'I low did you get stuck with a spear, you old bastard?' Vesna mut-tered. 'You were in the thick of it, roaring like Tsatach himself. If you'd been struck as we charged, you wouldn't have made it this far.' He looked up and around. The point where the stream met the river, marked by a row of willows, was only fifty yards away. The soldiers waiting here had been so tightly packed one man had nearly killed his fellow soldier with his backswing.
The sergeant's eyes fluttered for a moment, then a semblance of strength returned to his face. 'Stabbed me,' Tael whispered. 'Bastard was on the floor an' I was busy with 'is mate. Went right under m'sword
– never even saw 'im till I fell on 'im.'
Vesna put a hand on Tael's shoulder, that familiar, caustic mix of regret, shame and relief churning in his gut. He'd had a lifetime of death, and he knew well the importance of a familiar face, a friendly touch and a voice talking, however inanely. He squeezed Tael's hand, and was rewarded with some pressure in return. The sergeant's words from earlier came treacherously back to him: I'm looking forrard to bouncing a rabble oflittle'uns on m'knee before I go. What to say to the man now? This wasn't their war, they had no place here. In a Land where life was short and brutal, Vesna had asked good men to die in a place that meant nothing to them – all because a young man who barely understood the blessings he had been given had ordered them to, and because he had sworn an oath to follow that young man, no matter whatever foolish fancy came into Isak's head.
'No, that's not fair on him,' Vesna said to himself. 'He can't be blamed.'
'Fair?' echoed Tael distantly. 'What's fair? Fate's a cruel mistress – nothing fair in all this.' He gave a soft wheeze and pawed at the ground as he tried in vain to adjust his position. Vesna helped him shift a little so he was less uncomfortable.
'Thanks,' Tael murmured once the pain had subsided a little. 'Don't want m'last hours to be watching vultures above.'
'Has it done that much damage?'
Tael grimaced in reply. 'Oh Gods, yes. I've been stuck before; this one's got me.' Another wheeze, then he scowled. 'Heard some bugger once say there was no better death than surrounded by your enemies. I wouldn't bother wi'it, was I you. I'm lying on the one as got me, and I can't say it matters much.' He twisted his head in a vain effort to look at the man he'd killed.
'Be still,' Vesna cautioned.
'Or what?' he said bitterly. 'I might die? Bit late for the warning now.' Despite his words, Tael gave up his efforts and went limp, defeated by the pain. 'It's a good knife, that one. Made by one of the best smiths in Lomin. Think I've had m'last use of it now, so you're welcome to it.'
Vesna nodded bis thanks and jerked the dagger from the dead man's neck. Tael was right, it was a good knife – the tool of an experienced woodsman rather than a soldier's last resort, nicely balanced with a slight forward curve. He wiped it on the dead soldier and pushed it into his belt, next to the finely finished dagger given to him by an uncle.
'I'm sorry,' Vesna blurted out suddenly.
'For what?'
The confusion in Tael's voice increased the weight of guilt bearing down on Count Vesna. 'For…' His voice tailed off and he gestured down at the jagged stub embedded in Tael's belly, then swept his hand around to encompass the entire battlefield. He could see a raven hop¬ping from one body to the next, hardly bothering to keep clear of those men still walking among the dead. There were enough bodies on which to feast that, when disturbed, the carrion birds moved on with little more than a harsh caw and a desultory flap of a lazy wing.
'The war's your fault?' Tael asked. 'No? Well, shut up then and keep me company. I know you lot keep brandy for after battle.'
Vesna did as he was told and sat irreverently on the corpse. He pulled out his hunting flask, took a swallow and handed it to Tael. It was expensive liquor, strong enough to scald the back of the throat. Vesna didn't much care for brandy, but anyone who'd smelled the shit and mud and spilled guts of a battlefield understood its use.
'I'm not sure I can keep doing this,' Vesna said as he stared off towards the dull horizon. 'It steals a part of me every time I go into battle. There's less of me every time – one day either I won't come back, or it'll be just my body that does. How do I ask a girl to marry someone who's fading away, a twilight man?'
'What sort o' girl is she?'
'Pure,' Vesna replied after a moment's hesitation. Gods, we're sitting here talking about my problems? Is that selfishness or mercy? 'She's young and beautiful, but what amazes me most is how pure she is. She has as much faith in the Gods as she did when she was a child. She was brought up to play the great game as well as any, yet I don't see her touched by it. I don't want her to be sullied by the man I am and the things I've done.' He spat into the muddy puddle by his boot. 'Hah, Iook at me. This sounds like some pathetic deathbed confession.'
'Don't stop,' rumbled Tael. The words were an effort now as pain and blood loss took its toll. 'I'll not be confessing m'sins here. Don't regret what I done, men 1 killed. Ain't afraid o' dying; ain't running from what I done, II Lord Death don't like some of it, well, he can look me in the eye and tell me so 'imself.'
Vesna gripped Tael's hand, holding hard for the few moments of the sergeant's life remaining to him. 'I wish I could be proud too,' Vesna said. It didn't matter what he said, just that he keep going as Tael faded.
He poured another slug of brandy down Tael's throat. 'Not all the men I've killed have been downed in battle. Some were killed in duels; some I simply murdered. Somehow it doesn't matter that I was ordered to – I still did it. When my judgment comes, if it's true that Death weighs the good against the bad on his golden scales, orders won't matter. When a man realises that, how can he think of marry¬ing so pure a girl?'
'Does she know?'
'Everything? Gods no. Used to be because they were state secrets – things that could do only harm if they ever came to light, and best lost, even after we've gone – but now… Now it's because I fear showing her that part of me; the part that took advantage of drunken wives when I was told to, poisoned food and brought about hunting accidents. There's no good in what I've done there, only necessity.'
'She won't see that?'
'I don't know what she'll see.' Vesna hung his head. 'But if it disgusts me, how could she feel any different?'
'Don't know all you did, but-' Tael paused to catch his breath.
Vesna almost told the sergeant to save his strength before wonder¬ing what he would be saving it for – a handful more heartbeats? Was that worth giving up on life early?
'Bet lots o' men like me would thank you,' Tael wheezed, wincing as he fought for each word. 'Whatever you did, bet it gave 'em time t'see their children grow. Give yourself the same time.'
Vesna felt his chest tighten in sympathy, breathing becoming a sudden effort, but he couldn't bring himself to leave the sergeant, an ageing forester who had come here with nothing to gain and found only a chunk of steel, driven into his gut, taking everything he had left. The far-off voices of his soldiers washed over him as he felt Tael's life slipping through his grasp. Only the image of Tila's smile remained clear in his mind; the bite of the brandy at the back of his throat and the cold smell of the blood and mud faded into the background as Vesna sat staring at the body in his arms, waiting for answers that failed to come.
CHAPTER 15
Through the haze of an ancient memory she saw his face again, fixed on some distant trouble, while she slept. His stern beauty was frighten-ing, almost alien when not smoothed into a smile. She looked down at the hand he was propping himself up on the bed with, so close to her bare belly that she could feel the tiny glow of heat radiating from his skin.