The heirs of the Dread Empire, both the Demon Princess and the Dragon Prince, aspired to western conquests.
Tain frowned. Sorceries had met here. The eastern had been victorious. So what had become of the victor?
He waited nearly fifteen minutes, till certain the obvious trap wasn't there. Only then did he enter the yard.
He couldn't get near Toma. The flames were too hot.
Kleckla was beyond worry anyway.
Tain was calm. His reason was at work. He had surprised himself in the jaws of a merciless vice.
One was his determination to rid the Zemstvi of the Witch and her thieves. The other was the hunter from home, who would be a man stronger than he, a highly ranked Candidate or Select.
Where was he? Why didn't he make his move?
Right now, just possibly, he could get away. If he obscured his trail meticulously and avoided using the Power again, he might give his past the slip forever. But if he hazarded the Tower, there would be no chance whatsoever. He would have to use the Power. The hunter would pin him down, and come when he was exhausted....
Life had been easier when he hadn't made his own decisions. Back then it hadn't mattered if a task were perilous or impossible. All he had had to do was follow orders.
He released the old cow, recovered his mule packs. He stared at them a long time, as if he might be able to exhume a decision from their contents.
He heard a noise. His hands flew to his swords.
Rula, Steban, and the mule descended the hill.
Tain relaxed, waited.
Rula surveyed the remains. "This's the cost of conciliation." There was no venom in her voice.
"Yes." He searched her empty face for a clue. He found no help there.
"Rula, they've sent somebody after me. From the east. He's in the Zemstvi now. I don't know where.
He was here. He chased the Caydarmen off. I don't know why. I don't know who he is. I don't know how he thinks. But I know what his mission is. To take me home."
Steban said, "I saw him."
"What?"
"A stranger. I saw him. Over there. He was all in black. He had this ugly mask on...."
A brief hope flickered in Tain's breast.
"The mask. What did it look like? What were his clothes like?"
Steban pouted. "I only saw him for a second. He scared me. I ran."
"Try to think. It's important. A soldier has to remember things, Steban. Everything."
"I don't think I want to be a soldier anymore."
"Come on. Come on." Tain coaxed him gently, and in a few minutes had drawn out everything Steban knew.
"Kai Ling. Can't be anybody else." His voice was sad.
"You know him?" Rula asked.
"I knew him. He was my best friend. A long, long time ago. When we were Steban's age."
"Then. ..."
"Nothing. He's still a Tervola Aspirant. He's been given a mission. Nothing will deflect him. He might shed a tear for our childhood afterward. He was always too emotional for his chosen path."
She surveyed his gear while he helped Steban off the mule. "You mean you have to run to have a chance?"
"Yes."
"Then run. Anything you did now would be pointless anyway."
"No. A soldier's honor is involved. To abandon a task in the face of a secondary danger would be to betray a code which has been my life. I'm a soldier. I can't stop being one. And soldiers of the Dread Empire don't retreat. We don't flee because we face defeat. There may be purpose in sacrifice. We withdraw only if ordered."
"There's nobody to order you. You could go. You're your own commander now."
"I know. That's why it's so difficult."
"I can't help you. Tain." The weight of Toma's demise had begun to crack her barriers against grief.
"You can. Tell me what you'll do."
"About what?"
He indicated the stead. "You can't stay. Can you?"
She shrugged.
"Will you go with me if I go?"
She shrugged again. The grief was upon her now. She wasn't listening.
Tain massaged his aching temples, then started unpacking his armor.
Piece by piece, he became a leading centurion of the Demon Guard. Steban watched with wide eyes.
He recognized the armor. The legions were known far beyond lands that had endured their unstoppable passing.
Tain donned his helmet, his swords and witch kit. He paused with his mask in hand. Rula said nothing. She stared at Toma, remembering.
Tain shook his head, donned the mask, walked to the roan. He started toward the Tower.
He didn't look back.
The armor began to feel comfortable. The roan pranced along, glad to be a soldier's steed once more. He felt halfway home....
What he had said penetrated Rula's brain soon after he passed out of view. She glanced round in panic.
The mule remained. As did all Tain's possessions except his weapons and armor. "He left his things!"
Quiet tears dribbled from Steban's eyes. "Ma. I don't think he expects to come back. He thinks he's going to die."
"Steban, we've got to stop him."
XIX
Tain came to the dark tower in the day's last hour. Caydarmen manned its ramparts. An arrow dropped from the sky. It whistled off his armor.
Torfin stood beside the Witch. Tain heard her say, "He's not the same one. He wore robes. And walked."
And Torfin responded, awed, "It's Tain. The man who stayed with your father."
There was no thought in the old soldier. He was a machine come to destroy the Tower. He let decades of combat schooling guide him.
He began with the gate.
From his witch pouch he drew a short, slim rod and a tiny glass vial. He thrust the rod into the vial, making sure the entire shaft was moist. He spoke words he had learned long ago.
Fire exploded in his hand. He hurled a flaming javelin.
It flew perfectly flat, immune to gravity. It struck the gate, made a sound like the beating of a brass gong.
Timbers flew as the gate shattered.
Caydarmen scrambled down from the ramparts.
Tain returned to his pouch. He removed the jar and silver box he had used in the pass. He greased his hands, obtained one of the deadly peas. He concentrated, breathed. The cerulean glow came into being. He hurled a fiery blue ball upward.
It rose slowly, drifted like gossamer toward the ramparts.
The Witch didn't recognize her peril until too late. The ball jumped at her, enveloping her left hand.
She screamed.
Torfin bellowed, followed his confederates downstairs.
Tain dismounted and strode through the gate.
Grimnir met him first. Fear filled the big man's eyes. He fought with desperate genius.
And he died.
As did his comrades, though they tried to team against the man in black.
Trolledyngjans were feared throughout the west. They were deadly fighters. These were amazed by their own ineffectuality But they had never faced a soldier of the Dread Empire, let alone a leading centurion of the Demon Guard.
The last fell. Tain faced Torfin. "Yield, boy," he said, breaking battle discipline. "You're the one good man in this viper's nest Go."
"Release her." The youth indicated the ramparts. The girl's screams had declined to moans. She had begun fighting the ball Tain knew she had the strength to beat it, if she could find and harness it.