Brak saw the look of horror in Adrina's eyes and the pain of this confrontation emanating from the Harshini like waves of desperation. And he could see in Damin's eyes the weight of the decision he had been forced to make. For Damin it boiled down to a simple decision: the life of a Karien child or the life of his own child.
“I'll do it,” Brak said, stepping forward into the torchlight.
R'shiel rounded on him in horror. “Brak!”
“I'm sorry, R'shiel, but Damin has a point. If he doesn't deal with this, he'll never put an end to it. The child needs to die. He has to make an example of him.”
Damin looked stunned to find such an unexpected ally. “I cannot ask a Harshini to do this. I won't even ask it of my own men.”
“I'm a half-breed, Damin, and it won't be the worst thing I've done.” He turned to the Harshini and met Glenanaran's black eyes evenly. “Take the others away from here, Glenanaran. Just pray to the gods that watch over this child that Death comes quickly for him.”
The Harshini stared at him for a moment, while Brak silently willed him to understand. Then Glenanaran nodded solemnly. “We will pray for the child.”
Then do it quickly, Brak urged silently.
The Harshini turned and vanished into the darkness. R'shiel watched him with dismay as he walked across the clearing and took Mikel by the hand. Damin stood beside her, surprised and a little suspicious of Brak's willingness to kill.
“How do I know this isn't a trick?”
“This is no trick, Damin.”
He grabbed Mikel by the arm and pulled him clear of the guards, then drew the dagger from his belt. He turned it for a moment in his hand as if testing the weight, then he glared at Damin.
“Are you planning to watch?”
“Yes.”
“You're a sick son of a bitch, aren't you?”
“No, just a distrustful one. I don't believe you'll do it.”
He's calling my bluff. But he could not draw on his power to create an illusion. Damin would notice what he was up to as soon as he saw his eyes darken. R'shiel stood with Damin and made no move to stop him, either. She too was calling his bluff.
He looked into the eyes of the confused child. Mikel had moved beyond fear and stepped over into paralytic terror.
“Are you ready to meet Death, Mikel?” he asked softly, almost gently. Adrina choked back a sob in the background and the torches were hissing loudly in the unnatural silence.
Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt the presence of a god and almost sagged with relief. All around them, the air was suddenly filled with unnatural, crystalline music as the figure of Death appeared in the clearing. He wore a long hooded cloak, blacker than the night surrounding them. His face was a pale skull, his hollow eyes radiated light and he actually carried a scythe in his left hand.
Theatrical bastard, Brak thought sourly.
“This is the child you wish me to take?” the spectre asked in a musical voice that boomed through the clearing.
“Yes, my Lord.”
“You presume a great deal, Brakandaran.”
“This is necessary, my Lord.”
The being glanced around the clearing until his eyes alighted on R'shiel. Brak noticed, with some relief, that she was more suspicious than frightened. She was a smart girl. She would work out what was going on sooner or later. He just hoped that when she did figure it out, she kept her mouth shut.
“Demon child,” he said, with a slight bow in her direction.
“Divine One.”
The creature swivelled his fearsome head towards Mikel then and held out a skeletal arm to the child. “Come.”
As if in a trance, the Karien boy walked towards the spectre unresistingly. There was no fear in his eyes now, only quiet acceptance. Death took the child by the hand, cast a withering gaze over the stunned humans and disappeared, taking Mikel with him.
The silence that followed was chilling. Adrina screamed.
The sound broke Damin out of his trance and he ran to her, but she pushed him away and turned on Brak savagely.
“Get out! Get away from here! You murderous, cold-blooded bastard!”
“Adrina...” Damin said, trying to take her in his arms.
“Don't touch me! This was your idea and now look what you've done. Leave me alone!” She fled from the clearing sobbing loudly. Damin spared Brak a helpless look and followed after her.
Brak turned to find R'shiel standing alone in the clearing, her arms crossed, staring at him disapprovingly.
“Why?”
He shrugged. “Less blood this way.”
She crossed the space between them in three strides and punched him painfully in the shoulder. “What the hell was all that about?”
“Damin was going to kill him, R'shiel, make no mistake about that. It might have seemed like a good idea now, but I suspect it would have had long-term consequences he hadn't thought about. Don't worry about the boy. Gimlorie will keep him out of harm's way for the time being.”
She looked ready to hit him again. “You got Glenanaran to call Gimlorie, didn't you? That's why the Harshini didn't object.”
“Clever girl.”
“But why pretend he was Death?”
“Damin had to believe Mikel was dead, or he would have finished the job himself. Actually, I thought Gimlorie did a fair imitation of Death myself, although the scythe was a bit over the top.”
“Is Mikel dead?”
“He's residing with the gods, temporarily.”
“Will you stop being so bloody cryptic!”
He smiled at her anger, which did nothing to help. “I'll explain later. In the meantime, I think we should get out of here before Adrina decides to have me hung, drawn and quartered.”
“Where are we going to go at this time of night?”
“Back to the Citadel. I'm getting a little fed up with Xaphista. I think it's about time you fulfilled your destiny, demon child.”
CHAPTER 56
R'shiel was surprised by the number of Kariens camped around the Citadel as they flew towards it. The invading army had now pulled back behind the shallow Saran River. They had blocked the bridges with overturned wagons and there was clear ground between the Citadel and the Karien troops. There seemed to be fewer Kariens, although they still numbered in the tens of thousands. The combination of dwindling supplies, no spiritual or military leadership and, she learnt later that day, the news that the Harshini had returned, had played havoc with the siege army.
She had no time to dwell on it, though, as she noticed the Citadel. It was just on dusk, and she had expected to see the Dimming begin as the walls paled and lost their radiance with the coming night. But the Citadel shone like a lantern in the gathering gloom, casting its soft light out towards the Saran. It made sense, then, why the Kariens had pulled back behind the water. They were hiding in the darkness where the Citadel's illumination could not touch them.
The dragons settled on the sandy floor of the amphitheatre as the sun set completely, but even here the night was banished by the radiance. A Defender R'shiel did not know came out to greet them, casting his eyes over the dragons with the world-weary air of a man who had seen it all before, and informed them that the Lord Defender was expecting them, and required their presence immediately.
“Where have you been?” Tarja demanded as soon as they appeared in the doorway. “We expected you back days ago.”
“We were checking on Damin and the Fardohnyans.”
“How close are they?” Garet asked. He and Shananara were sitting in the heavy leather chairs facing the desk. Tarja paced behind it like a restless cat.