‘I am sorry,’ Kiall told Chareos. ‘I wish I had never asked you to help me. It all seems so futile now. I don’t know why.’
‘We are free men, Kiall. We make our own choices.’
‘I know that,’ said the young man. ‘It is just . . . there is so much savagery. Look at Tanaki. How could men do that to her? I don’t understand.’
‘Be glad that you do not.’
‘Do you?’
Chareos turned away, staring out over the Steppes. ‘Yes, sadly I do. I would never contemplate such a deed – but, yes, I understand it. It is connected with war, Kiall, and the nature of the warrior. He is competitive, and his desire is to dominate and destroy his enemies. But the word to remember is dominate. There is another word to consider also; arousal. A man can be aroused to anger as easily as he is aroused to rut. The two emotions are closely linked. Anger and lust. So the warrior is aroused in battle and fights to dominate. Tanaki, and others like her, are the victims of that. Dominated, abused, humiliated.’
‘They are evil,’ said Kiall. ‘Simply that.’
‘Would that it were so simple. Some of those men will have had wives and children. They might have been good family men; they knew love and compassion in their lives.’
‘I would show them no compassion. I am glad we killed them.’
‘Glad? Never be glad another man has died. Not ever. Just be relieved that you are alive. I had a teacher once, a great man called Attalis. He told me that the path to evil often begins with righteous anger. A Nadir band raid a Gothir village; they rape and kill. A group of Gothir soldiers set out for revenge; they want to hurt the enemy, so they rape and kill. It never ends. Never . . . ever . . . be glad to kill.’
Chareos walked away and stood at the graveside. Kiall left him there and wandered over to Beltzer who was sitting alone. The giant’s face was set, but a muscle twitched in his cheek. His eyes were red-rimmed and he was blinking rapidly.
Kiall sat opposite him. ‘Are you all right?’ asked the younger man.
‘Me? I’m fine. I was just thinking we haven’t eaten. I’m starved.’ His mouth trembled, but he clamped his jaws tight. ‘Stupid old fool,’ he said. ‘Stupid! He killed himself to protect us. Stupid.’ Beltzer sniffed, then hawked and spat. ‘Damned if I’m not getting a chill. It’s this weather; cold winds and dust. Only the Source knows how people live out here. Give me a city any time . . . and taverns. What are you staring at?’
‘I’m sorry,’ said Kiall. ‘I didn’t mean to stare. He had a message for you, you know. He said to say farewell to old Beltzer.’
‘Did he? Truly?’
‘Yes,’ said Kiall, continuing the lie. ‘He didn’t sound unhappy.’
‘You know what the worst thing is, boy? Do you?’
‘No.’
‘He liked me. For myself. Not because I could swing an axe, or kill a few tribesmen. But for me. There’s not much to like, but he found it. And I’ll tell you something – laugh if you like – but I loved that old man. “Old Beltzer”. That’s something, isn’t it? I loved him.’
‘Why would I laugh?’
Tears welled in Beltzer’s eyes, flowing to his cheeks and into the red and silver beard. He bowed his head and wept. Kiall reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder.
‘Get away!’ said Beltzer. ‘Leave me alone. Can’t a man even grieve in private?’
Kiall rose and backed away. Tanaki was awake and sitting in the centre of the camp-site, a blanket round her shoulders. Her eyes were still swollen, but she could see.
Kiall sat beside her. ‘How are you feeling?’
‘You wouldn’t want to know,’ replied Tanaki. ‘Did you kill them all?’
‘Yes. No. There was one man – the leader, I think – he escaped.’
‘Good.’
Kiall was surprised, but he did not press the point. ‘Do you wish to be alone?’ he asked.
She smiled, then winced as her lip split and a tiny drop of blood formed. ‘No. You sit close by, I like your company. Why did you rescue me?’