They had been criminals marching in file, and he was the last of that line, the last to despoil this miserable congress of civility. The proclamation of his ugliness was smoke-stained, fly-bitten and filthy, and he felt at home in this place, barring the company he kept.
Others had joined them. From the west had come a company commanded by Captain Hallyd Bahann, and with him was a beautiful woman named Tathe Lorat and her daughter, Sheltatha Lore. Their soldiers brought tales of slaughter at a monastery and the pillaging of Abara Delack. And now, riding up from the south, another troop approached and with their sighting the squads around Narad stirred, collecting their weapons and donning their helms. At last, he heard, their captain had arrived.
There were many kinds of curiosity, Narad realized as he stood with the others and fixed his gaze on the riders. To see a face behind a name, if that name was wreathed in tales of heroism, was a clean kind of curiosity. But the face of a monster invited its own fascination, perhaps in the shock of recognition, since every face could be seen in one; or, more to the point, from that one face, it took little imagination to find one’s own. Narad did not know which lure made him strain to see Captain Scara Bandaris, but he knew that a transformation awaited the man.
Since their flight from the slaughter at the wedding site, Narad had begun, with quick glances, to set upon the features of the soldiers around him the semblance of corpses. In his mind he looked upon his companions as if they were lying on the ground, all life gone, with faces frozen in death. Perhaps it was only a game, or perhaps it was a promise, or even a prayer. He wanted them all dead. He wanted to gaze down on the once-laughing eyes and see the look of men and women who no longer had anything to laugh about. He wanted to see the jest of fate, and would show each face he saw a smile they would never answer, and could never challenge.
At the head of his troop, Captain Scara Bandaris rode up, harshly reining in his lathered horse. Narad squinted up at the man’s face, eager to set that lifeless mask upon it.
Instead, he saw nothing but blinding rage.
‘ By whose command? ’
The soldiers who had begun gathering close to greet their captain suddenly recoiled.
Something bright, like a fire, ignited in Narad.
Scara Bandaris dismounted. He strode directly towards Sergeant Radas. ‘Who is your commanding officer, sergeant? Tell me!’
‘You are, sir.’
‘And what orders did I leave you with?’
‘We were to await you in the forest. But sir, Lieutenant Infayen Menand brought us orders from Captain Hunn Raal.’
Scara’s face displayed incredulity. ‘Hunn Raal ordered the Legion to murder Lord Jaen and his daughter? To take the lives of highborn gathered to celebrate a wedding? Hunn Raal ordered you to unleash your soldiers on Enesdia? To rape her and leave her to die on the hearthstone? The hearthstone that was a gift from Lord Anomander to his brother? May I see these orders, sergeant? May I see for myself the sigil of Hunn Raal?’
Radas had gone white. ‘Sir, Lieutenant Infayen, who bore the word of Captain Hunn Raal, assumed command. I am a soldier of Urusander’s Legion. I follow the orders of my superiors.’
‘Where is Infayen now?’
‘East, sir, to join Commander Urusander.’
Captain Hallyd Bahann approached, Tathe Lorat at his side and trailing behind them an old man with but one leg, who struggled as the sodden ground made uncertain purchase for his crutch. Narad had looked upon Hallyd before, and had found it easy to imagine his visage made lifeless, all arrogance stripped away. It had been a delicious vision. Hallyd Bahann was a bully and the proof of that was in his bearing and his swollen features. He was a man who would look his best when dead.
‘Scara, old friend, welcome,’ said Hallyd. ‘There have been miscalculations, I think. We are agreed on that, you and me. The challenge before us now is to mitigate the damage to our cause.’
Scara was studying the man with level eyes. ‘Our cause indeed, Hallyd,’ he said in a suddenly calm voice. ‘Do remind us, Hallyd, of that cause. I find myself in need of this noble list uttered aloud. Be logical in your assembly, and lift us all once more into the realms of virtue. But pray, old friend, begin at the bottom, there in the blood between a dead woman’s legs.’
Hallyd’s smile vanished.
Without awaiting a reply, Scara continued. ‘Will you not carry us higher then, ignoring the stains as best you can, to a hostage slain defending that woman, cut down not in honourable contest, but as a wild dog staked to the ground? Then to an old man, a father and hero of the wars against the Forulkan, who died on the threshold of his son-in-law’s house?’ He spoke loudly, with weight, and that voice carried through the camp, pushed harsh against the silent soldiers. ‘But wait. Let us add a new rung in this righteous climb to our cause. A maid, one arm severed and then cut down. A maid, venal benefactor of the inequity we so despise. And the Houseblades, barely armed, who laid for our cause a carpet of split flesh and matted grasses.’ He raised his arms, like an orator set aflame with outrage. ‘But here anew we see more signs of Hunn Raal’s certain path to justice! The burnt corpses of Deniers in the forest! Why, those old wax witches grew fat at our expense, did they not? And the children showed improper pomp in the cut of their rags. Do speak to us, Hallyd Bahann, of our pure purpose. Tell me how a choice of faiths divides the realm we have sworn to defend, and do name your reasons for the side you set us on. Write your list in the columns of smoke behind me and stretch it across the heavens-’
‘Cease your tirade!’ snarled Tathe Lorat. ‘There will only be justice for Urusander’s Legion when we stand unopposed. We needed to strike first, Scara, and in a manner to divide our enemies that remain.’
He turned on her a sneer. ‘Divide? Did anyone truly believe that scattering a few corpses of Deniers among the slain would win a false trail? Lord Jaen was a master with the blade, but even he could not match Cryl Durav. That man slain by Deniers? He fell to multiple thrusts, killed by trained soldiers who knew how to fight a blademaster. Do you all take Lord Anomander for a fool?’
‘He is but one man,’ said Hallyd Bahann, who had made use of the momentary inattention to regain his bluster. ‘The plan was ill-conceived, but we all know how propriety is surrendered in the midst of bloodlust, Scara. It was regrettable, but there will be other crimes committed before this is done, by both sides, and you are a fool if you think otherwise.’
‘Oh, I am a fool to be sure,’ Scara replied. He returned to his horse and swung into the saddle. ‘I am done with this,’ he said. Twisting in his seat, he looked upon those soldiers who had accompanied him from Kharkanas. ‘Stay here and fight with your comrades, if you will. I yield command and reject my commission in Urusander’s Legion.’
Tathe Lorat laughed. ‘Flee back to Sedis Hold, then, and take whatever cowards would ride with you. Did I not warn you, Scara, against your friendship with Anomander’s brother? Be sure that white-skinned freak is upon your trail now, with vengeance in his heart.’ She shook her head. ‘Stand aside, will you? That choice no longer exists, Scara. Not for anyone, and especially not for you.’
Narad saw a few of his companions gathering their gear, clearly intent on joining their now outlawed captain. He hesitated, and then began collecting his own kit.
Tathe Lorat then went on, raising her voice. ‘And should Silchas Ruin not find you, then one day Urusander’s Legion will. That I promise, and you all know what Commander Urusander does to deserters.’