“Then how can Xaphista get to her?” Tarja asked. He didn’t have the benefit of a pagan education. He was floundering with all this talk of gods.
“Xaphista gains his strength from his believers and he’s got millions of them. That’s why the Primal gods fear him.”
“But she’s half-Harshini, isn’t she?” Damin pointed out. “Why didn’t she just call on her power and escape herself?”
“The priests have blocked her power. They’re using some sort of collar I’ve never seen before. If she tries to touch the source of her power it burns. If she manages to get past that, the pain is intolerable. Not even the demons can reach her.”
Tarja watched Brak, wondering how much of what he told them was conjecture and how much he knew to be fact.
“So what is Xaphista doing to her?” Adrina wondered aloud.
“I doubt if he’s hurting her,” Brak shrugged. “If anything he’ll be trying to coax her to follow him. He doesn’t need to kill R’shiel to remove the threat. He just needs her on his side.”
“So if she defies him, he’ll kill her and if she doesn’t, you’ll kill her anyway,” Tarja concluded bleakly.
Brak didn’t answer; he didn’t have to.
“Where is she, Brak?”
“With the Defenders camped less than two leagues from here. Terbolt is escorting her back to Karien.”
The stunned silence lasted only a moment.
“We have to rescue her,” Almodavar announced.
“How?” Tarja demanded.
“We’ll think of something,” Damin said, with a nod to his captain. “You’re surely not suggesting that we leave her there?”
“Why not? She’s as safe there as anywhere. I’m not going to risk the life of every man here, just so that the moment we get her back Brak can kill her.”
The Harshini stared at him with unreadable black eyes.
“Brakandaran would never...” Damin began, then saw the look on the Harshini’s face. “Gods! You can’t be serious!”
Adrina glanced around at the men angrily. “This is insane! You can’t leave her there. You can’t let them take her back to Karien. They would destroy her, and trust me, I know what I’m talking about! You have to rescue her!”
“It won’t be easy,” Ghari warned. “And if she has turned to Xaphista, she may not want to be rescued.”
“Bollocks!” the Fardohnyan princess spat angrily. “You don’t know what’s happened to her. You have to give her a chance.”
Tarja nodded in agreement. “Nobody wants to get her back more than I, Adrina, but she’s being held in the middle of a thousand Defenders.”
“But we have the Harshini on our side,” Damin pointed out. “We could be in and out before anyone knew about it. That’s assuming you’ll help us, Brak.”
“I’ll help you as much as I can, but you must understand that I can’t do anything for R’shiel. She has to make her own decisions.” He turned to Dace. “I’m allowed to do that much aren’t I, Divine One?”
Dace nodded miserably. “I suppose.”
“And once we have rescued the demon child?” Ghari asked. “You forget the Karien force approaching from the north. Unless Lord Brakandaran can magically transport us away from here, we’ll have little hope of escape. Cratyn is angry enough to hunt down his wife. I imagine losing the demon child will do nothing to improve his temper.”
“We need something to distract him,” Damin agreed.
“That’s easy,” Adrina said. “I’ll surrender.”
“No!” Damin cried.
“What else will turn him back, Damin? He seeks his wife. He doesn’t know that the Defenders approach, or that they have the demon child. If you can get R’shiel out of the Defenders’ camp, Terbolt will be furious certainly, but the Defenders will not pursue you with the same dedication that Cratyn will. With Brak’s help you can get clear. If Cratyn joins the hunt, nothing will deter him.”
Tarja could see the logic in her plan, but remained silent, as did the others. This was something they needed to decide between themselves. He wondered if Damin was beginning to realise just how hard he would find it to let Adrina go.
“I can’t let you do it, Adrina. If Cratyn suspects for a minute —”
“I’m prepared to take that risk, Damin.”
“Well, I’m not. You’re not going back to him and that’s final. We haven’t come this far to quit now.” He turned to Tarja, his face chiselled in determination. “We’ll get R’shiel back, Tarja, then we’ll run like hell. We’ll split our forces and scatter them so wide, Cratyn and Terbolt won’t even begin to know where to look. Brak can conceal us and —”
“And his priests will think I’ve lit a beacon for them,” Brak warned.
“But you’re shielding us now. Can’t they feel it?”
“I’m helping,” Dace admitted.
“Then you can help us when we flee.”
The God of Thieves shook his head. “That would be interfering. If you take R’shiel and try to stop what’s happening to her, and Zegarnald catches me helping you...” Dace left the sentence hanging ominously.
The gods could not destroy each other, Tarja knew that much, but he wondered what one god could do to another that would cause Dacendaran such concern. He had a feeling he didn’t really want to know.
Damin thought for a moment then shrugged. “What the hell. I wasn’t planning to live forever anyway. What say we go and rescue the demon child anyway, and to hell with the risk?”
“You’re mad!” Adrina declared, but she didn’t offer any further protest, or repeat her offer to return to her husband.
One by one the others nodded their agreement, including Brak, until Damin turned to Tarja questioningly.
“Well?”
Tarja looked up and met Brak’s unwavering, alien eyes. He wanted to rescue R’shiel more than he wanted to keep breathing, but he could not shake the feeling that saving her from her current predicament might be placing her in even more danger.
“Let’s do it,” he agreed, sounding far more certain than he felt.
It was too late by the time they finished their discussion to take any action that night, so they planned their rescue attempt for the following evening. The delay made Tarja nervous. The Kariens were already too close for comfort and the wait served only to bring them closer.
The Defenders had stopped for the night so Damin sent out scouts to spy out the lay of their camp as it was more than likely the camp would be set up in the same way each evening. Two Hythrun Raiders and two Defenders, hand-picked by Tarja for both their experience and their common sense, were despatched to learn as much as they could before sunrise – specifically, where the occupants of the coach were camped. Tarja didn’t need a spy to tell him they would be in the centre of the camp, but it would simplify things considerably if he knew exactly which tent and the disposition of the guards.
He spent the rest of the night organising the Defenders. Although they travelled in civilian clothing, every man had his uniform safely tucked away in his saddlebags. Sneaking into the Defender camp would be impossible, so Tarja planned to march through it openly. With luck, he could simply walk up to R’shiel’s tent, order her brought out, and then escort her away without a question being asked.
If she was alone.
If the guards on the tent did not recognise him.
If the guards hadn’t been given any orders to the contrary.
If she was guarded by Defenders, rather than Karien priests.