“Come on,” he said finally. “I missed breakfast too.”
CHAPTER 5
Mikel had to run to keep up with R'shiel's long-legged stride. Although she had him by the hand, she paid him no further attention as they wound through the chaotic camp. With his free hand he wiped his nose, which was tingling in the brisk wind. He was still too much in awe of the demon-melded dragon he had just witnessed to be concerned where R'shiel might be taking him.
The order to break camp had only been issued a few hours ago, but already most of the tents were packed, only the larger infirmary and mess tents and those belonging to the senior officers remained standing. The Defenders were keen to be gone from this place and anxious to avoid the approaching Kariens. Mikel had seen enough to understand that it was not fear of the Kariens that prompted the Medalonians' haste, but that they wanted to avoid the inconvenience of taking even more prisoners.
Mikel's entire system of beliefs had been stretched beyond credulity in the past few weeks. First Princess Adrina had betrayed the Prince. Then Prince Cratyn had proved to be as callous and vicious as any other man in his desire to murder his wife for her treachery. His own brother Jaymes had joined the Hythrun and his best friend Dace had turned out to be the God of Thieves. Then, with hardly any objections, Adrina had married Lord Wolfblade.
And now the fabled demon child had commandeered his services. This tall, impatient young woman whom demons followed around like puppies and whom everyone treated with a great deal of trepidation.
“My Lady?”
“Yes?”
“What did you want me to do?”
R'shiel stopped suddenly and smiled down at him. “I want you to help me with something, Mikel. Something magic.”
“Is it going to get me into trouble?”
The demon child laughed softly. “I have to convince the Kariens they want to go home, and that means turning even the priests from the Overlord's path for a time. Are you afraid?”
Mikel frowned. “I don't think so. I've turned from my God. I let you kill my Prince. I've honoured the God of Thieves. I don't think I'm much of anything, any more.”
R'shiel placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Mikel, I think you'll find that you are far more worthy than you imagine.”
Mikel wanted to believe her. She was the demon child, after all. Perhaps she knew things he did not. But it seemed unlikely.
“If you say so, my Lady.”
R'shiel smiled again but did not answer for a time.
When she spoke again, her question took him completely by surprise. “Mikel, who did the Kariens follow before Xaphista came along?”
“The priests said they worshipped false gods,” he told her, “just as Hythria and Fardohnya still do.”
“Yes, but there must have been one that was predominant. Zegarnald has a pretty firm grip on Hythria and Jelanna seems to be the most popular goddess in Fardohnya.”
“The only one I ever heard of was Leylanan,” Mikel replied after a moment's thought.
“What is he the god of?”
“She, not he. Leylanan was the Goddess of the River.”
“I thought that was Maera?” R'shiel said.
“Leylanan was the Goddess of the Ironbrook River. Maybe Maera is the Goddess of the Glass River.”
R'shiel was silent for a moment then shook her head. “No, she won't do. I need someone else.”
Mikel wasn't sure he understood, or even if R'shiel was addressing him. She sounded as if she was simply thinking aloud.
“Do you really think you can turn the priests from the Overlord, my Lady?”
“I have to.”
Mikel had the impression that once set on an idea, R'shiel was determined to make it happen. He had no idea what she was planning, and certainly no idea what his role would be.
“Lord Laetho used to say that you've more chance of making a Karien dance a heathen jig naked in the moonlight than you have of turning him from his God,” he offered helpfully.
“Maybe I should call on the God of Music, then,” R'shiel grumbled, obviously not pleased that things were not going according to plan.
“Do the Harshini have a God of Music?” he asked curiously.
“Gimlorie is the God of Music, Mikel, and he is as insubstantial and ephemeral as music itself. When I was in Sanctuary, the Harshini would call on him sometimes. His song is the most beautiful thing I have ever heard. It touches men's souls...”
Mikel stared at R'shiel as a slow, devious smile crept over her face. “Music of any kind is frowned upon in Karien, my Lady. It's a sin,” Mikel added.
R'shiel looked down at him and smiled. “Not any more, it isn't.”
She grabbed his hand suddenly and led him away from the direction of the infirmary tent, leaving him even more confused.
“My Lady?” he ventured, as he hurried along beside her through the organised chaos that was all that was left of the Defenders' camp. It seemed as if most of it had vanished into the supply wagons while they were talking.
“You don't have to keep calling me that, Mikel. My name is R'shiel.”
“It wouldn't be proper, my Lady. Where are we going?”
“We're going to summon the God of Music, Mikel.”
“Why?”
R'shiel looked down at him and smiled reassuringly. “He's going to teach you how to sing.”
Mikel didn't know whether to be frightened by R'shiel or not. She had never done him any harm; in fact she had virtually ignored him up until this morning, when she suddenly decided she needed him for some yet-to-be-revealed task. She was all but dragging him towards the tents where the Hythrun Raiders were accommodated.
“Almodavar!”
The savage-looking Hythrun turned at the sound of her voice.
“Divine One?”
“Please don't call me that. Where is Mikel's brother?”
“Young Jaymes? Down with the horses helping Nercher if he knows what's good for him,” the captain replied. “Has he done something I should know about?”
“No. But I'd like to see him. Can you send him to me?”
The captain nodded and turned to give the order to fetch Jaymes. Mikel glanced at R'shiel curiously.
“What do you want with Jaymes, my Lady?”
“You're going to learn a song, Mikel. Jaymes is going to be there to make sure you don't get lost in it.”
“I see,” Mikel said, nodding sagely, although in truth he understood nothing at all.
CHAPTER 6
By early afternoon, the Defenders were ready to move out. That morning, the camp had been the size of a small town. Now there was nothing left but a large area of trampled grass to mark their passing. He knew they had been setting up and pulling down the camp each day while they travelled north from the Citadel. The late Lord Setenton enjoyed his creature comforts and would have it no other way, but in the two weeks they had spent camped on the plain they had settled in so comfortably, Damin found it hard to believe they could dismantle it all with such speed.
His own Raiders took less time to organise, but they were fewer and had been travelling much more lightly than the Defenders. Almodavar had had them ready to leave hours ago. What kept them here now were the Kariens.
His men formed a mounted ring around the captured knights, bows strung, arrows at the ready, waiting for one of them to break. Damin didn't know why they were holding the Kariens here while the Defenders went on ahead, and a part of him was afraid to ask. He knew as well as anyone the dilemma these prisoners posed. That the Defenders were leaving them behind did not augur well for their future.