Renya’s childhood had been built on rejection, for she was deformed and could not take part in children’s games. They mocked her lame leg and twisted back and she withdrew into her room . . . and into her mind. Aulin had taken pity on her, giving her the gift of beauty through the machines of terror. But though outwardly she had changed, the inner Renya remained the same – fearful of affection lest it turned on her, afraid of love because it meant opening the heart and removing the defences. Yet love had taken her like an assassin’s blade and she felt tricked. Tenaka had been a hero, a man she could trust. And she had welcomed the blade. Now she found it was tipped with poison.
She could not live with him.
She could not live without him.
The drab tent depressed her and she walked out into the night. The camp sprawled over almost half a mile, with Tenaka’s tent at the centre. Subodai groaned and rolled over as she passed him. ‘Sleep, woman!’ he muttered.
‘I cannot.’
He cursed and sat up, scratching his head. ‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘None of your business.’
‘His wives bother you,’ decided Subodai. ‘Natural for a Drenai woman. Greedy.’
‘It has nothing to do with his wives,’ snapped Renya.
‘So you say! How come he put you out of his tent, eh?’
‘I put myself out.’
‘Mm. You’re a good-looking woman, I will say that.’
‘Is that why you sleep outside my tent? Waiting to be invited in?’
‘Shhh, don’t even whisper it!’ said Subodai, his voice rising. ‘A man could lose his head – or worse. I don’t want you, woman. You are strange, crazy even. I heard you howl like an animal, watched you leap on those dumb Pack-rats. I wouldn’t want you in my bed – I would never sleep for worrying!’
‘Then why are you here?’
‘The Khan ordered it.’
‘So now you are his dog. Sit, stay, sleep outside the tent!’
‘Yes, I am his dog. I am proud to be his dog. Better the hound of a king than a king among jackals.’
‘Why?’ asked Renya.
‘What do you mean, why? Is it not obvious? What is life but a betrayal? We start out young, full of hope. The sun is good, the world awaits us. But every passing year shows how small you are, how insignificant against the power of the seasons. Then you age. Your strength fails and the world laughs at you through the jeers of younger men. And you die. Alone. Unfulfilled. But sometimes . . . sometimes there will come a man who is not insignificant. He can change the world, rob the seasons of their power. He is the sun.’
‘And you think Tenaka is such a man?’
‘Think?’ said Subodai. ‘What do I know of think? A few days ago he was Bladedancer. Alone. Then he took me. A Spear. Then Gitasi. Then Ingis. Then the nation. You understand? There is nothing he cannot do. Nothing!’
‘He cannot save his friends.’
‘Foolish woman. Still you do not see.’
Renya ignored him and walked away towards the centre of the camp. He followed her discreetly, keeping some ten paces behind. This was no hardship, for it allowed him to gaze at her with undisguised pleasure. His dark eyes lingered on her long legs and the subtle swing of her hips. Gods, what a woman! So young and strong. Such animal grace.
He began to whistle, but the sound died in an instant as he saw the tent of the Khan. There were no guards. He ran forward to Renya, pulling her to stop.
‘Don’t touch me,’ she hissed.
‘Something is wrong,’ he said.
Her head came up,,her nostrils catching the scents of the night. But the stench of the Nadir was all around her and she could detect nothing.
Dark shadows moved towards the tent.
‘Assassins!’ yelled Subodai, dragging clear his sword and running forward; the dark shapes converged on him. Tenaka Khan opened the flap of his tent, sword in hand, to see Subodai hacking and slashing his way forward. Tenaka watched him stumble and go down under the swinging blades.