The Heart of the mirage

I gave a hollow laugh. 'Ah, I fear I have done my work too well, Brand. Where is the proof the Stalwarts were ever here?'

He turned to point at the remains of the camp, only to have the gesture die half made. Behind us the grass of the plains rippled in the breeze unburnt, unmarked. The discarded weapons and broken gear had vanished. Even the legionnaire graves had been smoothed over, wiped away as if they had never existed.

'Goddessdamn.'

As you say.'

'So what will we do? We can't cross the Alps -'

'No, I know. It would take too long. We will ride south to the edge of the Mirage, cross the Shiver Barrens there, and so on to the coast. To a place called

Ordensa. It's a fishing village near the border. We'll ask a fisherman to take us to Tyr.'

'And he'll do it, just like that? A Kardi, sailing to Tyrans of his own free will?'

I raised my palm to show him my cabochon. 'I am still a Magoria. Any Kardi would be glad to serve me.' We had reached the building, and he opened the door for me. I collapsed gratefully onto my pallet. 'We'll stay here a couple of days so I can rest. Then we'll ride south. Right now, all I want to do is sleep.'

Dusk came early to that part of the plains in the shadow of the mountains, but the twilight was long. Brand and I ate our evening meal sitting on the stoop in the half-light, then – still tired as a result of my use of my cabochon and sword against the Stalwarts four days earlier – I went to my pallet. Brand was pottering around, stoking up the fire, repairing a broken harness, feeding the red-eyed bird. We were intending to make an early start on our ride south to Ordensa the next morning.

I watched him and wondered at the newness of what I felt. A sort of fond affection, something more than what there had been, something less than what I knew was possible. There was no trace of Magorness about him now, and the scar on his stomach was fading. His lovemaking had become a joy to me, smoothing away some of the ache of Temellin's absence. We both knew it would end sooner or later, but the thought worried neither of us. It was something we had for now, it was precious to both of us, but not so absorbing that we would not be able to walk away from it when the time came.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I watched him, and knew he was trying to find the right words to tell me something. I said, 'You still think I should go to him, don't you?'

He looked up, relieved I had been the one to bring up the subject. 'You belong in Kardiastan, Ligea. Look, if you want, I can go to Tyr, alone. You still have your seal and your papers on you. I can carry your instructions to Tyr, with your seal on them. I can pick up what you owe me, I can arrange to have your money transferred here, anything you like.'

I shook my head. 'No. As soon as I'm able, we'll ride for Ordensa – and Tyr.'

'But what of Temellin? Sooner or later he must find out what you have done to the Stalwarts, surely, and then he'll want you – and your son – here, if you'll forgive him for his distrust.'

'Forgive him? I never did blame him!' I turned from him so he could not see my face. 'He will have his son when the time comes.'

'And do you think he will sit quietly in Kardiastan and let you ride away? He's not that sort of man, Ligea. He'll follow you.'

'He can't leave Kardiastan. He is their Mirager, Brand. He is needed here. Anyway, they are about to take on Tyrans. They are about to begin the disintegration of the Exaltarchy; he has more to do than worry about me.' I added for good measure, 'Just as you will have, when you continue the process in Altan one day. And I, too – when I do my part, in Tyrans.' Perhaps I'd be able to forget Temellin in the process, and expiate some of the guilt I felt. Guilt at what I had been, guilt at the evil Solad had done to save me. I had perfected the art of persuading others to betrayal, when betrayal had been the basis of my life, had I but known it. _,

Brand radiated worry. Quite deliberately, of course. 'In Tyrans, you will be alone. Condemned, if they catch you. Stay here. Here at least you'll have power, position. In Tyrans you would be forever on the run, always hiding. Rathrox Ligatan will have your head on a stake at Tyr's main gate if ever he catches up with you.'

I turned back to him, smiling. 'No power, Brand?' I raised my hand and showed him my cabochon. It had already regained much of its colour. 'What of this? What of my Magor sword? I have all the power I need.'

He opened his mouth and then closed it again. Finally he said carefully, 'Er, may I ask just what you are planning?'

'Well, I'd like to have a hand in seeing Rathrox Ligatan gets what's due to him. At one time I would have liked to be Magister Officii, but not now. Why should I aim so low? And what better way of ending slavery, of helping Kardiastan – or even your Altan for that matter – than being the rooster at the top of the midden rather than one halfway down?' It was an idea I had been playing with for some time now, and it had been growing more and more attractive as time went by.

Brand stared, puzzled. Then his jaw dropped. 'Sweet Goddess!'

I arched an eyebrow at him. 'Have I finally managed to penetrate that inhuman calm of yours, my Altani friend?'

'The Exaltarch?. You want to be the ExaltarchV

'And why not?'

He continued to stare. Then laughter bubbled up from inside him. He slapped his thigh and roared. I had never heard Brand laugh quite like that before. I waited patiently until the gasping whoops reduced

themselves, via more manageable guffaws, to the occasional chuckle.

'When you've quite finished -' I said.

He gave a final laugh. 'Ah, Ligea, you are really something. The compeer who was a general's daughter might be long gone, but for all that, there's still some of that old Ligea – indomitable, irrepressible Ligea – in this new one. And she's much more likeable.'

'You think I'm being ridiculous.'

He thought about that and then shook his head. 'No. No, I don't. If you say you're going to be Exaltarch, then that's just what you will be. If you say you're going to break the Empire into a thousand pieces, then I'll believe that too. I just wish I could be there to see Ligatan's face when you wave that sword of yours under his skinny nose.'

We both smiled at the thought.

It was Brand who splintered the moment. 'I must go and start the packing while there's still a bit of light in the sky,' he said. He picked up the saddlebags and strolled out.

I lay back on the pallet, planning. There should be a way to preserve the best of the Exaltarchy while doing away with this whole idea of enslaved or tributary states. A loose trade federation, perhaps, with some kind of voluntary tax to maintain peacekeeping forces and tradeways. Yes, that might be possible. The hard thing would be to change an economy and a culture dependent on slave labour…

I drowsed while I waited for him, enjoying my laziness. And was jerked back to alertness by a sound. A rumbling, a deep-throated thundering, a growl, as if the ground itself were venting its rage. My head jerked up in shock, just in time to feel the pallet beneath me take on a life of its own. First it twisted, then it slewed

sideways, humping up at the same time so that I had to grab hold of it to avoid being tumbled onto the floor. I was more puzzled than frightened; I thought it was another trick of the Mirage Makers – until something black flapped by my head, giving out frantic kitten-mews of terror. The red-eyed bird the Mirage Makers had supplied with the house. It wouldn't have been frightened of a change wrought by its makers.

I leapt to my feet, sword already in my hand and flaming into light – and gagged on my horror. A foul stench soured die air around me.

The Ravage.

The floor of the room between me and the door dissolved into writhing blackish slime. The far wall was already crumbling into the foulness, sliding stone by stone under the surface scum. The flagstones beneath the pallet heaved and cracked. The pinions of the black bird scraped my face as it swooped towards the broken wall on its way out; I envied it its wings. I knew I had only moments before the floor disintegrated and plunged me into the corruption of the Ravage.