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by Unknown


  Galdra squeezed his hand. “Lock the door, Pell. I think you should.”

  Pellaz nodded. He rose from the bed and went to turn the key. Then he picked up the wine flagon and returned to the bed. Galdra was undressing beside it, his hair startlingly pale against his tanned skin. His body looked so much like Cal's it was uncanny: lean and sculpted and perfect. Pellaz pressed his cheek in the hollow between Galdra's shoulder blades. He curled his arms around that warm body from behind and inhaled deeply. The smell of a har, so beautiful, like soft, sunlit fur. “Take me back,” Pellaz said.

  Pellaz woke before dawn after only three hours' sleep. He slid from the bed without waking Galdra, his mouth full of the sour taste of the previous night's wine. When he stood up, his head reeled a little. He'd drunk too much and was still affected by it. His body would take a couple of hours to detoxify. As he put on his shirt he gazed at Galdra, who appeared deeply asleep, his thin, finely-drawn lips slightly open, his tangled hair spread out about his head. All night, Pellaz had been soume; he had craved to be, which he knew was unlike him. Now, before the sun rose, he should leave, return to Abrimel's house, before Vaysh and the rest of the household got out of bed. Yet he could not leave without kissing those fine lips one more time. As he leaned over the bed, Galdra stirred and opened his eyes.

  “It's time,” Galdra murmured. “The day is here. It will begin now. Everything.”

  “I know,” Pellaz said. He put his mouth against Galdra's own and Galdra pulled him down beside him, kicking aside the blankets. “Touch me,” Galdra said, a whisperered message in Pell's head.

  Pellaz drew back and gazed into Galdra's eyes as he caressed him intimately. “You are oceanic,” Pellaz said. “If I put my ear against you, I would hear the sea.”

  “I have wanted this all night,” Galdra said.

  “You should have said so.”

  Galdra smiled. “No, you needed something. It doesn't matter. Do you have time for this?”

  “I don't care whether I have or not. I'm staying a little longer.”

  Galdra rolled onto his back, pulled Pellaz on top of him. “I will fight for you, Pell, in both senses. I know now I have a chance.”

  “It should have been you in Ferelithia.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” Pellaz ran his fingers through Galdra's hair. “I am told this experience can be overwhelming. Essence of Tigron, essence of Thiede.”

  “I would be disappointed if it wasn't. Let go, Pell. Don't hold back. Give in to it. I can take it.”

  “There are some mistakes I won't make twice,” Pellaz said. “Don't tempt me.”

  “I'm not sure what you mean.”

  Pellaz merely smiled. “Relax, Galdra. Open yourself to me.”

  Vaysh was already up by the time Pellaz reached the house. He had clearly roused the staff, because the bustle of activity could be heard from every room, as the last preparations for leaving were made. Vaysh met Pellaz in the entrance hall, but although Pellaz tensed himself for a barrage of questions or accusations, Vaysh did not ask where he'd been. “Abrimel is still missing,” he said. “I've had our hara search Imbrilim. Nohar has seen him since the day before yesterday. I have asked Eyra to commit his Listeners to a search.”

  “You've been to Eyra already?” Pellaz said. “Vaysh, it's barely even light!”

  “Aren't you concerned? Ponclast might have taken him, as he took the Parasilians. Yet nohar seems that bothered. Well, I am.”

  “Why would Ponclast want Abrimel?”

  Vaysh pursed his lips. “The son of the Tigron should be of prime importance, surely? There's something wrong if he's not.”

  “Abrimel opted out of family and political life,” Pellaz said. “It was his decision. We have never been close. If he's disappeared now, it's because he has no interest in what's going on. Also, he doesn’t like being around me.”

  “We shouldn't leave here until we know where he is.”

  Pellaz sighed. “You do as you please, but I cannot. If you really want to remain here, Attica can take on your duties as personal aide to me temporarily. You must instruct him.”

  “I might do that. I could catch you up. My sedu can use the otherlanes to do so.”

  “If that is what you wish.”

  “I hope my fears are ungrounded, but I feel uneasy.” Vaysh paused. “You might as well tell me the truth. The strange mood you've been in: it's the Freyhellan, isn't it?”

  “I don't want your judgements.”

  “I won't give them. It's not a bad choice.”

  “There's no choice involved,” Pellaz said. “It's aruna, that thing we need, remember? It's nothing more than that.”

  “As long as you're happy about it. I don't want there to be another episode like Rue.”

  “This is not another Rue episode. Give me credit for some sense, Vaysh.”

  “I'm surprised, that's all, given the way you feel and the rumours that have been circulating, which I presume you've heard. Will you talk to me about it?”

  “There's not much to say. Look, I must start preparing myself for the journey. Stay here if you wish and search for Abrimel. I don't have much time.”

  “I'll ready your bath. Everything is packed and most of your luggage has been delivered to the livery yard. I've left travelling clothes out for you, which are quite ceremonial. You want to look good as you lead our hara out of Imbrilim.”

  Pellaz touched Vaysh's face. “Thanks. I know it'll all be perfect. You always think of everything.”

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Preparing an army for overland travel is a huge operation. The warriors themselves are the easiest part to manage. What is more complex is the vast infrastructure required to support their needs and the needs of their staff. An army on the move is like a mobile city, and it has to sustain itself.

  The wagon train set off long before the warriors and their leaders, moving slowly with an armed guard around them. No herd animals would accompany them, as it had been decided there were more than enough wild and feral cattle, deer and sheep that could provide meat, although there was a danger that their numbers would be decimated with so vast a company. Hara were appointed to oversee this aspect and to plan hunting parties carefully.

  The only members of the Hegemony who would make the journey were the Tigron, Tharmifex, Velaxis and of course Ashmael, who believed himself to be in charge of everything, and no doubt wished that Tharmifex wasn't involved, as the Chancellor of the Hegemony would probably interfere in many of Ashmael's decisions. Eyra would remain in Imbrilim to relay information, although two of his senior Listeners would be part of Ashmael's support staff. The remainder of the Hegemony stayed in Immanion.

  Back home in Phaonica, Caeru was sick with nerves, because more than one har had intimated subtly that he might end up being Tigron if things went badly. Not that things would go badly, of course. He shouldn’t really worry himself about that.

  Everyhar knew that Cal had gone to Galhea, but further information had been sketchy, seeing as Cobweb and Snake had had to head off into the wilderness. Caeru wished that Cal would simply turn up at Phaonica as if nothing had happened. If it came to the point where he had to become like Cobweb and adopt a different role, he'd go mad. It just wasn't in him. Fond memories of Ferelithia haunted his dreams. He had summoned his Kamagrian friend Katarin to Immanion, who he'd known when she'd been human and who had stood by him during the bad years with Pellaz. She now worked for Opalexian, and no doubt the Kamagrian needed her out in the world, gathering information for them, but Caeru didn't care. He needed her more. He needed a familiar face around him.

  Katarin arrived in the evening, dusty with travel, and met Caeru on his terrace. She spoke of Pell's sister, Mima, and how everyone in Shilalama feared for the Tigron. “Lend me a sedu,” she said. “I should go to Megalithica.”

  “That is not going to happen,” Caeru told her. “I need you, Kate.”

  “I know. I'm here.” Katarin embraced him for some moments, t
hen drew away. “How's the mood in the city?”

  “Tense. What can we say to our hara? We don't know anything. I have nightmares of the Varrs killing everyhar in Megalithica and stealing our sedim. I have dreamed of them pouring out the sky to bring ruin to Immanion. It's not beyond possibility.”

  “You'd have some warning,” Katarin said, which didn't help at all.

  “We transmit cheerful propaganda about how well things are going in Imbrilim, but for the Ag's sake, these are hara we're trying to bamboozle, not humans. It doesn't work the way it used to for human governments. Hara sense the truth, and it simply breeds more distrust and anxiety.”

  “Then tell them the truth.”

  “The Hegemony fears it would induce panic. Hara might flee the city while they can. We wish to avoid that. We want to keep things calm here. More sedim arrived the other day. Stablehara just went to work one morning and found the empty stalls full again. We don't know where they came from. They are mulish. They just stand there looking splendid, full of mystery. Who sent them?” Caeru wrung his hands together. “If they are here, does that mean the ones in Megalithica are in danger? Will we need replacements? What good is that? If the sedim know what's going on, why don't they help us properly? Ag, I'm shivering!”

  “Sit down,” Katarin said. “I'll get your staff to bring us drinks. Also, I'm starving.”

  “Sorry, I should have ordered you something.” Caeru sat down at his table.

  “You stay here,” Katarin said. “I won't be a moment. Tonight, whatever the future holds, we will get drunk together and not think about it.”

  “OK.” Caeru smiled shakily and watched her leave the terrace. The evening air was full of the scent of lilies and the tang of the ocean. It reminded him of home. He began to weep.

  Whatever intentions Pellaz had had to keep Galdra har Freyhella at a distance during the journey to Fulminir, they came to nothing. The fact was that he found strength in Galdra's steady and serene support. Galdra made no demands; he was easy to be with. He was discrete until it no longer mattered, and even then kept his own counsel.

  On the morning that he left Imbrilim, Pellaz went with Attica to the gathering point outside the town where all the highest ranking hara would meet to begin the march northwest. The atmosphere among the pavilions, which were all in the process of being dismantled, was close and tense. The air smelled of turned earth, because the ground had still not dried out from the recent rain. It smelled of manure and crushed grass. The sky was overcast, the air warm and humid. Few hara were speaking, perhaps because many of them were still affected by whatever last minute celebrations they'd indulged in the night before. Pellaz wore ceremonial armour that appeared light and insubstantial, as if crafted from mother of pearl, but which was in fact very durable. Over it, he wore a long cloak of dark green fabric. His hair was plaited tightly down his back. A warrior held Peridot's bridle as Pellaz swung up into the saddle. All the sedim were harnessed. They were war horses now.

  Around the Tigron, leaders of other tribes were also mounting up. The majority of them had been given sedim, although the creatures had been given private instruction by their Gelaming handlers that if a situation looked dire, they must take their passengers to safety via the otherlanes. An abundance of leaderless tribes was not a viable prospect, in the Hegemony's opinion.

  Pellaz gathered up the reins and gazed about him. There was Ariaric, Archon of the Maudrah, surrounded by leaders of lesser Jaddayoth tribes: Mojag, Garridan, Natawni and Gimrah. Lianvis of the Kakkahaar was nearby with Herien and Rarn. Heron har Sulh was next to Ormelte of the Colurastes. And there was Galdra, like a warrior from myth, wearing wolfskin, his hair in braids, hanging over his chest. For the briefest moment, Pellaz caught a tang of Galdra's scent, imagined the feel of his skin. Then the image shattered as Pellaz laid eyes on a vaguely familiar har mounted on a huge black horse, rather than a sedu, and realised it was Spinel of the Irraka, which had been a small-time and rather feckless tribe that Pellaz and Cal had run into many years before. Pellaz hadn't even known the Irraka still existed, never mind that they'd joined the alliance. He caught Spinel's eye and signalled a greeting. Spinel stared back for a moment, as if he'd been punched, then cautiously returned the gesture.

  Ashmael rode through the crowd, accompanied by Tharmifex and Velaxis. He brought his sedu up alongside Peridot. “Well, Tigron,” he said, in a clipped voice. “Are you ready to lead your hara?”

  “You will allow me to do that?”

  “It'll create a good impression leaving Imbrilim. You always look first-rate in a procession.”

  “Why, thank you, general. You flatter me.”

  Ashmael grinned savagely and turned his sedu away towards his elite guard.

  “Are you ready, Pell?” Tharmifex asked.

  “Is everyhar else?”

  “More or less. We might as well make a start.”

  Pellaz leaned forward and patted Peridot's well-muscled neck. “Well, old friend. This is it. Lead your brethren with pride.”

  The sedu threw up his head and walked forward. The crowd parted to let him through. Velaxis and Tharmifex rode behind and Ashmael's guard fell in behind them. Before they even reached the end of the pavilions two sedim came cantering between them. They bore Terez har Aralis and Raven Jaguar. Pellaz felt his eyes mist and blinked quickly. Emotions were running high today. “You were supposed to stay in Immanion,” he called. He didn't need to point out why. Everyhar knew he regarded Terez as his closest heir, despite what other hara might think on the matter.

  Terez brought his sedu up beside Peridot. “This is where I should be.” He reached out and clasped hands with his brother.

  “I am glad you're here,” Pellaz said, “although it is reckless of you.”

  “I'm a survivor,” Terez said. “You know that.” He and Raven joined Tharmifex and Velaxis, riding four abreast.

  As they reached the end of the pavilions, the sun broke through the clouds. Every resident of Imbrilim, human and har alike, had gathered alongside the main highway to watch the army leave. The crowd of onlookers went on for miles. Some threw flowers and others held censers of burning incense. Some of them sang. Yet more stood in silence, harlings in their arms. Groups of hienamas from several tribes uttered blessings and called upon dehara light and dark to add their strength to that of those now riding into the unknown.

  About a mile from Imbrilim, a force of two hundred or so riders was spotted, approaching at speed from the north. The crowds at the side of the road parted to allow the leader of the new arrivals to reach the Tigron. It was the Kamagrian Tel-an-Kaa, and she had brought others with her.

  Pellaz was astonished by her appearance, because he had never seen her in any guise other than the one she habitually employed while seeking out stray Kamagrian around the world, when she generally pretended to be a human female. Then, she was a waif-like gypsy creature, dressed in colourful skirts and adorned with clanking trinkets. Now, she was more like one of Ashmael's warriors, a harder edge to her bearing as well as her clothing of close-fitting leather.

  “I haven't brought you much,” she said to Pellaz, “but I rounded up as many of our best agents in the area as I could before coming to you. I'm sorry I'm late.”

  “You're most welcome,” Pellaz said, eyeing the rather fearsome looking collection of parazha behind Tel-an-Kaa. “Does Opalexian know of your... recruitment?”

  Tel-an-Kaa grinned. “I had no time to tell her. I obeyed an impulse. We are ready, tiahaar. It is time Wraeththu appreciated that Kamagrian are not afraid to face whatever dangers lie ahead.”

  “I can see that,” Pellaz said, and leaned from Peridot to embrace Tel-an-Kaa briefly. “We are glad you're here.”

  “Then, let's ride,” she said, and signalled to her parazha to move on. “We'll find a place in the line. I'll speak to you later.”

  As the tribe leaders left Imbrilim, so their warriors followed, a seemingly endless procession of hara. So great a force. How could Ponclast r
esist it? He'd made no strikes on Imbrilim recently. He'd made no apparent preparations. Nohar knew what he was thinking, or what his allies were really capable of. There was a clear boundary around Fulminir, and if anyhar crossed it, it invited devastating retaliation from hara who flashed out of the otherlanes. But Swift's forces had been able to survey the area in relative comfort from a reasonable distance. To all intents and purposes, Fulminir went about its daily business as if it were nothing more than a simple Wraeththu settlement. There was no sign of troop training or reinforcements arriving, although hara worked steadily on the walls, throughout the day and night. It was as if they were luring the Gelaming to them, attempting to lull them into a false sense of security.

  For so great a force, making and striking camp was a lengthy process, but by the time the armies reached the designated resting point that night, the domestic staff who had gone on ahead at dawn had already done most of the work. A vast temporary Imbrilim stood in the wild fields, where feral horses roamed. It was much like the original Imbrilim had been, many years ago: a host of pavilions and floating veils. The flags and banners of the tribes cracked in the evening breeze upon high poles, so that hara could easily find their billets. Woodcutters had been to the forests to gather fuel for cooking fires. Meals were being prepared. Sedim and horses churned the fields to mud. It seemed like chaos.

 

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