‘It doesn’t matter, lass.’ He turned back to her, his eyes clear and his emotions masked. ‘Tell me what you see in our scarred companion?’
‘I don’t know. That is a difficult question for a woman to answer. Come on, let us get some food.’
Decado, Acuas, Balan and Katan left the group at the camp-site and rode back to the mouth of the valley, pausing to gaze down on the green plain where the Legion were ministering to their wounded. The dead had been wrapped in blankets and tied across their saddles.
‘You did well,’ said Decado, lifting his helm and hooking it over his pommel.
‘It was appalling,’ said Katan.
Decado swung in the saddle. ‘You chose to be a warrior. Accept it!’
‘I know that, Decado,’ answered the dark-eyes priest. He smiled ruefully and rubbed his face. ‘But I cannot revel in it.’
‘That’s not what I meant. You have chosen to fight against evil and you have just won a small victory. The babe back there would now be dead, but for you and the others.’
‘I know that, too. I am not a child. But it is hard.’
The four dismounted and sat on the grass, enjoying the sunshine. Decado removed his white cloak and folded it carefully. He closed his eyes, suddenly aware of a strange sensation like a cool breeze inside his head.
He tried to focus on it and became aware of subtle ebbs and flows within his mind, like the distant echo of rolling waves over shingle. He lay back, drifting and at peace, moving within himself towards the source of the sensation. He was not surprised when the whispering seas became faint voices, and he recognised that of Acuas.
‘I still feel Abaddon could be wrong. Did you sense Decado’s battle-lust as we struck the riders? The force was so powerful it almost infected me.’
‘Abaddon says not to judge.’ This from Katan.
‘But he is the Abbot no longer.’ Balan spoke.
‘He will always be the Abbot of Swords. He must be respected.’ Katan again.
‘It makes me feel uncomfortable,’ pulsed Acuas. ‘Where is his Talent? In all the long history of The Thirty there has never been a leader who could not Travel and Speak.’
‘I think perhaps we should consider the alternatives,’ pulsed Katan. ‘If Abaddon was misled in his choice of the Voice, then that would mean Chaos has mastered the Source. In turn that would negate every other choice Abaddon has made and render us Outside the Destiny.’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Balan. ‘We are all human. Abaddon could have made merely one mistake. He is Source-guided, but so much depends on interpretation. Estin’s death and Decado’s arrival could have been either coincidence or dark design.’
‘Or Source-inspired?’ pulsed Acuas.
‘Indeed so.’
Decado opened his eyes and sat up. ‘What are they planning?’ he asked aloud, pointing to the Legion.
‘They are waiting for the arrival of their army,’ said Acuas. ‘The leader there, a man named Argonis, is telling his men that we will be smoked out of these mountains and destroyed along with every other rebel in Skoda. He is trying to lift them.’
‘But he is not succeeding,’ put in Balan.
‘Tell us of the Dragon, Decado?’ asked Katan and Decado smiled.
‘Days of long ago,’ he said. ‘It seems like another lifetime.’
‘Did you enjoy the life?’ enquired Acuas.
‘Yes and no. More no than yes, I recall. The Dragon was strange. In some way I suppose it created a bond similar to yours except of course that we had no talent and could neither Travel nor Speak as you do. But we were a family. Brothers. And we held the nation together.’
‘You must have been saddened when Ceska destroyed your friends,’ said Balan.
‘Yes. But I was a priest and my life had changed very much. I had my garden and my plants. The world had become a small place indeed.’
‘It always amazed me that you produced so many varieties of vegetable in such a small section,’ said Balan.
Decado chuckled. ‘I grew tomatoes inside potatoes,’ he said. ‘I placed the seedlings in a potato, and while the tomatoes grew upwards the potatoes grew down. I was quite pleased with the results.’