Steven Erikson - Forge of Darkness

He shook his head. ‘Such a faith reveals in its violence of flesh and spirit a fundamental weakness at its core. If strength must show itself in a closed fist then it is no strength at all.’ He lifted a hand, made as if to punch the shutters of the window behind him, and then lowered it again. ‘You will deliver from me a message to Sheccanto. The Wardens defy the call to pogrom. Furthermore, if the brothers and sisters of the old orders should find need for assistance, they need only request it and we shall answer.’

Finarra blinked. ‘Sir, does that include military assistance?’

‘It does.’

‘Commander, we hear word now that the Legion has assembled against the Deniers and their ilk. Indeed, that Urusander himself has taken to the field.’

Calat Hustain resumed pacing. ‘Once you have delivered my message, captain, you are to send Faror Hend south. She is to ride to the Hust Legion, but avoid Kharkanas.’

‘And her message to Toras Redone, sir?’

‘I will give that to her myself, captain. I cannot risk you knowing the details, since once you have completed your mission at the monastery, you will ride north to intercept Lord Urusander. You will demand an audience with him.’

‘Sir, if they deem us their enemy then I may well be arrested.’

‘This is possible, captain, if all military propriety is dispensed with, and I admit I am no longer as confident in the upholding of such rules as I once was.’ He eyed her. ‘I understand the risk to you, captain.’

‘What do you wish me to ask Lord Urusander?’

His mouth twisted slightly at the honorific. ‘Ask him: what in the name of the Abyss does he want?’

‘Sir?’

‘For all his flaws,’ Calat said, ‘Urusander is not a religious man. His obsessions are secular. Has he lost control of his Legion? I begin to wonder. Thus. I will know from him his intentions.’

‘When do you wish us to leave, sir?’

‘Immediately.’

‘Sir, given the nature of my message to Mother Sheccanto, is it wise for you to relinquish your command here, even for a short time?’

‘I will know the truth of the new threat posed by the Vitr,’ he replied. ‘I will see for myself what remains of this dragon.’

She heard the faint scepticism in his tone and glanced away. ‘Sir, for what it is worth, I do not doubt a word of Sergeant Bered’s report.’

‘And the Azathanai?’

‘A sword and a woman’s armour were found beside the carcass, sir. Faror Hend has examined them and judges both well suited to the Azathanai.’

Calat Hustain sighed, and then shook his head. ‘I will see for myself. In the meantime, Ilgast Rend will command here, with the able assistance of Captain Aras.’

This detail still left Finarra with a sour taste in her mouth. Ilgast Rend was not a Warden. Even more disturbing, he had ridden in with Hunn Raal, only to become ensconced at Calat’s side for the past few weeks.

‘Find Faror Hend, captain, and send her to me. Ready your mounts.’

‘Yes sir.’

She stepped out into the main hall of the longhouse and into the midst of Wardens and servants rushing to and fro. The faint touch of panic among her comrades was disturbing, and she began to comprehend something of Calat Hustain’s unease: his evident disequilibrium. Were there Deniers among the Wardens? Fanatic worshippers of Mother Dark who would shed no tear at the slaughter of non-believers? Even here, she realized, this war could tear friend from friend, brother from sister.

Finarra saw Spinnock and Faror Hend seated at the far end of the long table dominating the hall. They were drawn close together, presumably to better hear each other through the cacophony as the rest of the table was being used by Wardens laying out the trappings of their armour for one last inspection. Finarra could see how Faror Hend had positioned herself to ensure that there would be incidental contact between her and her cousin. A spasm of resentment rushed through the captain, which she struggled to shake off.

Perhaps Calat Hustain had seen what she herself had seen. He had been explicit in telling her that he was taking Spinnock Durav with his company on their expedition to the Vitr. And he was sending Faror onward, down to the Hust Legion. But avoiding Kharkanas, where her betrothed is likely to be. A curious detail. I wonder what it means.

She made her way over to them. Was that a flash of guilt in Faror’s eyes when she looked up?

‘Sir.’

‘The commander wishes to speak with you, Faror.’

‘Very well.’ She rose, nodded cautiously to her cousin, and then made her way from the table.

Finarra pulled out the vacated chair and settled in it. ‘Spinnock, it seems you are to return to the Vitr without us.’

‘Sir?’

‘Your cousin and I are being sent elsewhere. It may be some time before we see each other again.’

The young man’s face displayed disappointment, but she saw no guile in that expression: no hint of darker regrets quickly hidden. Was he truly blind to his cousin’s unnatural attentions? ‘It would seem,’ she said, ‘that Calat Hustain no longer considers you a raw recruit, Spinnock. You are well measured by your deeds in saving my life, and it would not surprise me to hear of your promotion in rank before too long.’

His only response to that was an enigmatic smile.

Calat Hustain said, ‘It is my understanding that your betrothed rode with Sharenas Ankhadu to Kharkanas.’

Faror Hend nodded. ‘So I have been told, sir.’

‘In his zeal to discover your fate at the Vitr, Kagamandra Tulas revealed the virtues for which he is well known.’ The commander eyed her. ‘In failing to cross paths, Warden, you have missed an opportunity.’

She frowned. ‘I would not think it the last, sir.’

‘That does not help me now, however. Does it?’

It took a moment, but then she understood him. ‘Sir, my betrothed was elevated and now counts himself a noble.’

‘But he began as a captain in the Legion.’

‘Yes sir. He did.’

‘Then where, I wonder, does his loyalty lie?’

‘Perhaps, sir, Lord Ilgast Rend could better offer an opinion on that matter.’

‘You will ride with your captain to the Yannis Monastery, Warden, where she will deliver a message on my behalf. Immediately thereafter, you will part ways with her and ride to the Hust Legion encampment. While I have no doubt that Commander Toras Redone remains loyal to Mother Dark, it does not necessarily follow that she now sends her soldiers against Deniers. You will ascertain her stance and then return to me.’

‘Yes sir.’ It struck Faror, suddenly, that in Calat Hustain and his wife, Toras Redone, she saw a possible fate for her and Kagamandra Tulas. It seemed they knew little of each other and were content to keep it that way. That Calat did not know his wife’s mind on the matter of her faith, and what it might lead her to do with her legion, struck her as pathetic, and, in this instance, potentially disastrous.

‘One last thing,’ Calat Hustain said, ‘you are to bypass Kharkanas. Cross the river well downstream and avoid contact with Legion garrisons or troops.’

She thought back to her commander’s earlier words. ‘Sir, I could seek out my betrothed in the city, if only upon my return from the Hust Legion encampment.’

‘You could, but you shall not. Kharkanas is about to become a web. With an indifferent mistress at its centre, I foresee a convergence of

… males, each one eager for her embrace.’

‘Sir, your analogy invites the notion that whoever wins will end up being devoured… by Mother Dark. This seems an odd victory.’

He grunted. ‘Yes, it does, doesn’t it?’

Neither spoke for a time, until Faror Hend began to wonder if she had been dismissed.