She covered his face with a blanket.
‘Now your obligation is over,’ Renya told the silent Tenaka.
‘Not yet,’ he said, pulling shut the window. ‘He told me he knew of a way to end Ceska’s reign. Do you know what he meant?’
‘No.’ She turned away from him and gathered her cloak, her heart suddenly empty. Then she stopped, her cloak falling from her hands as she stared at the dying fire and shook her head. Keality receded. What was there to live for?
Nothing.
What was there to care for?
Nothing.
She knelt by the fire, staring unblinking as a terrible ache filled the emptiness within. Aulin’s life had been a steady tale of small kindnesses, tenderness and caring. Never had he been intentionally cruel or malicious; never greedy. But he had ended his life in a deserted barracks – hunted as a criminal, betrayed by his friends and lost to his god.
Tenaka watched her, no hint of emotion in his violet eyes. He was a man used to death. Quietly he stowed his gear in the canvas pack, then lifted her to her feet, fastened her cloak and pushed her gently through the doorway.
‘Wait here,’ he said. Returning to the bed, he pulled his blanket clear of the corpse. The old man’s eyes had opened and he seemed to be staring at the warrior.
‘Sleep truly,’ whispered Tenaka. ‘I will take care of her.’ He closed the dead eyes and folded his blanket.
Outside the air was crisp. The wind had died and the sun shone weakly in a clear sky. Tenaka took a slow deep breath.
‘Now it is over,’ whispered Renya. Tenaka glanced round.
Four warriors had left the screen of trees and were walking forward with swords in hand.
‘Leave me,’ she said.
‘Be silent.’
He loosed his pack, lowering it to the snow, then pushed back his cloak from his shoulders, revealing the scabbard sword and hunting-knife. Walking forward ten paces he waited for the warriors, gauging each man in turn.
They wore the red and bronze breastplates of Delnoch.
‘What do you seek?’ asked Tenaka, as they drew near.
None of the soldiers spoke, which marked them as veterans, but they spread out slightly – ready for any aggressive action from the warrior.
‘Speak, or the emperor will have your heads!’ said Tenaka. That stopped them and their eyes flickered to a sharp-featured swordsman on the left; he stepped forward, his blue eyes cold and malevolent.
‘Since when does a northern savage make promises on behalf of the emperor?’ he hissed.
Tenaka smiled. They had all stopped and were waiting for an answer; they had lost their momentum.
‘Perhaps I should explain,’ he said, maintaining the smile and moving towards the man. ‘It’s like this . . .’ His hand flashed out and up, fingers extended, smashing the man’s nose. The thin cartilage sliced up into the brain and he dropped without a sound. Then Tenaka whirled and leapt, his booted foot hammering into the throat of a second man. Even as he leapt he drew the hunting-knife. Landing on the balls of his feet he spun, parried a thrust and buried his blade in his opponent’s neck.
The fourth man was running towards Renya, sword raised. She stood still, watching him without interest.
Tenaka hurled the hunting-knife, which hit the man hilt-first at the base of the helm. Unbalanced, the warrior tumbled in the snow, losing his grip on his sword. Tenaka ran forward as he scrambled to rise, then threw himself on the man’s back and he pitched forward once more, his helm tumbling from his head. Tenaka grabbed his hair, tugging the head back, then took hold of the man’s chin and wrenched it to the left. His neck snapped like dry wood.
Recovering his knife, Tenaka wiped it clean and replaced it. He scanned the clearing. All was silent.
‘Nadir we,’ he whispered closing his eyes.
‘Shall we go?’ asked Renya.
Puzzled, he took her arm, gazing down into her eyes.
‘What is the matter with you? Do you want to die?’
‘No,’ she said absently.
“Then why did you just stand there?’
‘I don’t know. Shall we go?’