Dardalion stirred. ‘Ekodas!’ The young priest knelt by the Abbot, taking his hand. Angel moved away towards the barricade.
‘I am here, my friend,’ said Ekodas.
‘It… was all… done in faith, my son. And I can feel the others waiting for me. Summon the living for me.’
‘There is only Vishna.’
‘Ah. Fetch him then.’
‘Dardalion, I…’
‘You wish to be … released from your vows. I know.
‘The woman, Shia.’ Dardalion’s eyes closed and a spasm of pain twisted his features. ‘You are free, Ekodas. Free to wed, free to live … free to be.’
‘I am sorry, Father.’
‘You have nothing to be … sorry for. I sent you down there. I knew your destiny, Ekodas. From the moment she came to the temple there was a bond between you. Know peace, Ekodas … and … the joys of love.’ He smiled weakly. ‘You have done your duty by me, and by the others. Now … fetch Vishna, for time is short.’
Ekodas sent out a pulse and the tall forked-bearded warrior came running from the far side of the hall to kneel beside the dying Abbot. ‘I can speak no more,’ whispered Dardalion. ‘Join me in communion.’
Vishna closed his eyes, and Ekodas knew their two spirits were now united. He made no attempt to join the communion, and waited patiently for it to end. He was holding Dardalion’s hand when the Abbot died. Vishna jerked and groaned, then opened his dark eyes.
‘What did he say?’ asked Ekodas, releasing the hand.
‘If we survive I am to travel to Ventria and found a new temple. The Thirty will live on. I am sorry that you will not be accompanying me.’
‘I cannot, Vishna. It’s gone from me. And, truth to tell, I don’t want it back.’
Vishna stood. ‘You know, just as he died, and flew from me, I felt the presence of the others – Merlon, Palista, Magnic. All waiting for him. It was wonderful. Truly wonderful.’
Ekodas gazed down on Dardalion’s dead face, perfectly still and serene. ‘Farewell, Father,’ he whispered.
The silence beyond the keep was broken by the sound of distant trumpets.
‘The Source be praised,’ said Vishna.
‘What is it?’
‘That is the Gothir signal for withdrawal.’ He sat down and closed his eyes, his spirit flying from the keep. Moments later he returned. ‘A messenger has come from the Emperor. The siege is lifted. It is over, Ekodas! We live!’
At the barricade Angel peered into the courtyard. The Gothir were withdrawing in order, silently and in ranks of three. Angel sheathed his sword and turned to the defenders. ‘I think you have won, my lads!’ he shouted.
Orsa Khan leapt to the barricade and watched the departing soldiers. Swinging to Angel he threw his arms around the gladiator and kissed both his scarred cheeks. The other remaining Nadir surged forward, pulling Angel down and hoisting him to their shoulders, and a great cheer went up.
Watching the scene Miriel smiled, but the smile faded as she gazed around the hall. The dead were lying everywhere. Kesa Khan emerged from the lower stair, leading women and children back to the light. The old shaman approached her.
‘Your father has slain Zhu Chao,’ he said, but he did not meet her gaze. ‘You have won for us, Miriel.’
‘At great cost,’ she told him.
‘Yes, the price was not insignificant.’ The small boy who had followed Angel was beside the shaman, and Kesa Khan reached out and patted his head. ‘Still we have a future,’ said the old man. ‘Without you we could have been dust in the mountains. I wish joy for you.’
Miriel took a deep, slow breath. ‘I can’t believe it is over.’
‘Over? No. Only this battle. There will be others.’
‘Not for me.’
‘For you also. I have walked the futures, Miriel. You are a child of battle. You will remain so.’
‘We shall see,’ she said, turning away from him to see Angel striding towards her. She looked up into his scarred, ravaged face, and the twinkling grey eyes. ‘It looks as though we’ve a little time left after all,’ she said.
‘It certainly seems that way,’ he agreed. Reaching down Angel hoisted the young Nadir boy to his shoulder. The child giggled happily and waved his wooden sword in the air.