‘She’s going to be Queen,’ I tried to say, but the words were barely a whisper now. ‘And you …’
‘I know,’ he said, ‘now comes the hard part. But with a hundred Greatcoats at our backs, I like our chances.’
I tried shaking my head. Not me, I tried to say. I’ve done my duty. I’ve solved the King’s damned riddle and fought his damned battles. I’m going away now to see him again, to listen to his mad dreams and his bad jokes, to sit under shady trees with my wife.
‘Said your goodbyes, have you?’
The voice was old and mean and full of hard-packed sand. My vision blurred in and out and back again and finally settled on the ugly face of the Tailor.
Please don’t let her face be the last thing I remember of this world.
She laughed. ‘Ah, Falcio, ever the sense of humour.’
Through the dull softness of the poison I felt a hard, callused hand grip my jaw and shake me. ‘All done?’ she asked. ‘Said all your goodbyes?’
I tried to tell her that I had, that I was ready now.
‘I can hear you just fine, Falcio.’
Good. Then let me go. And can I suggest you do something about your breath?
She ignored the jibe – or maybe she had lied about being able to hear me. ‘Ready to make the sacrifice now, Falcio?’ she asked.
I already did. I did everything he asked of me.
I slipped under the water again – or was it out of the water? I felt my King’s hand on my shoulder, my wife’s fingertips touching my cheek. The air was scented, pine and baked bread. I want to wake up to this, now.
‘Get the girl over here.’ The harsh voice of the Tailor broke through the sounds of leaves rustling and running streams. ‘Kest, give me your sword.’
‘Why?’ he asked.
‘Just you shut up and do as you’re told. Saint or not, I can still put a beating on you better’n you deserve.’
The hand on my jaw shook me again. Foul breath filled my senses and dragged me back into the world. ‘Do you want to know how the neatha works, Falcio?’ the Tailor asked.
No. Why would I care?
She shook me again, and my vision returned for a second. The Tailor’s face was close to mine. In her hand she held Kest’s sword. Aline stood behind her.
‘It’s a powdered form of the soft candy, Falcio – just what you forced Paelis to have his apothecaries make. It works by tricking your body into letting go of itself. That’s why it doesn’t hurt. The poison’s not killing you – it’s just letting you die. It takes away will and need and the stubborn anger of relentless life. Ironic, isn’t it?’
Not especially. Her mention of the King made me seek him out again, but she shook my jaw a third time. ‘No, no, Falcio. You haven’t answered my question. Are you ready to make the sacrifice?’
Yes! Yes, you foul old bitch. I’ve sacrificed everything. I fought for his laws and I fought for his daughter. I’ve fought and fought and fought until all that’s left of me is a blade in my hand and anger in my heart. I’ve made the sacrifice. Now let me go!
‘Ah, you fool. Dying isn’t sacrifice. Haven’t you figured that out yet? All those years of trying to get yourself killed in battle? That ain’t sacrifice, boy. That’s self-loathing. It’s gleeful suicide. It’s vanity.’
I felt her hand release my jaw and saw her stand up. She pushed Aline in front of me and took the sword in both her hands, pulling it back in line with the girl’s neck. ‘Now this? This is sacrifice!’
Aline’s trusting eyes held mine as the blade began its arc towards her neck.
No—! Kest! The old woman’s lost her mind – she’s mad with grief, and no one but me can see it … she’s going to—
Pain exploded in every fibre of my body. Blurred vision sharpened into a narrow tunnel in front of me, though I could see nothing but red. The world was all blood and dust and agony was everywhere, radiating first and foremost from my left hand. My ears were filled with the sounds of my own uncontrollable coughing and tears came streaming from my eyes. I forced them shut. It was as if all my senses were trying to expel all traces of peace and gentleness from me.
‘Falcio?’ Was that Kest’s voice?
I tried to will away the clarity that was coming back to me. No – let me go. Let me go back.
‘Falcio, you need to open your eyes now. You need to let go of the sword.’
Unwillingly, unbearably, my eyes opened. I was on my knees, and Aline was still there in front of me. She hadn’t moved. A sword was held in mid-air, its blade an inch from her neck, held in place by my bleeding hand, its weight making it cut even deeper into my flesh. The Tailor had already let go of it and only my grip was keeping it from clattering to the cave floor.
Kest took the sword in one hand and gently pulled my fingers apart with the other. His eyes were soft and sad for me. Someone wrapped my hand in cloth. If I’d had the strength, I would have ripped it off. I had tasted peace, and love. And reward. I had been at the edge of the warm lands, near those I longed most to see again, and instead, here I was, back in this foul world with all its corruption and putre-faction, its broken hopes and desperate need.
The Tailor shoved Kest aside and grabbed me by the back of the head. Her fingers entangled themselves in my hair and pulled back hard, forcing my gaze up to the ceiling of the cave. She leaned in so that her face filled my vision. ‘This, Falcio: this is sacrifice. This is the price you pay for your valour.’ She kissed me on the lips. It was perhaps the most disgusting sensation of my entire life, but it did take my mind off the pain in my hand.
Then she smiled her crooked smile at me. ‘Now get off your arse and let’s get to work.’
I stayed that way, on my knees, for a few minutes more. I knew I should move, get up, deal with whatever was coming next, but I couldn’t. I had tasted joy and release and an ending to all the pain and rage that had filled my life. Since the day I’d found my wife’s broken body in that tavern, I had taken refuge in madness. Now the madness was gone, taken from me, and only the pain remained. I cursed the Tailor for what she had done. I cursed the King for breaking his promise to reunite me with my wife. And I cursed her too, for having been so damnably brave on that day. You and I will grow old together and laugh at the day these silly birds came to rest in our fields. She had been wrong and stupid and she had left me alone in this place that was so full of festering rot that I could no longer even see the edges of the decay around me.
Hands gripped me by the arms and lifted me up. I knew it was Kest and Brasti, for no one else would have dared. I lacked even the desire to resist, and so I let them carry me out of the cave, my arms slung around their shoulders like a drunk. My eyes were closed, but I felt the warmth of the early morning sun on my face and so I opened them, hoping the harsh light would blind me, at least for a little while.
‘Hells, Falcio,’ Brasti said, his voice soft. ‘There aren’t words to say how sorry I am.’
Out of reflex I opened my mouth speak, but there was nothing to say.
‘Leave it,’ Kest said.
‘No,’ Brasti said. ‘No. This has to be said. We have to acknowledge what’s happened here.’ He let go of me and I found my feet. Kest tried to steady me, but I pushed him away.
Brasti turned to me and put his hands on my shoulders and shook his head. ‘Gods and Saints, Falcio. I’m so sorry. I’m so, so very sorry. I can’t imagine what you’ve just experienced.’