‘Sometimes we want more than we can have.’
‘Don’t say that!’
‘You used to be a seer – a good one. Kabuchek charged two hundred silver pieces for a single reading from you. You were never wrong.’
‘I know all this, you have told me before. What difference does it make now?’
‘All the difference in the world. You were born in the lands of the Drenai, you were taken by slavers. But there was a man . . .’
‘I don’t want to hear this,’ she said, pulling away from him and walking to the edge of the tiny lake. He did not follow, but his words did.
The man was your husband.’ Rowena sat down by the water’s edge, trailing her fingers across the surface, sending ripples through the moon’s reflection.
‘The man with the axe,’ she said dully.
‘You remember?’ he asked, walking forward and sitting beside her.
‘No. But I saw him once-at the house of Kabuchek. And also in a dream, when he lay in a dungeon.’
‘Well, he is not in a dungeon now, Pahtai. He is outside the city. He is Druss the Axeman, Gorben’s champion.’
‘Why are you telling me this?’ she asked him, turning to face him in the bright moonlight.
His white robe shimmered, and he looked ghostly, almost ethereal. ‘Do you think I want to?’ he countered. ‘I’d sooner fight a lion with my hands than have this conversation. But I love you, Pahtai. I have loved you since our first meeting. You were standing with Pudri in the main corridor of Kabuchek’s home, and you told my future.’
‘What did I tell you?’
He smiled. ‘You told me I would wed the woman I loved. But that is not important now. I think soon you will meet your. . . first . . . husband.’
‘I don’t want to.’ Her heart was beating fast and she felt faint. Michanek put his arms around her.
‘I don’t know much about him, but I do know you,’ he said. ‘You are Drenai; your customs are different from ours. You were not high-born, therefore it is likely you married for love. And think on this: Druss has followed you across the world for seven years. He must love you deeply.’
‘I don’t want to talk about this!’ she said, her voice rising as panic flooded her. She tried to rise, but he held her close.
‘Neither do I,’ he whispered, his voice hoarse. ‘I wanted to sit here with you and watch the stars. I wanted to kiss you, and to make love.’ His head dropped, and she saw tears in his eyes.
Her panic disappeared and the cold touch of fear settled on her soul. She looked up-into his face. ‘You talk as if you are going to die.’
‘Oh, I will some day,’ he said, with a smile. ‘Now I must go. I am meeting Darishan and the other officers to discuss tomorrow’s strategy. They should be in the house now.’
‘Don’t go!’ she pleaded. ‘Stay with me a little while . . . just a little while?’
‘I’ll always be with you,’ he said softly.
‘Darishan will die tomorrow. On the walls. I saw it; it was a vision. He was here today and I saw him die. My Talent is coming back. Give me your hand! Let me see our future.’
‘No!’ he said, rising and moving back from her. ‘A man’s fate is his own. You read my future once. Once was enough, Pahtai.’
‘I predicted your death, didn’t I?’ she said, but it was not a question for she knew the answer even before he spoke.
‘You told me about my dreams, and you mentioned my brother, Narin. I don’t remember much of it now. We’ll talk later.’
‘Why did you mention Druss? You think that if you die I will just go to him, and take up a life I know nothing of? If you die, I will have nothing to live for.’ Her eyes locked to his. ‘And I will not live,’ she said.
A figure moved out of the shadows. ‘Michi, why are you keeping us all waiting?’ Rowena saw her husband flinch and glanced up to see Narin striding towards them.