Isak could feel Eolis, his shield and helm off to one side, drawing him to them. He kept a wary distance from Ostia. 'Who in the name of the Gods are you?' he asked.
'Not in the name of the Gods.' She smiled hungrily, looking around at the corpses, and Isak saw elongated teeth behind quivering lips. She tugged her shawl over her head with a gloved hand. 'Do you not recognise me?' There was a tenderness in her voice that gave him pause; it reminded him of Xeliath.
'Should I know you?' he asked again, but as he said it, Isak felt a quiver of recognition. Not who, but what. She was fair-skinned, with dark hair, but with her wide face and small features she was clearly not Farlan.
The teeth, and the dark patch of skin that had blossomed on her cheek, burnt by the touch of sunlight, he realised. Finally, a name
came.
'Ah, I see it in your face,' she said. 'My name is Zhia Vukotic – but you do not know my face. I had wondered, but no matter.'
'Why did you kill your men?'
'If you can guess what I am, then you surely know I need no reason to kill, even by your standards.' She gave a mocking laugh. 'Yes, boy, I know that's not what you meant. I killed them because they would have proved an inconvenience; they were loyal to the Circle.'
'And you're not? I don't understand.'
'Evidently. Can you guess who they are? Or are you really so dim-witted? Then I should put you out of your misery now.'
'They- I've never seen anyone like them before.'
Then I will explain. Your man has just killed the Queen of the Fysthrall. This is the Age of Fulfilment and the banished have returned. They have changed so much. Once they were so wonderful
…' Her voice trailed off, then she shrugged. 'Now is not the time. The White Circle is their cause, not mine.'
'So why are you involved? Because they were once your allies?'
'Nostalgia? Hah.' Her laughter echoed with the weight of years. The memory of the island palace stirred in Isak's mind. Zhia had the same weary, timeless quality about her. He forced down the memory of Bahl's death. That was for later; he could not let himself grieve yet.
'I leave the obsession with the past to my brother. In any case, they are far from what we once knew. They had no idea who I was, other than that I possessed more skill and knowledge than any other of the Circle. The temptation of a Skull was easily enough for me to play the part of a quiet and faithful servant. I didn't expect taking it to be quite so easy.'
That was the only reason you were with them?'
'You're showing your innocence now. With an eternity ahead of me, playing at politics keeps me busy even if it comes to nothing.' Zhia shrugged again, taking care not to dislodge her shawl and expose herself to the sun's touch. 'If it serves a future purpose, all the better.'
'Future purpose?'
Her garrulousness was making Isak suspicious. They were the very definition of foes: Isak was blessed even beyond most Chosen; Zhia with her brothers and sister, was cursed above all others.
Time is of the essence for Narkang's king. I suggest you find a way to join him.' She blinked, then curled her lip with impatience as Isak still didn't appear to understand. 'Look, boy: the Fysthrall are far more your enemies than I. They have one ambition, to take revenge on the Gods who banished them. Understandably, thanks to the Saviour prophecies, they see you as a threat to these plans – and it appears you feature in their own prophecies. You are – or have – the key to ending their exile.'
'So they are who the Saviour's supposed to fight?' Isak wasn't sure he wanted a true answer to that. Like most, he had assumed that there was some cataclysm to come, so the creeping worry of disaster would be lurking on the horizon until it actually happened.
They believe so, but they are intellectually insular. I suggest you would be better off having a care of your own shadow more than you do the Fysthrall. Your friend the king is the man to ask about the Saviour – he has written some excellent essays on the subject. The man is obsessed with history – and making his own mark upon it.
Now, return to your friends.'
Isak sensed her disappointment with him, but he couldn't work out whether it was because he wasn't all that she'd expected, or because Siulents had brought back old and unhappy memories.
'So what's your part in this now?' he asked offhandedly.
'Don't banter with me, boy, it's beyond you.'
'You said their cause was not yours,' he explained hurriedly. He was more than aware of the angry prickle of magic surrounding her. 'What do you want – it's obviously not my death.'
'Nothing you can give me, but it should be easy enough to guess, if you have any imagination. Enough of this. Go.'
He didn't wait to be told again. His friends needed him. Isak saw the main arena gate lying flat as Emin had promised, and bodies
– Kingsguard, mercenaries, ordinary people, both noble and peasant
– lying everywhere. He couldn't see Vesna's distinctive armour anywhere among the fallen, so presumably he had made it through.
A group of horses stood tethered to a rail at the back of the public stand, nominally guarded by a mercenary who'd walked out to a rise in the ground to see what he could of the fighting. The unnatural vigour of his ascension was still running through Isak's limbs, and his aim was true as he threw Eolis thirty yards to impale the man. Like a hunting dog, Mihn padded away to retrieve the sword. As he returned, Isak saw the streaking of tears on his face.
'Thank you,' he said as Mihn handed him Eolis. He caught Mihn by the shoulder and held him there, forcing Mihn to look him straight in the eye, though the man could hardly bear to lift his head.
'I am your bondsman,' he said, quietly. 'It was my duty.'
That's not what I meant,' Isak said. 'I know you don't fear death, as a sensible man should – and dying bravely would have been easy there, even though I saw how fast you were: you're as good a swordsman as I've ever seen. That must make it hurt all the more.'
'I needed Arugin. Dying bravely wouldn't erase my shame. Your cause is my life as much as my penitence.'
It was hard to argue with him, but there were things to be done. Isak made a mental promise that he would continue this later and then turned his horse towards the city. 'Come on, we need to get to the baths. The man who builds one tunnel builds many. I can't see Emin's reinforcements, so this could get desperate, and I don't intend to watch from the sidelines.'
CHAPTER 35
'Look alive, they're coming again.'
Tired eyes and bloody faces lifted automatically at Vesna's voice. The black knight's reassuring presence meant they nodded grimly and tightened their grip on their weapons. The walls were manned by Kingsguard, bolstered by watchmen and palace servants, but without a real-life hero in their midst they might well have been broken by the hardened troops attacking. They murmured encouragement to each other and straightened their backs.
'Have you left some for me then?' bellowed Isak with forced 'humour. Vesna whirled around, relief washing over his features as he hurried down from the battlements. He sheathed his sword and took Isak's arm.
'Gods, you're alive,' he said, thankfully. 'When they said you'd been dragged from the royal box I thought you didn't stand a chance. I was going to go back, but Tila – and Mihn – said-'
Isak held up a hand to stop him. 'Enough, Mihn was right. He'd not have got past the guards with company. How are we doing here?' Isak waved to the walls as shouts came from the other side.