“I’m not running off with her,” he objected. “I’m averting a potential catastrophe.”
“You’re creating a potential catastrophe. Founders, man, think about this! How do you think the Kariens are going to react when they find out? Taking a lover might not be cause for concern in Hythria or Medalon, or even Fardohnya, for that matter, but it’s a sin in Karien and they take their sin very seriously.”
“I’m not her lover!”
“If you didn’t take her by force, then what else do you call it? I’m sure the Kariens will see it that way. They tend to be very black and white in their thinking.”
“All the more reason not to send her back to Karien. She’d be stoned if they found out.”
“A few weeks ago, that prospect wouldn’t have bothered you one whit.”
Damin didn’t look pleased at the reminder. “All right, I’ll concede that my opinion of her has... softened... somewhat.”
“Softened? That’s one way of putting it, I suppose.”
“I won’t send her back, Tarja. Even if what you say is true, the fact is we know the Overlord wants a Karien heir to the Fardohnyan throne. The rest of it is just speculation. I’ll deal with the known threat and face the rest of it if and when it happens.”
“Jenga’s not going to like this.”
“I wasn’t planning to ask his permission. I’m an ally, not a subordinate.”
“Have you told Adrina?”
“Not yet.”
“What if she objects? She might prefer to go back.”
“She’d kill herself before she agreed to return to Karien.”
“She doesn’t strike me as the suicidal type.”
“Ask her about Cratyn sometime.”
Tarja reached forward to pat Shadow’s neck. The mare was restless, no doubt picking up his apprehension. “When are you planning to leave?”
“The sooner the better. Jenga will have to act on that order soon, one way or the other. If he surrenders, this plain will be crawling with Kariens any day, and if he refuses the order you’ll be fighting Karien on one side and your own people on the other. I don’t want to get caught in the middle of it. Besides,” he added with a frown, “when we crossed into Medalon we had Brak’s help. We’re going to have to make our way home by more ordinary means. If I don’t leave now, Hablet will be in Krakandar before me.”
At the mention of Brak, Tarja’s brow furrowed with concern. Brak was supposed to be looking after R’shiel. But the Sisterhood had betrayed them. R’shiel would never have let that happen willingly.
“If you’re so damned worried about R’shiel, do something about it,” Damin said, guessing the direction of his thoughts.
“That would mean deserting my post.”
“Well, you’ve done that before,” the Warlord pointed out rather tactlessly, “so it should be easier the next time round. Anyway, if Jenga surrenders, how long do you think your head is going to stay attached to your neck, my friend? You’re responsible for the death of the Karien Envoy, remember? I’ll bet you any sum you care to name that your head on a platter was a condition of the surrender.”
“That doesn’t give me the right to abandon Jenga at the first sign of trouble.”
“Think of it as saving the world, Tarja. The demon child is the only one who can destroy Xaphista. There’s something of a moral imperative involved in going to her rescue.”
“She might already be dead.”
It pained him to admit it. With Brak watching over her and with the power she commanded, she could achieve anything. R’shiel had been so determined that Tarja was certain nothing short of death could have stood in her way.
“Somehow, I doubt it. The gods have gone to a lot of trouble to get her this far. I don’t think they’d stand by and let her be destroyed out of hand. She hasn’t done what she was destined for yet.”
The reminder did little to ease Tarja’s worry. Being assured that R’shiel lived so that she could eventually confront a god was hardly a comforting thought.
“I wish there was some way of being certain.”
“Ask Dace, he should know.”
“I recall having this discussion with you once before. You said he wouldn’t come if I called him.”
“And he probably wouldn’t,” Damin agreed. “But you don’t need to call him, he’s here. I saw him hanging around with that Karien boy the other day.”
“What’s he doing here?” Tarja asked suspiciously. He mistrusted these creatures that the pagans called gods.
“The God of Thieves, by his very nature, is bound to be up to no good, but that doesn’t necessarily mean he’s doing your cause any harm.” Damin laughed suddenly. “I wonder how that fanatical child of the Overlord is coping with the idea that his new friend is a pagan god?”
Tarja smiled in spite of himself.
“Tell you what, Tarja, let’s go back to the camp. You round up your little Karien friend and ask him where Dace is, and I’ll speak to Adrina. I promise I’ll only take her with me if she wants to come. I haven’t the time to waste dragging her to Hythria by force, at any rate. After that we’ll talk to Jenga. Who knows, if you can prove R’shiel still lives, he may even sanction your heroic dash to her rescue. I’m sure he’d like to know what really happened at the Gathering and it may stay his hand on the surrender for a time.”
“Make sure that’s all you do when you see Adrina. Speak to her.”
“You show a disturbing lack of trust in me, Captain,” Damin turned his stallion toward the camp and managed to look quite offended.
Tarja shook his head and followed him. “I thought we were going to check on the border troops?”
“They’ll keep. Besides, if Jenga surrenders, it doesn’t really make much difference how they’re placed, does it?”
Tarja could not deny the Hythrun’s logic and in truth, he would much rather find Dace and learn of R’shiel’s fate than conduct an inspection. He stared at the border thoughtfully, then kicked his horse into a canter and headed back to the camp with the Hythrun Warlord.
Chapter 50
Brak watched the scene between Joyhinia and R’shiel unfold with growing frustration.
R’shiel’s recovery from her suffering at the hands of Joyhinia and Loclon was too fragile to be tested so soon. He could almost taste her fear. To face Loclon in the body of her foster mother was testing her to the limit. One she feared; the other she loathed. It was like a nightmare come to life. It could push her over the edge. His futile efforts to reach out to her, to contact her, to somehow let her know that he was with her, brought a frown to the War God’s stern face.
“I have already explained to you, Brakandaran. She cannot see you. She cannot hear you.”
“I have to go to her.”
“And you shall,” Zegarnald promised. “In time.”
Brak turned on the god impatiently. “Why are you doing this? They’ll kill her!”
Zegarnald did not answer for a moment. He waited as the First Sister left the room and Lord Terbolt explained his plans to R’shiel, then nodded slowly.
“The Karien human speaks the truth, Brakandaran. Xaphista wants the demon child for himself. Her ability to destroy a god is quite indiscriminate. She could destroy me just as easily as Xaphista.”