‘He’s certainly a tough old man!’ said Ananais.
Decado said nothing. He had just received a report from Balan, whose talk had been to scout the land over Drenan in order to study the marshalling of Ceska’s main force. The news was not good.
Ceska had wasted no time.
The Joinings were already on the march and there was no way Tenaka Khan could bring a Nadir force to intercept them.
According to Balan the army would be camped by the Skoda valleys in four days.
All Tenaka could do was avenge them, for no force on earth was going to hold the werebeasts of Ceska.
*
Ananais rode into the city, holding himself straight in the saddle though weariness sat upon him like a boulder. He had spent a day and two nights with his lieutenants and their section leaders, informing them of Ceska’s lightning march. Many leaders would have disguised the threat, fearing desertions and loss of morale, but Ananais had never subscribed to that theory. Men waiting to die had every right to know what lay in store.
But now he was tired.
The city was quiet, for dawn was only two hours old, but even so children gathered to play in the street, halting their game to watch Darkmask ride by. His horse almost lost its footing on the shiny cobbles and Ananais pulled up its head and patted its neck.
‘Almost as tired as me – eh, boy?’
An old man, thickset and balding, stepped from a garden to the right. His face was flushed and angry.
‘You!’ he shouted, pointing at the rider. Ananais halted his mount and the man came forward, some twenty children bunching behind him.
‘You want to talk to me, friend?’
‘I am no friend to you, butcher! I just wanted you to see these children.’
‘Well, I have seen them. They are a fine bunch.’
‘Fine, are they? Their parents were fine, but now they’re rotting in the Demon’s Smile. And for what? So that you can play with a shiny sword!’
‘Have you finished?’
‘Not by a damn sight! What is going to happen to these children when the Joinings arrive? I was a soldier once and I know you can’t hold those hell-beasts – they will come into this city and destroy every living thing. What will happen to these children then?’
Ananais touched his heels to his mount and the horse moved away.
‘That’s right!’ yelled the man. ‘Ride away from the problem. But remember their faces – you hear me?’
Ananais rode on through the winding streets until he reached the Council building. A young man came forward to take his horse and Ananais mounted the marble steps.
Rayvan sat alone in the hall staring – as she often did – at the faded mural. She had lost weight in the last few days. Once more she was wearing the chain-mail shirt and broad belt, her dark hair swept back and tied at her neck.
She smiled as she saw Ananais and gestured him to a chair beside her. ‘Welcome, Darkmask,’ she said. ‘If you have bad news, hold on to it for a little while. I have enough of my own.’
‘What happened?’ asked Ananais.
She waved her hand and closed her eyes, unable to speak. Then she took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. ‘Is the sun shining?’ she asked.
‘It is, lady.’
‘Good! I like to see the sun on the mountains, it carries a promise of life. Have you eaten?’
‘No.’
‘Then let us go to the kitchen and find something. We will eat in the tower garden.’
They sat in the shade of a thick flowering shrub. Rayvan had picked up a black loaf and some cheese, but neither of them ate. The silence itself was comforting.
‘I hear you were lucky to escape with your life,’ said Rayvan at last. ‘How is your side?’
‘I heal fast, lady. The wound was not deep and the stitches will hold.’
‘My son, Lucas – he died last night, we had to remove his leg … gangrene.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ said Ananais lamely.
‘He was very brave. Now there is only Lake and Ravenna. Soon there will be no one. How did we come to this, Darkmask, tell me?’