Steven Erikson - Forge of Darkness

Then Calat spoke. ‘You were displeased when the Yan Shake assumed responsibility for the Azathanai. I imagine they now regret their presumption.’

She thought back to Caplo Dreem with his airs of superiority, and Warlock Resh’s bludgeoning presence. ‘It would be pleasing to think so, sir. But then, by the Azathanai’s will, their river god was resurrected.’

‘Just so, and from this added injury to their ambitions, Warden, I wager your name has been cursed more than once.’

‘Sir, you imply a taint of cynicism to the brothers and sisters of the cult.’

‘You think me pessimistic by nature, Warden? Perhaps you are right. When Captain Finarra Stone is busy speaking with Mother Sheccanto, take the measure of the Shake. I will value your opinion on their determination.’

‘Sir, I am already of the opinion that Urusander’s Legion will regret antagonizing the Shake.’

‘If they rely upon the neutrality of the Wardens, then indeed they will.’

Shock rippled through Faror Hend and then she nodded. ‘We delivered T’riss to the Shake, sir, it is true. Rather, I did, and so I must bear some responsibility for all that has happened.’

‘Hardly. The Azathanai set out seeking an audience with Mother Dark. She would have managed it sooner or later even if unaccompanied.’

‘But would she have resurrected the river god if she had not encountered the Shake?’

He shrugged. ‘That we will never know. We deceive ourselves if we imagine that we proceed through life with any semblance of control over what is to come, and we should be thankful for the humility. For if it had been otherwise, if indeed every event in history were guided by our hands, then we have long since relinquished any claim to virtue. Every triumph we might weigh would be little more than a redressing of scales to answer our own crimes in the past.’ He gestured, as if dismissing not only his own words, but all of history and its host of sordid truths.

‘Sir, when I depart the monastery, will Spinnock Durav remain with the captain?’

‘Spinnock Durav will be riding with me to the Sea of Vitr, Warden.’

‘Oh. I see.’

He studied her. ‘Observe well the likely failure of my intercession, Faror Hend, and consider for yourself the crimes your loss of control shall force upon not just you, but many others.’

She felt herself grow cold and was unable to respond.

Calat Hustain looked away. ‘Dismissed,’ he said.

Faror Hend stepped out back into the main hall, her thoughts in turmoil. She saw her captain seated in her place at Spinnock’s side. The thought of joining them sickened her. This is Finarra’s work. She’s spun lies in Calat’s ear. Spinnock needs no mothering from you, captain, and by age alone you are a poor meet to his challenge.

Fury warred with shame in her. And now I must ride with you, obedient at your side. I am no child to be so curbed, and one day I will show you all the truth of that.

Glancing up, Finarra Stone caught Faror’s eye. The captain rose and approached.

‘Our mounts are being readied, Warden,’ she said.

‘Very good, sir. I will see to my kit.’

‘There is a pallor to your cast,’ Finarra said. ‘Are you unwell?’

Faror shook her head. ‘No sir.’

The captain ventured a faint smile. ‘I dread to think that the substance of the message you are to deliver to the Hust Legion has so stolen the life from your face.’

‘No sir, although I will admit that we seem caught upon a current-’

‘And see naught but rocks ahead, yes. We have our orders, Warden, and by these we will be guided.’

Faror nodded. ‘Sir, I must see to my kit.’

‘Do not take too long. I will meet you near the gate.’

Finarra Stone watched her Warden set off, and felt some surprise to see the woman studiously avoiding her cousin. She saw Spinnock’s gaze following Faror’s departure from the main hall, and then the young man rose, as if to set out after her. The captain moved forward.

Perhaps Calat had warned Faror away from her cousin. The woman had emerged from her meeting with a ghostly visage and had stood visibly shaken. If there was truth to this supposition, then their imminent journey together would be strained.

‘Spinnock.’

The young Warden turned. ‘Sir. It seems that my cousin is upset.’

‘Not upset,’ she replied. ‘Distracted. We are to leave at once and she must get herself ready.’

‘Ah, of course.’

‘Are you eager to return to the Vitr, Warden?’

He shrugged. ‘It did not top my list of immediate ambitions, sir. I regret no longer being under your command.’

‘We face difficult times, Warden. It may be some while before things return to normal and we can resume our routines. You will be in the care of Sergeant Bered while in the commander’s train.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘You need not worry overmuch. He is a veteran of Glimmer Fate and the shores of the Vitr.’

Spinnock nodded, and then sighed. ‘I will miss you, captain.’

She felt something deep inside rise in answer to his words, and the sensation left her feeling momentarily weightless. She glanced away. ‘Let us hope Bered is better proof to your charms, Warden, than I am.’

Spinnock stepped closer. ‘Forgive me, sir. When I carried you back from the Vitr, ill as you were, well, I never tired of the embrace.’

‘Yet another reason,’ she muttered, ‘to regret my fever. Spinnock, be careful now.’

But he shook his head. ‘I know I am young. Perhaps too young in your esteem. But we-’

‘Enough of that, Warden. This is not the time.’

‘But it is all we have, Finarra.’

The figures moving past them seemed but blurs, like a host of wraiths bound to otherworldly tasks. She dared not meet Spinnock’s eyes, even though she knew that only in them could she right herself and rid her senses of the wheeling vertigo that threatened to take her. ‘It shall have to wait,’ she said. ‘Please, step back. There is proper decorum to consider.’

He did so, with a half-smile. ‘I do not regret my impulse, sir. At least now you know my feelings.’

And here I thought to seduce Faror, and find for Spinnock another woman’s arms. Confusion roiled in her and yet she felt almost drunk. ‘Be safe, Warden, and we shall one day resume this conversation.’

‘In private, I hope.’

‘That,’ she allowed, ‘would be best.’

Out in the compound, she paused, drawing deep, steadying breaths. She recalled little of that ride through the night, as Spinnock bore her back to the fort. Had he spoken to her? Cajoled her to keep her from slipping away? She had been bound to him, knotted by leather straps. She remembered the heat coming from him, and the sweat between them. He would have felt her against him, her breasts, her belly; even her arms had been drawn round his waist.

Warden Quill came up to her. ‘Sir, your mounts are saddled, equipped and waiting.’

‘Thank you,’ she replied. ‘Warden.’

‘Sir?’

‘You ride in Bered’s troop, yes? Good. I trust you have been informed that young Spinnock Durav will be with you.’

‘Indeed, sir.’

‘The commander thinks highly of him, Quill.’

The man nodded. ‘I will keep an eye on him, sir.’

‘Be not so obvious as to embarrass him.’

‘I have already known his company at the games table, sir, and would count him a friend.’

‘Oh. Of course.’

Quill smiled. ‘I will be guarding his left side, sir, with Stennis on his right.’

‘Very good. Thank you.’

She set off for the horses. Now, Spinnock, I’ll have my legs round you yet. As for you, Faror Hend, you have a husband in waiting, and too many crimes to cross to ever lie with your cousin. Even Calat sees the temptation in your eyes.