Soon he would have to leave for Morven. He would have to escort Lady Asea on her mission to talk with Lord Ilmarec. His role was pre-ordained and subordinate. Although Asea had no formal military rank, he would be serving her. She was of the First, and enjoyed the confidence of both Queen Arielle and the General. She knew Ilmarec of old, so she was a far more suitable emissary than he.
He turned and stalked down through another line of tents, where the humans sat round the camp fires and talked. Whole families had gathered there; mothers holding children, fathers telling stories. Sardec felt something like envy. He knew he should despise the humans for their weakness, for their constant breeding, for their lack of self-control, but he could not help but wonder what it would be like to part of one of those families.
Among Terrarchs children were rare. Sometimes they came decades, even centuries apart, often they never came at all. There was often a greater gap in age than there was between those human children and their parents or even grandparents. The relationships he had with all his relatives, even those he loved and admired like his father, were cool and distant.
Had he missed something growing up? Servants and tutors had raised him, and many of those had been humans, forbidden to get close to him, although he could see now what he had never allowed himself to see before, that many of them had cared for him in ways that they were not allowed to express. He told himself that it was absurd that he should care about that or the feelings he had never shared with his ayahs and teachers, but he found that he did.
He watched a man and a woman stride off into the dark arm in arm, and he knew what they were about. It drove his thoughts to another darker turn, to the events of Solace night when he had slept with that human girl. It had been the most erotically charged moment of his life, a shameful pleasure that he had thought he would enjoy again, but had not, for shortly thereafter he had been dispatched to Deep Achenar, and had lost his hand. The next few months had been spent recuperating from his wounds, listlessly enduring spells and surgery and drugs that dulled his senses and his appetites. Now he found his mind turning to thoughts of sex again, and of other things, he did not want to discuss with his fellow officers.
He knew there were others who had done such things, who sated their lusts, but it seemed to him to be a very coarse thing, and not something to be talked about. To be honest he had not seen another human wench who had moved him the way the first one had. Perhaps it was the wound, or perhaps it was the circumstances on that fatal night had been particularly unfortunate.
Just as these thoughts crossed his mind, he caught sight of a strangely familiar face. It was so odd that he had to look again to be certain that he was correct and he was disturbed to discover that he was. It was the human girl, Rena, sitting near a fire with two other women, and two men. They seemed to be arguing about something, and Sardec would have walked past had not one of the men lunged at the girl, half-playfully, half angrily, seemingly determined to have his way by force. It was the sort of thing that Sardec supposed must happen often in the camp. Certainly none of the passers-by seemed disposed to interfere, but it struck him as wrong so he strode over and said:
“What is going on here?” The man looked up angrily, about to utter a curse until he noticed who and what Sardec was. His face went calm and cold for he feared the whipping that Sardec could order if not shown the correct degree of respect.
“Nothing, sir. Just having a bit of fun.” Sardec turned to the girl. She looked astonished, for she had obviously just recognised him. Sardec found himself stirred by her lush beauty as he had been before.
“Is that true?” he asked.
“I am sure Jamis meant no harm, sir.” She sounded torn between telling the truth and getting the man into very painful trouble.
“A word with you, girl.”
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“In private.”
The others took the hint and moved away. They look relieved to be going. Rena looked nervous. Now that they were alone Sardec found that he did not quite know what he was going to say.
“I did not think I would see you again,” he said. “You did not seem like one of the girls who follows the army.”
Her eyes locked on his quite boldly. He held her gaze.
“I was not happy at Ma Horne’s, after the army left. It was not so busy and the men were not so…interesting. And there was someone with the army that I was fond of although we were together but for a little time.”
Sardec has not realised he had made such a deep impression on the girl. He was astonished to find he was even a little touched. “I am pleased to see you.”
She looked as if she did not know whether she wanted to laugh or to cry. “I am glad someone is,” she said. Her words seemed odd to him, but he had not much experience of these situations.
“Do you have a place to sleep?” he asked.
“We came with a merchant caravan out of Redtower. We have only just arrived. That is what we were discussing with those soldiers. My friends and I wanted a place to stay. We were talking about it, when you arrived.”
It was quite common for some of the officers to keep human women. It would not be difficult for him to arrange a place for her to stay if he wanted. The question was whether he wanted to. Did he need this complication to his life? There was not much left to be ashamed of. His younger fellows knew what had happened on Solstice and seemed even to respect him more for it. The trip to Deep Achenar and his wound had gained him a lot of prestige and his defence of the fort and reception by Lord Azaar still more. He doubted a thing like this would hurt his reputation and he did not care.
Something had happened to him at Deep Achenar. He raised the hook to look at it. He had almost died in that hell-pit. He might well die during the course of this war. Why should he care about appearances? Why should he not have what he wanted, if he was willing to pay the price? He wanted this girl and he found he even sympathised with her a little.
“I will arrange it,” he said. He spoke it as a Terrarch should to a human, peremptorily, with every expectation of getting no objections, then he saw she too was looking at his hook. It struck him that perhaps she felt revulsion towards it, the way he sometimes did, and he realised that he did not want her there if she could only look on him with horror so he added; “If you wish.”
She raised her hand to her mouth and looked at him. He wondered if she had read his own feelings on his face. “My friends, sir. They have no place to go.”
“I will see to it that they are looked after as well.” And he would. He had come to a decision. Even if the girl could not stand the sight of his hand, he would see to it. He would do it because he wanted to, and it pleased him to do so.
“I will go with you, sir,” she said. There was trust in her voice. That touched Sardec too.
“Is something bothering you, Master Rik,” said Karim. He paused to look around. They were in the Terrarch part of the camp, and in the distance, he could see Rena and her two friends walking along in the company of none other than Lieutenant Sardec.
“No,” Rik lied. He might have bloody well guessed. What had he expected? It had not taken her long to find her Terrarch lover had it. He did not know why he had expected better. Sardec was an officer. He was rich. It did not matter to her that he would use her and discard her once he was fed up of her. She could not see past the glitter of his noble title. She deserved what was going to happen to her, and he was glad.
Only why did it have to be Sardec? He could have accepted any of the other officers, but not him. Sardec had made his life miserable from the get-go. Sardec hated him for being who he was. She must know that too. It was as if she had deliberately chosen this to annoy him.