The Heart of the mirage

'You forgot to renew it last night.'

'Oh, Goddess…'

'No harm done. I kept watch. And I didn't have to go far away to find the duck, either.'

'What are the legionnaires doing?'

'Packing up to go. The fog has gone. They've been sifting through the remains of the camp to see what they can salvage. Some of the men have been off hunting – they are short of food now. I've seen Favonius from a distance; he seems to have recovered. The Legate wanted to see you again. I told the messenger you were ill. I hinted you were ensorcelled. He – the Legate – sent back the advice that you ought to move out of the building. He says you're welcome to join them on their retreat across the mountains. Ligea, why in all Acheron's mists didn't Favonius tell everyone he believes you were responsible for what happened last night?'

'I told you he wouldn't.' I had reassured Brand of that the night before, but he hadn't quite believed me.

'How did you know he wouldn't?'

'I know Favonius. How could he {ell anyone? Everyone knows he and I have been lovers for years. How can he tell his comrades-at-arms he was bedding something capable of sorcery all that time and never knew it? His pride won't let him say a word. Pride has always been Favonius's weakness. Pride and the arrogance of the younger son who made it on his own.' He brought across a plate of food to me. 'Goddess, this looks good, Brand. And I'm so hungry. There's nothing like a spot of sorcery to increase the appetite!'

By midmorning the Stalwarts were on their way.

There was nothing proud about them now. Many of them still had their gorclaks, but there was little else of value for them to take back over the Alps. Their food would be whatever they could hunt or forage on the way, their only shelters the caves they could find, their only warmth the fur cloaks they wore. Many of them were going to die, and they knew it.

I also knew it and part of me grieved.

Brand and I stood by the river and watched them ride past. The men rode without speaking, many of them making the evil-avert sign as they passed the building the Mirage had built. The Legate reined in when he came level with me. 'Legata.' He inclined his head in greeting. 'You look ill. Your servant told me you were sick.'

'I am recovering, fortunately.'

'Do you wish to ride with us?'

I shook my head. 'I have no mandate to return to Tyrans.'

'Tribune Favonius tells me you refuse to give us the information of how to cross the Shiver Barrens. Is that true?'

I nodded.

"Why is that?'

'If you sought to return to the coast that way, you would all fall to sorcery, without exception. There is no other way back to Tyrans for you but this one.' I nodded to the mountains.

'By your silence you ensure that we have no choice. Yet it is not the task of the Brotherhood to make decisions on behalf of legionnaires. You exceed your authority. Do you persist in withholding the information?'

T do.'

He sat there looking at me in silence for a long minute. From his emotions, I had a fair idea of what he was thinking. He wondered if he could force me at sword point to tell him what he wanted to know.

I stared back. 'I'm a Compeer of the Brotherhood, Legate. You know my reputation.'

He nodded, resigned. A compeer would die rather than talk under torture. Or they'd give the wrong information. And then he'd have to face the wrath of the Magister Officii. He said, 'I shall be making a complaint to the Brotherhood about your lack of cooperation.'

'That is your privilege.'

He nodded curtly and rode on.

I said quietly to Brand, 'Rathrox will make animal mash out of him if he starts talking about what the Brotherhood should and should not do.'

Favonius was one of the last to ride by and he, too, halted his mount in front of me. His face twisted unpleasantly. T told no one here of what you are, but I will make you a promise,-Ligea. The Brotherhood will

be told all I know when I return to Tyr. If you dare to show your face again within any civilised portion of the Exaltarchy, you will have to deal with them. And if I ever hear of your return, I shall ride after you personally. You may be clever with that gem in your hand, but I doubt even you are immune to an arrow in the back.'

I was overwhelmed by a need to explain, to try to eradicate that expression of vicious hate on his face. 'Favonius -' I began, not knowing what I was going to say, but he didn't let me finish anyway.

'There is nothing – nothing! – that you could say to excuse what you have done.' He waved savagely at the line of men now fording the shallowest reach of the river. 'How many of them do you think will be alive when we reach Tyrans? Without shelter, food supplies, weapons?'

'A great many more than would have ultimately survived an incursion into the Mirage.' I didn't know whether that was true or not, but I wanted him to believe it.

'But at least they would have died in a fight, with swords in their hands! They would have fallen with honour, not perished slowly of cold and hunger and fatigue.'

'With honour? Is there honour in killing children, Favo?' Anyway, what does honour matter to the dead? Some of you will survive this way.'

'Goddess, you understand nothing. Nothing! We are the Stalwarts -' He choked on the words, his anger silencing him. He jerked the reins brutally to swing his mount away from me, then dug in his heels and plunged the beast down the riverbank.

Brand glanced at me. I stood, shoulders slumped, in a posture of defeat rather than triumph. My face felt pinched; I knew I looked older, and ill.

'There would have been no honour in what they would have done to the Kardis and the Mirage,' he said gently.

'No. None.'

He took hold of me and began to help me back towards the building. I could hardly walk. 'Will he really go to the Brotherhood, do you think?' he asked.

'Oh yes. Pride won't let him tell his fellow Stalwarts about me, but it won't stop him telling the Brotherhood. It is necessary for his self-esteem that he does so. He must exact his revenge at being bested by a woman, bested by someone he once trusted. Wouldn't you do that if you walked his road?'

He laughed. 'I have my pride, but it doesn't need to be fed by revenge. And as long as I have done my best within the limits of my knowledge and abilities, my pride remains intact. To be bested under those circumstances is not to be shamed. Just as it is no shame to the slave to be enslaved.'

'But to stay enslaved?'

He was still smiling. 'That was my choice. No one would have kept me a slave for very long if it hadn't been my wish. But I think I begin to understand your lack of interest in me as a man up until recently. It had nothing to do with being a "brother", did it? It had more to do with being just a shade contemptuous of a man who allowed himself to be a slave.'

I looked away, shamefaced. 'Perhaps. You are a remarkable man, Brand, and I was both insensitive and blind.'

He nodded in amicable agreement. 'And I was undoubtedly a little stupid. I should have made things clearer long ago. Instead, I waited, and you fell in love with another man.' /

'That would have happened eventually anyway.'

'Because you are both Magor? Yes, you are right. Too bad for me. And now let us change the subject – is what Favonius said true? Are you vulnerable to an arrow in the back?'

'Oh yes. Although I should be able to sense the approach of an assassin.'

'So, are you going to return to Tyrans?'

'Yes. We must get to Tyr before they do. I have to sell my property and secure my money before Favonius or the Legate talks to the Brotherhood and that bastard Rathrox Ligatan has my assets impounded.' I smiled without mirth. 'Otherwise you'll be claiming what is yours from empty coffers, my friend. You will have nothing to get you back to Altan. And I will have nothing to give my son when he is born.'

He made a gesture of dismissal. 'Better you forget your money. Stay here, Ligea. Explain to Temellin. Now that you have turned back the Stalwarts, he will know where your loyalty lies.'