The stars spun and Miriel found herself looking down at a small campfire in a shallow cave on a mountainside. She saw Waylander sitting hunched before the flames, the hound, Scar, stretched out beside him. Waylander looked tired and she sensed his thoughts. He had been hunted, but had eluded the trackers, killing several. He was clear of Sathuli lands now, and was thinking about stealing a horse from a Gothir town some three leagues to the north.
‘A strong man,’ said Kesa Khan. ‘The Dragon Shadow.’
‘He is weary,’ said Miriel, wishing she could reach out and hug the lonely man by the campfire.
The scene shifted to a city of stone set in the mountains, and a deep dungeon where a large man was chained to a dank, wet wall. ‘You treacherous cur, Galen,’ said the prisoner.
A tall, thin warrior in the red cloak of a Drenai lancer stepped forward, taking hold of the prisoner’s hair and wrenching back the head. ‘Enjoy your insults, you whoreson! Your day is over, and harsh words are all you have now. Yet they will avail you nothing: tomorrow you travel in chains to Gulgothir.’
‘I’ll come for you, you bastard!’ swore the prisoner. ‘They won’t hold me!’ The thin warrior laughed, then bunched his fist and struck the helpless man three times in the face, splitting his lip. Blood flowed to his chin and his one pale eye focused on the red-cloaked soldier. ‘I suppose you’ll tell Asten we were betrayed, but you managed to escape?’
‘Yes. Then, when the time is right, I’ll kill the peasant. And the Brotherhood will rule in Drenan. How does that make you feel?’
‘It should be an interesting meeting. I’d like to be there to see you telling Asten how I was captured.’
‘Oh, I shall tell it well. I shall speak of your enormous bravery, and how you were slain. It will bring a tear to his eye.’
‘Rot in hell!’ said the prisoner.
Miriel felt the close presence of Kesa Khan and the old shaman’s voice whispered into her mind. ‘You know who this is?’
‘No.’
‘You are gazing upon Karnak the One-Eyed, Lord Protector of the Drenai. He does not look mighty now, chained in a Sathuli dungeon. Can you feel his emotions?’
Miriel concentrated, and the warm rush of Karnak’s anger swept over her. ‘Yes. I can feel it. He is picturing his tormentor being killed by a soldier with red hair.’
‘Yes. But there is something else to consider, girl. There is no despair in Karnak, yes? Only anger and the burning desire for revenge. His conceit is colossal, but so is his strength. He has no fear of the chains, or the enemies around him. Already he is planning, building his hopes. Such a man can never be discounted.’
‘He is a prisoner, unarmed and helpless. What can he do?’ asked Miriel.
‘Let us return to the mountains. I am tiring. And tomorrow the real enemy will show himself. We must be ready to face the evil they will unleash.’ All light faded in an instant and Miriel opened the eyes of her body and sat up. The fire in the cave had burned low. Kesa Khan added wood to the dying flames and stretched, the bones of his back creaking and cracking. ‘Aya! Age is no blessing,’ he said.
‘What is this evil you spoke of?’ asked Miriel.
‘In a moment, in a moment! I am old, child, and the transition from spirit to flesh takes a little time. Let me gather my thoughts. Talk to me!’
She looked at the wizened old man. ‘What do you wish me to talk about?’
‘Anything!’ he snapped. ‘Life, love, dreams. Tell me which of the two men you wish to bed!’
Miriel reddened. ‘Such thoughts are not for idle chatter,’ she scolded.
He cackled and fixed her with a piercing gaze. ‘Foolish girl! You cannot make up your mind. The young one is witty and handsome, but you know his love is fickle. The older one is like the oak, powerful and enduring, but you feel his lovemaking would lack excitement.’
‘If you already know my thoughts, why ask me?’