Shien laughed wolfishly. "Aye, so do we all think. But that is the kind of lord Hetharu is, and so he dealt with you once when you trifled with him… so he dealt with his own lord and father; and now do you propose that if I refuse your mad scheme you will throw yourself on his mercy again? You do not learn readily, Man."
A chill came on him, remembering, but he shook his head nevertheless. "Then you also know him well enough to know that you will never profit by serving him. Take my way, lord of Sotharrn, and have what you want-or have nothing. I learn too readily to hand any khalthe only thing that makes my life valuable."
Shien's white brows knit into a frown. For a moment thoughts passed visibly through his eyes, none of them good to behold. "You assume that you know how to deal with us, and how I must deal with the other lords. You do not know us, Man."
"I know that I am dead when you have what you want."
Shien's frown bent slowly into a smile. "Ah, Man, you are too unsubtle. One does not accuse his possible benefactor of lying. I might even have kept my word."
"No," he said, though the doubt was planted in him.
"Think of it, tomorrow, when we deliver you to Hetharu."
And Shien rose then and settled some distance away. Vanye turned his head to stare at him, but Shien poured himself a cup from his flask and sat with his face averted, drinking delicately.
Beyond him sat the others, halflings aping khal,with bleached hair and coarse arrogance, and a hate for Men that was the greater because of their own human blood.
Shien turned his head and smiled at him thinly, lifting the cup in mockery.
'Tomorrow," Shien promised him.
They forded two shallow rivers, one at dawn and one at noon. Vanye reckoned well now where they were, nearing the Gate that stood in Azeroth. He grew afraid, as it was impossible not to fear contemplating that power, which could drink in substance and ravel it.
But no sign of the Gate was yet visible, not in the long ride they made that afternoon. There were few rests; Shien had promised that they would come to Hetharu's camp in this day and seemed determined on it if it exhausted them. Vanye said nothing to Shien as the distance wore away under the horses' hooves. Shien had nothing more to say to him, save now and again to gaze at him brooding speculation. He reckoned again what his chances were if he yielded on the Shiua lord's terms, and averted his face from temptation.
They did not stop at dusk, even to rest, and the night turned bitterly cold. He asked them for a cloak, but they refused it, though the guard who had lent it before would not wear it himself; they took pleasure in refusing. After that he bowed his head, trying to ignore them. They taunted him with threats which this time Shien did not silence, but he said nothing, caring nothing for them.
Then there appeared a glow on the horizon .. . cold, like the moon; but the moon was aloft, and the light was far brighter.
The Gate of Azeroth, that Men called the Fires.
He lifted his face, staring at that terrible presence, seeing now where they were bound, for nearer at hand were the dimmer red lights of woodfires, and ungainly shapes: tents and shelters.
They passed sentries who sat their posts concealed in shelters of grass; and rode past picket lines, where horses stood… few in proportion to the vast sprawl of the Shiua camp… the camp of a nation spread over the vast plains under the Gate; of more than a nation: of the remnant of a world.
And it aimed at the heart of Shathan.
Morgaine and I have done this thing,he could not forbear thinking. My doing as much as hers. Heaven forgive us.
They passed the fringes of the camp. Suddenly Shien put the company to a gallop, passing the sprawling shelters of grass and cloth which hemmed them about on all sides.
Men stared at their passage… dark shapes, smalclass="underline" true Men, of Shiuan's marshes. Vanye saw the stares and went cold as someone sent up a thin, hysterical cry.
"Herman. Hers!"
Men rushed out to bar their way, scattered from the hooves of the horses when the khalkept coming. The marshlanders knew him, and would gladly tear him limb from limb if he fell among them. The khalwhipped their horses and thundered through, reckless of human lives, and into a quieter portion of the camp, where demon-helms quickly parted and shdt a barricade of brush and sharpened stakes, and backed it with a row of barbed pikes.
The mob no longer pursued; the gate sufficed. They slowed, the horses blowing and panting in exhaustion, stretching at the reins and seeking air. They rode slowly up to a sprawling shelter, the largest in the compound.
The structure was patched, cobbled together of various bits of cloth and bundles of reeds and grass, and part of it was a tent. Light blazed within, showing through the canvas; and there was music, but not such as the arrhendimhad played. They halted there, and guards came to take the horses.
They lifted him down from the saddle. "Be careful," said Shien when one of them jerked at him. "This is a very valuable Man."
And Shien himself took him by the elbow and brought him toward the door of the tent. "You were not wise," Shien said.
He shook his head, uncertain whether he had rejected a trap that would have killed him or whether he had rejected the only hope he had. It was impossible. A khalwould scarcely keep faith with khal.That one would keep faith with a Man was not to be believed.
He blinked, suddenly thrust into the light and warmth within.
Chapter Eight
Hetharu.
Vanye stopped, with Shien at his back, steadied himself on his wounded leg; and of all in that gathering, he recognized that tall, black-clad lord. The music died away with a hiss of strings, and noble lords and ladies of Shiuan stopped what half-dead diversions they were practicing and came to slow, studied attention where they lounged on sacks and cushions within the tent, against walls of bound reeds.
Of sacks and brocade cloaks was the throne to which Hetharu settled. A cluster of halfling guards was about him, some far gone in stupor, others alert, armored and armed. A naked woman shrank into the shadows of the corner. Hetharu stared at the intrusion, blank with amazement for the instant, and then pleasure grew on his countenance… thin and shadow-eyed that face, the more startling for the human eyes which looked darkly out from what were otherwise pure qhalurfeatures. His white hair lay lank and silken on his shoulders. His black brocade was somewhat worn, the lace frayed; the ornate sword that he wore still looked serviceable. Hetharu smiled, and about him settled the miasma of all that was Shiuan, drowning and rotting at once.
"Nhi Vanye," Hetharu murmured. "And Morgaine?"
"That matter must be cared for by now," said Shien. Vanye clenched his jaw and stared through all of them, trying to use his wits; but that callous reckoning of Morgaine's life hit him suddenly with more force than he had yet felt.
Kill Hetharu? That was one of the thoughts that he had entertained over recent days; and suddenly it seemed useless, for here were thousands like him. Gain power among them? Suddenly it seemed impossible; he was a Man, and what else was here of humankind crouched naked and ashamed and weeping in the corner.
He took a step forward. Though his hands were bound, the guards were uneasy; pikes inclined marginally toward him. He stopped, sure that they would not be careless with him.
"I hear," he said to Hetharu, "that you and Roh have quarreled."
That set them back. There was an instant's silence, and Hetharu's face was whiter than usual.
"Out!" Hetharu said suddenly. "All of you who have no business here, out."
That included many: the Woman, the majority of the khalwho had disported themselves about the fringes of the gathering. One half-conscious lordling reclined at Hetharu's side, leaning against the sacks and the brocade with unfocused gray eyes and a dreaming smile that mocked all reality. A middle-aged khalurwoman remained; and a handful of lords; and all the guards, although some of them were far-departed in dreams, and knelt near Hetharu and about the other lords with their eyes distant and their hands loose on their weapons. Enough still remained who had all their wits about them. Hetharu leaned back in his makeshift throne and regarded him with old and familiar hate.
"Shien, what have you been telling this Man?"
Shien shrugged. "I have been pointing out his situation, and his possible value."
Hetharu's dark eyes swept over Shien narrowly. "Knowledge such as Roh has? Is that your meaning?"
"It is possible that he has it. He is reticent."