‘I would worry about you,’ I told her.
‘And I you,’ came her voice in my mind. ‘But let us face it, Owen,
I am a better fighter than you. At least with me there, you’ll have someone to protect you.’It was a compelling argument, and I felt a little ashamed for accepting it. But, in all honesty, I was pleased she was there and, with the threat of death so close, I did not want to miss a single moment of her company.
We walked through most of the morning, halting for a brief lunch just after noon. Then we were on our way again, coming in sight of Ziraccu at dusk. The city was silent, the gates locked. But we could see sentries upon the walls, and I wondered what manner of men could agree so readily to serve the needs of the Undead. Had they no heart, no conscience? What could they have been offered to make them become servants of evil?
But there was no answer to such a question. There never is. The workings of an evil mind cannot be gauged.
We made camp in a hollow and lit a small fire against a south-facing rock-wall, where the light could not be seen from the city. There was little conversation at first, for we all faced our fears in our own way. Ilka, whose talent was growing, could touch the minds of all the company, feeling their thoughts. Raul was thinking about his family and brighter, happier days in the north country. Corlan’s mind was roaming back over all the dark deeds he had committed, while Wulf was remembering his wife and lost children. Piercollo was recalling days of sunshine and grape harvesting in Tuscania, while Mace was quietly planning his route to the central palace.
‘Why do you love me?’ asked Ilka suddenly.
‘You make my soul complete,’ I whispered, drawing her in close to me, feeling her head resting on my shoulder, her lips against the skin of my neck.
‘You are a romantic, Owen Odell. How will you feel when I am old, wrinkled and white-haired?’To arrive at that point will mean that we have walked life together, and I will be content. I will have watched each white hair arrive. That will be enough for me.’And we talked long into the night. I told her of my father and brothers, and of our estates by the south coast. She, in turn, spoke of her life. Her mother had died when Ilka was six and she was raised by Wulfs older brother and his wife. He had died in a
hunting accident, gored to death by a wild bull. After that Wulf had supplied food for the family. Of her rape and mutilation she said nothing, and I did not press her. Better by far, I thought, for those memories to be buried deep, covered by layer after layer of love and friendship.
At last we slept, all save Mace who sat by the fire deep in thought.
Two hours before dawn he woke me and I rose silently, not disturbing Ilka. Mace walked away from the camp-site, climbing a hill and sitting upon a fallen tree, staring out over the walls of the distant city.
‘It will be simple to get in,’ he said. ‘Getting out is an altogether different question.’Let’s worry about that when we’ve killed the Kings,’ I suggested.
He chuckled. ‘You have great faith in our abilities, bard.’Well, I don’t think this is the time to concern ourselves with failure.’True.’ He glanced back towards the camp-site. ‘Why did they come?’I can’t answer for them all. Raul is here because he is a knight and is sworn to fight against evil; also he made an oath to you. Corlan is here because he would not allow Raul to appear superior to him. Ilka came because of me. Piercollo owes you his life, and Wulf loves you like a brother. As for me, why, I also came because of you.’Me? Why?’This may sound trite, Jarek, but I believe in the Morningstar. I always did. It doesn’t matter that you do not. What is important is what they believe,’ I said, my arm sweeping out to encompass the forest. ‘All those people in need of a hero. You are that man, they will remember you all their lives. And, in a thousand years, they will speak of you as they speak now of Rabain. Who knows, one day perhaps there will be an outlaw standing in this forest who will wonder if he is like the Morningstar.’This isn’t a song, Owen. In all probability we’ll die today.’It will still be a song, Jarek. A great song.’I hope you are here to sing it,’ he said, the smile returning. ‘But more important than that, I want to be around to hear it too.’