Persuade the Legate to turn back, Favo.'

He made a gesture of helplessness. 'Surely you can see how it is? We won't be turning back. We cant. Not when we have come so far and have so little to show for it. We haven't even met the enemy in battle, how can we justify a retreat? We have our pride!'

'You have just met the enemy. And pride won't save you. It will kill you.'

'Yes,' he said bleakly. 'Perhaps. So be it.' He glanced at Brand and then back again. 'And perhaps it won't worry you all that much, either.' He turned towards the camp, shouting orders as he went.

I entered the tent.

'Well, it doesn't seem as though your whirlwind accomplished much, does it?' Brand asked, following me. 'Except the death of a couple of legionnaires.'

I looked across at him, wondering what he was thinking. 'I find that the easier it is to kill, the more reluctant I am to do so, and the harder it is to live with when I have done it.' I pulled off my glove and looked down at my left palm. 'Life was a lot easier when I was a compeer and had no scruples.' I raised my eyes to his. 'Two dead, Brand, just like that. Maybe more. But they had orders to kill babies…'

He nodded, understanding. As I staggered with fatigue and weakness, he came to me wordlessly and

held me in his arms. I took comfort from his closeness and stood within the circle of his love, drawing courage from his friendship. Then, sensing that this time my proximity was not a torment to him, I drew back a little, in wonder. 'I thought – I thought you were the only one who hadn't changed.'

"What do you mean?'

I stepped away from him and went to sit down on my pallet, my arms resting on propped knees. 'Everyone has altered so much. Including myself. I don't think like a Brotherhood Compeer, any more -'

'Goddess be thanked!'

'Perhaps. But I was happier when a compeer was all I was. I was arrogant, cruel even, but at least I was never as uncertain and muddled and miserable as I am now.' I dropped my head down onto my arms. 'And I'm not the only one. Look at Aemid. She's changed. She's free, among her own people in her own land, yet she's racked with guilt. She'll feel even worse once she realises that I haven't betrayed Kardiastan, but Tyrans. And what about Favonius? He wanted to marry me once, and now he looks at me and I can see him thinking, "She's a Kardi, a barbarian. How could I ever have loved her?" He despises me, Brand. I felt his emotions, and I didn't know him! Faced with something he cannot fight, he has reverted to a primitive sort of hate for anyone or anything different from him.' I shuddered. 'Everyone I have touched has changed. Almost as though I contaminate. Do you remember how much Temellin used to laugh? And Garis; he was always so cheerful and resilient – so mischievous! Was that the same youth who left us to go to Temellin? Even Pinar changed. She might always have been jealous, but she wasn't mad at the beginning.' f

¦ He knelt beside me, and touched my hair gently. 'I'm not unhappy. Or despising. Or mad, either.'

'No, but you have changed nonetheless. Your passion for me has dulled. Do – do you fear me, Brand?'

He laughed, an unforced chuckle of amusement. 'No. No, I could never fear you. Not even when I was a slave, and you were that arrogant bitch, hanging on Gayed's every word. I always knew what was inside you, Ligea. I always knew there was more compassion there than cruelty or indifference. And now that compassion rather than arrogance rules you, I think I love you even more than I did then.' n: For a moment I was silent, half hearing what he had not said. 'But?' I asked finally.

He chuckled again, wryly this time. 'There's always a "but", isn't there? At least where you and I are concerned.' He gave a gesture of surrender. 'All those years of being your slave, I never once felt I was not your equal, Ligea. I knew we were equals. I knew I was anyone's equal, for all that I wore a slave collar. I thought one day it would be possible you'd come to love me as I loved you. I thought it could happen, even when you talked of mere friendship. Until these last few weeks. Then I began to realise I wasn't your equal. That I never will be. That you are not for me.' He took up my left hand. The cabochon, quiescent, was just a rounded gem in my palm. He touched it with a finger. 'Because of this. I don't fear you, Ligea, but part of me is in awe of you.'

He raised his eyes to my face. T should be devastated – all those years of loving you wasted because you are unobtainable after all.' ¦. ‹

'But?'

'But I find I'm just resigned. That desperate passion: it is part of my past. I shall always love you,

but not quite the same way. Not any more. You are Magor and you are not for me. I can go forward now. You suggested once I go to Altan, that I help free it from Tyrans, do you remember? I thought the idea ridiculous. Now I'm not so sure. I have become a soldier and find I have some talent for the life. I have found I can lead men, and do it well. So, I shall go back to Altan and try my luck.'

I grinned at him, my depression lifting. 'I'm glad. So very glad. Although I shall miss you more than I can possibly say.'

He returned the grin, but our mutual mood of complacent self-congratulation was short-lived. We had been sitting side by side on the pallet but a sudden heave underneath us sent us both sprawling.

'What the -?' Brand began, but words failed him as he struggled up. We were in the middle of a softly padded pallet the size of a small room. The tent was gone. In its place was a large hall containing a fireplace, complete with a fire, and a table cluttered with objects as diverse as a loaf of bread and a weathervane. Beyond the table, a startled bird ruffled its black feathers and tried to maintain its perch on a pump handle. There was no pump to go with it.

I began to laugh.

'Vortex take it, woman,' Brand growled. 'It's not funny – this damn land will be the death of me! One day my heart will simply not survive the arrival of one of these mirages!'

I continued to giggle helplessly.

'You'd better give some thought to what your Stalwart friends are going to think about this,' he said sourly.

I stifled my laughter. T imagine they will get a shock. Never mind, I shall- go outside and ward the

place; then they won't be able to disturb us.' I picked up my sword and, still chuckling, looked around for a door. Fortunately, there was one.

Favonius arrived before I had finished, and other legionnaires began to gather as well, just to stare at the building, until he sent them on their way with shouted orders. When they had gone, he waved an agitated hand at the structure behind me. 'What is this? Where did it come from? Why can't we enter?'

'This world doesn't work the same way as Tyrans, Favo.'

'Did you do this?'

I stared at him in unfeigned surprise. 'Come now, Favo, when have I ever been able to conjure a building out of nothing?' What had prompted him to say that? I stirred uneasily, and remembered their orders. Kill all women with gemstones in the middle of their hands. That had come from Bator Korbus and Rathrox, of course, with their memories of the early invasions and the Magoroth victories.