Hari grasped Shai's shoulders. Years ago, Hari had grabbed him so, stared into his eyes, and scolded him: Stand up for yourself, Shai. Speak up, Shai!
Best of brothers!
But now he looked leached at the edges, as if sickness had drained his vitality.
'Aren't I? I can't see into your heart to know what you really think of me. What if you scorn me, and I would never know?'
'I would tell you what I think.'
'People say so, but they never do.' Hari laughed mockingly. 'People say what they think you want to hear. But now, their hearts and thoughts are laid bare to me, and I can see what's true. All their pain and greed and rage and selfish lust cuts me, just as it cuts them. I can't rest for thinking of all the horrible things I've seen in people's hearts. And yet I can't look away. I want their secrets and their shame. Then I don't have to think about my own.'
'Stop it!'
'Why are you hidden from me, Shai? No one else is, except the other cloaks. And you're not a cloak.'
Shai clasped his hands. 'I'm just your brother, Hari. We'll go home together. It's what we're meant to do.'
Hari broke free and leaped to his feet, pacing to the entrance and back again. 'I can't go home! Night will hunt me down, or Lord Radas will. If I don't obey them, they hurt me. And since I can't die, then I just suffer and it hurts so badly. We've got to get you out of here. If they know I have you, they'll force me to betray you. And I'll do it, because I'm a useless selfish coward. I've always been one. What do you think I've been running from all my life?'
Voices from outside startled them both. Shai began to stand, but Hari grabbed his arm and shoved him down on one of the rugs, gesturing for him to lie flat. He rolled Shai up inside the rug. From within the stifling confines, Shai heard Hari plop down on the couch as several people entered.
'Aren't you ready to go yet?' demanded a coarse voice bleeding with raw rage. 'You're such a cursed lazy ass, Hari.'
'Yordenas, control yourself.' The other voice was also male, as sharp as poison. 'Harishil, I expected you to be ready to depart. There are slaves who can collect these furnishings.'
'I thought I was going back to Walshow with the camp followers to make sure they disperse,' said Hari, his voice more like a sullen lad's than a grown man's. 'And then afterward set up as commander over the northern region based in High Haldia with Captain Arras as my administrator. That's what you promised me.'
'That's what Night promised you,' sneered the one called
Yordenas. 'Because she favors your sorry, rotten hide despite you running the second army into disaster at Olossi.'
'Yordenas!'
'My apologies, my lord.' The cringing tone sounded real enough, as slimy as scummed water. 'I would have done better, had I been given the chance. I was a reeve. Marshal of a reeve hall. I know how to command.'
'You are to be given your chance now, Yordenas. As for you, Harishil, may I remind you that promises are not coin, they are contingencies. Our plans have changed. We've pulled most of the forces out of the far north and Haldia in order to quickly subdue Nessumara and the delta region. Surely you understand that under the circumstances, given your complete failure to direct the southern expedition against Olossi, you will have to prove yourself to us before we can possibly allow you a new command.'
The other man sniggered.
'Furthermore, there is the matter of the woman wearing Death's cloak, the one called Marit. You may not have betrayed us, precisely, but we can't be sure you are reliable. You may have mixed loyalties. I would be rid of you if it were up to me. Yet Night has insisted you be given a second chance. Therefore, I have a special assignment for you.'
'I should have had it,' groused the one called Yordenas. 'I wanted to go.'
'I thought you wanted to command an army,' said Hari. 'But if you can't make up your mind, you're welcome to take my new assignment, whatever it is.'
'Don't be hasty, Harishil,' said the poisonous voice.
'What is it you want, Lord Radas?'
'Neh, what is it you want? Do you want your staff?'
Felt even through the muffling layers of thick carpet, a shift of tension tightened the air like the taste of a coming storm. Weight pressed on Shai's left hip as one of the men rested his foot heavily there.
'Maybe I do,' mumbled Hari. 'Maybe I- don't care. Maybe I don't want to judge people, as you do.'
The poisonous voice grew silkier, killing with a sweeter flavor. 'You know Night wishes to interview all the gods-touched, but we're seeking in particular an outlander Bevard captured not far west of here, a young man who was veiled to his sight. He should have reached the army by now.'
'He'll talk when I get my hands on him!' Yordenas had a mean edge to his voice that Shai imagined was accompanied by a grin, rather as Shai's awful brother Girish had giggled when he contemplated the nasty things he could do to helpless children.
'Sure he'll talk,' drawled Hari, 'after one whiff of your foul breath, Yordenas. What's to say the cursed outlander isn't dead already? Or fled? Or that Bevard wasn't so drunk that he mistook his vomit for a man?'
The pressure of the foot eased abruptly. The sounds of a scuffle ended with Yordenas's yelp.
'Harishil, you do not amuse me,' said Lord Radas. 'That such an outlander exists I do not doubt, nor should you. Now and again a rare individual is gods-touched, able to see ghosts. Such individuals are veiled to the sight of Guardians. Therefore dangerous. Able to commit crimes and lie about it.'
The dust in the carpet made Shai's eyes itch, or perhaps it was the memory of ghosts that stung.
'Dangerous to justice,' Hari asked, 'or merely dangerous because we can't bully them by ripping out their hearts and fears and shames?'
'Your gods-rotted outlander ass is just waiting to get itself whipped, isn't it?' said Yordenas.
'You're one who loves to bully, aren't you, Yordenas?'
'Enough!' The voice of Lord Radas cut deep. The weight of the foot returned, pinching Shai's skin, but he sucked in the pain and did not move. 'As it happens, Bevard encountered another such outlander, at Westcott. A man veiled to his sight. Do you suppose all outlanders can see ghosts and are therefore veiled, Harishil?'
'I wouldn't know. I'm not "all outlanders."'
'Be respectful, you ass.'
'Quiet, Yordenas. Harishil, I want you to track down this outlander captain Bevard encountered at Westcott. We have reason to believe he may be related to, or the same man as, the one who captained Olossi's militia to victory.'
'What about Yordenas and Bevard? What will they be doing?'
'Their duties are not yours to inquire after, but as it happens, I am willing to tell you so you can see what rewards you can expect if you succeed. Bevard will accompany the camp followers to Walshow and afterward take temporary command of the northern region and assizes. He'll be scouting Haldia for signs of
the two cloaks who ran from us — obviously we can't trust you with that task given your relationship with the woman called Marit. Yordenas will take part in the attack on Nessumara, to improve his command skills.'
'I'd rather go to Walshow,' said Hari.
Yordenas snorted. 'I'm surprised they're letting you go off on your own at all. They don't trust you, Hari. Nor should they, you being a cursed outlander and all.'
'Then why don't they release me?' retorted Hari in a voice Shai would once have heard as bold and forthright and now recognized as angry with reckless despair.
The pressure of the foot lifted. Shai let out breath, sucked in, and almost choked on a lungful of dust and a stray wisp of straw that caught in his throat.
T can call a soldier in,' said Lord Radas as calmly as if he were suggesting a tray of tea, 'and have him stick his sword in your guts. Once. Twice. A third time.'