Richard Ford - Lord of Ashes

Something cold touched her forehead, moisture dripping down her temple and into her hair. Kaira’s hand flashed out, grasping a wrist. She heard a gasp of pain before she opened her eyes and squinted in the daylight that glared through an open window.

As her eyes adjusted to the light she saw the sparse details of a room, more a cell than a bedchamber. She was holding tight to a thin arm, squeezing hard, and when she could finally see she realised it was one of the Daughters, her hand still grasping the damp cloth she had used to dab at Kaira’s brow.

She let go and the girl stumbled back. The Daughter of Arlor’s face was veiled but her fear was obvious. Kaira opened her mouth to speak, to tell the girl she was in no danger, but her throat was so parched no words would come. By the time she had cleared her throat enough to speak, the Daughter of Arlor had fled into the corridor.

As she tried to slide her legs over the edge of the bed Kaira winced. She saw her left thigh was heavily bandaged, the pain of it stinging intensely. Memories of battle flooded her mind. Of Amon Tugha, of Janessa … cradling a head of red curls until the welcome dark of unconsciousness took her.

Gritting her teeth, Kaira forced herself to sit. She gripped the edge of the bed as tightly as she was able, taking the pain, swallowing it up along with her grief.

‘You live.’

Kaira looked up at the voice, feeling something burning inside. Samina stood watching from the doorway, her expression giving away nothing of her emotions.

‘And yet I’m not sure why,’ Kaira replied. ‘Did you want the pleasure of killing me yourself?’

Samina smiled and shook her head. ‘Why would I want to kill you? We are sisters, after all.’

‘We are sisters no longer. You have betrayed our city. Our queen. You turned your back on everything we stood for …’

‘Everything we stood for was a lie. You know that, Kaira. Why else would you have walked away from this place when you were welcomed back so readily? The Temple of Autumn had to be born again. Raised anew. And it had to be done in the blood of those who allowed it to become so diseased. The Matron Mother. The Exarch.’

Kaira shook her head. ‘Whose words are these? Are they the words of Amon Tugha?’

Samina threw her head back and laughed. ‘You think this was all about him? You think we gave a damn about the Elharim and his crusade? This was about us. About our order. About making it pure once more. Amon Tugha was a means to an end. Had he not died at the queen’s hand then it would have been someone else’s.’

‘You’re a fool,’ said Kaira, rising unsteadily to her feet, feeling the hot sweat of fever sticking her shirt to her back.

‘Am I? Who stands victorious, sister? Who lives when so many are dead? The Khurtas are fled. The warlord is perished and our queen is no more. A new order beckons.’

Kaira felt her gut tighten at the words. Janessa was dead. She had failed.

‘Forgive me,’ Samina continued, taking a step forward. ‘I knew you were close. Her death was unfortunate … but necessary.’

Kaira held up a hand to stop Samina coming any closer. Her breath came quick between her gritted teeth as she bit back her anger.

‘Necessary? She was your queen.’

‘And she was weak. A child. She would never have held the Free States together.’

‘And who will do it now? You?’

‘I will be amongst those who will strive to keep the provinces united. You could be too, Kaira. You can still join us. You can still save the city, the kingdom.’

‘And if I refuse? I’ll be killed, executed as a traitor?’

Samina shook her head. ‘That was never the fate I would have chosen for you, sister, but there were those who would have forced the issue. It appears they have since had a change of heart, though. If you will not join us, you are free to leave.’ She stepped aside from the doorway.

Kaira limped forward, taking the pain in her thigh, feeling the freshly stitched wound protest with every step. As she reached the doorway she paused, offering Samina a sidelong glance. In that moment she would have given anything for her armour, for a weapon. Wounded as she was they would most likely have served her little, but at least she would have been able to make one last show of defiance.

As though she could sense it, Samina took a further step back out of Kaira’s reach, her hand never straying far from the hilt of the sword at her hip.

Without a word, Kaira limped through the doorway and out of the temple. Bodies lined the great courtyard, Daughters of Arlor kneeling beside them, whispering the last rites. Kaira couldn’t bring herself to look, knowing there were sisters she had known and loved amongst their number. There was nothing she could do now, unless she wanted to add herself to the list of dead.

The wound in her leg continued to burn as she made her way out of the main gates and proceeded north through the city. There was an eerie quiet cast over the streets now. Burned and smashed buildings sat in sorrowful silence as she walked past. Here and there dishevelled souls were scraping through the wreckage of their former homes in a vain attempt to reconstruct their lives. Kaira wished them well; though she was sure they would ultimately see the folly of it.

When she had limped halfway across the city she stopped. Ahead she could see a sorry procession making its way into the Crown District. Kaira could only guess what it was — the grieving masses come to bid goodbye to their queen. To see her lying in state for the last time. They filed in through the gates of the district, some weeping openly, others simply staring at the ground, all hope fled from them.

Kaira knew she should have joined them, should have said her goodbyes, should have begged Janessa’s forgiveness. But what good would it do? The girl was dead and no amount of mournful pleading would bring her back.

She moved on, feeling weariness piling onto her shoulders with every laboured step, but she could not stop. This place was cloying, strangling her, and she would only be free of that feeling once she was out of the city. There was nothing left for her here, no friends, no duty. It was clear now she had been abandoned, even by Vorena herself.

Kaira Stormfall owed nothing to this city, not any more. It had taken everything from her.

By the time she reached the Lych Gate she could hardly walk, but Kaira would not be stopped. Horses milled around the courtyard before the gate and a group of men looked set to leave. As she reached them she recognised a number of faces — the Wyvern Guard — unarmoured, swords and shields tied to their saddles, making ready to return to the Kriega Mountains. They looked odd without their battledress; like any normal band of travellers, if a little broader in the shoulder and arm. When her eye fell on the welcome face of Merrick Ryder, Kaira could barely hold back her tears.

He saw her watching him, offering a smile before walking towards her.

‘You are wounded?’ he asked.

‘I’ll live,’ she replied.

He nodded, a regretful look falling over him. ‘Look, I’m sorry about-’

‘Don’t,’ she said, fighting to stay in control. Her pain and grief were threatening to spill over and were she shown sympathy, especially from Merrick, she thought she might break.

‘Come to see us off then?’ Merrick said, and Kaira was thankful for him changing the subject.

‘No,’ she replied. ‘I am leaving. There is nothing for me here now.’

‘I can understand that,’ he said, glancing up at the ruins that used to be Steelhaven. ‘You could always come with us. We could use a good sword.’

Kaira smiled but shook her head. ‘No. I have served enough for one lifetime. It has brought me only sorrow.’