Glenda Larke - The Heart of the mirage

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Brand glanced at me. I stood, shoulders slumped, in a posture of defeat rather than triumph. My face felt pinched; I knew I looked older, and ill.

'There would have been no honour in what they would have done to the Kardis and the Mirage,' he said gently.

'No. None.'

He took hold of me and began to help me back towards the building. I could hardly walk. 'Will he really go to the Brotherhood, do you think?' he asked.

'Oh yes. Pride won't let him tell his fellow Stalwarts about me, but it won't stop him telling the Brotherhood. It is necessary for his self-esteem that he does so. He must exact his revenge at being bested by a woman, bested by someone he once trusted. Wouldn't you do that if you walked his road?'

He laughed. 'I have my pride, but it doesn't need to be fed by revenge. And as long as I have done my best within the limits of my knowledge and abilities, my pride remains intact. To be bested under those circumstances is not to be shamed. Just as it is no shame to the slave to be enslaved.'

'But to stay enslaved?'

He was still smiling. 'That was my choice. No one would have kept me a slave for very long if it hadn't been my wish. But I think I begin to understand your lack of interest in me as a man up until recently. It had nothing to do with being a "brother", did it? It had more to do with being just a shade contemptuous of a man who allowed himself to be a slave.'

I looked away, shamefaced. 'Perhaps. You are a remarkable man, Brand, and I was both insensitive and blind.'

He nodded in amicable agreement. 'And I was undoubtedly a little stupid. I should have made things clearer long ago. Instead, I waited, and you fell in love with another man.' /

'That would have happened eventually anyway.'

'Because you are both Magor? Yes, you are right. Too bad for me. And now let us change the subject – is what Favonius said true? Are you vulnerable to an arrow in the back?'

'Oh yes. Although I should be able to sense the approach of an assassin.'

'So, are you going to return to Tyrans?'

'Yes. We must get to Tyr before they do. I have to sell my property and secure my money before Favonius or the Legate talks to the Brotherhood and that bastard Rathrox Ligatan has my assets impounded.' I smiled without mirth. 'Otherwise you'll be claiming what is yours from empty coffers, my friend. You will have nothing to get you back to Altan. And I will have nothing to give my son when he is born.'

He made a gesture of dismissal. 'Better you forget your money. Stay here, Ligea. Explain to Temellin. Now that you have turned back the Stalwarts, he will know where your loyalty lies.'

I gave a hollow laugh. 'Ah, I fear I have done my work too well, Brand. Where is the proof the Stalwarts were ever here?'

He turned to point at the remains of the camp, only to have the gesture die half made. Behind us the grass of the plains rippled in the breeze unburnt, unmarked. The discarded weapons and broken gear had vanished. Even the legionnaire graves had been smoothed over, wiped away as if they had never existed.

'Goddessdamn.'

As you say.'

'So what will we do? We can't cross the Alps -'

'No, I know. It would take too long. We will ride south to the edge of the Mirage, cross the Shiver Barrens there, and so on to the coast. To a place called

Ordensa. It's a fishing village near the border. We'll ask a fisherman to take us to Tyr.'

'And he'll do it, just like that? A Kardi, sailing to Tyrans of his own free will?'

I raised my palm to show him my cabochon. 'I am still a Magoria. Any Kardi would be glad to serve me.' We had reached the building, and he opened the door for me. I collapsed gratefully onto my pallet. 'We'll stay here a couple of days so I can rest. Then we'll ride south. Right now, all I want to do is sleep.'

Dusk came early to that part of the plains in the shadow of the mountains, but the twilight was long. Brand and I ate our evening meal sitting on the stoop in the half-light, then – still tired as a result of my use of my cabochon and sword against the Stalwarts four days earlier – I went to my pallet. Brand was pottering around, stoking up the fire, repairing a broken harness, feeding the red-eyed bird. We were intending to make an early start on our ride south to Ordensa the next morning.

I watched him and wondered at the newness of what I felt. A sort of fond affection, something more than what there had been, something less than what I knew was possible. There was no trace of Magorness about him now, and the scar on his stomach was fading. His lovemaking had become a joy to me, smoothing away some of the ache of Temellin's absence. We both knew it would end sooner or later, but the thought worried neither of us. It was something we had for now, it was precious to both of us, but not so absorbing that we would not be able to walk away from it when the time came.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I watched him, and knew he was trying to find the right words to tell me something. I said, 'You still think I should go to him, don't you?'

He looked up, relieved I had been the one to bring up the subject. 'You belong in Kardiastan, Ligea. Look, if you want, I can go to Tyr, alone. You still have your seal and your papers on you. I can carry your instructions to Tyr, with your seal on them. I can pick up what you owe me, I can arrange to have your money transferred here, anything you like.'

I shook my head. 'No. As soon as I'm able, we'll ride for Ordensa – and Tyr.'

'But what of Temellin? Sooner or later he must find out what you have done to the Stalwarts, surely, and then he'll want you – and your son – here, if you'll forgive him for his distrust.'

'Forgive him? I never did blame him!' I turned from him so he could not see my face. 'He will have his son when the time comes.'

'And do you think he will sit quietly in Kardiastan and let you ride away? He's not that sort of man, Ligea. He'll follow you.'

'He can't leave Kardiastan. He is their Mirager, Brand. He is needed here. Anyway, they are about to take on Tyrans. They are about to begin the disintegration of the Exaltarchy; he has more to do than worry about me.' I added for good measure, 'Just as you will have, when you continue the process in Altan one day. And I, too – when I do my part, in Tyrans.' Perhaps I'd be able to forget Temellin in the process, and expiate some of the guilt I felt. Guilt at what I had been, guilt at the evil Solad had done to save me. I had perfected the art of persuading others to betrayal, when betrayal had been the basis of my life, had I but known it. _,

Brand radiated worry. Quite deliberately, of course. 'In Tyrans, you will be alone. Condemned, if they catch you. Stay here. Here at least you'll have power, position. In Tyrans you would be forever on the run, always hiding. Rathrox Ligatan will have your head on a stake at Tyr's main gate if ever he catches up with you.'

I turned back to him, smiling. 'No power, Brand?' I raised my hand and showed him my cabochon. It had already regained much of its colour. 'What of this? What of my Magor sword? I have all the power I need.'

He opened his mouth and then closed it again. Finally he said carefully, 'Er, may I ask just what you are planning?'

'Well, I'd like to have a hand in seeing Rathrox Ligatan gets what's due to him. At one time I would have liked to be Magister Officii, but not now. Why should I aim so low? And what better way of ending slavery, of helping Kardiastan – or even your Altan for that matter – than being the rooster at the top of the midden rather than one halfway down?' It was an idea I had been playing with for some time now, and it had been growing more and more attractive as time went by.

Brand stared, puzzled. Then his jaw dropped. 'Sweet Goddess!'

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