Cazio shrugged. "I don't care who rules. They can put a pig on the throne as far as I'm concerned. But I'll have Austra back, and I need to kill Hespero."

"Kill the Fratrex Prismo of the Church? I'll be interested to see how you do that."

"I've met them that seemed immortal and unbeatable before," Cazio said. "Most of them are dead now, or might as well be."

"That's it, then? You're really going to Eslen?"

He nodded. "If I can impose on you for a few horses."

"Of course," she replied. "Do you have a plan for getting into the city?"

"No," he said. "But I'll have one when I need one."

He rode out the next day with Austra in the carriage and three spare horses. He didn't bother to find z'Acatto to say good-bye.

[image]

The road took him west across the flat yellowing gra.s.s of the Mey Ghorn plain. Clouds scudded across the sky like fast ships until near sundown they piled up and blotted out the stars. The air was wet and cool and smelled like rain when he went to where Austra lay and fed her some porridge and watered wine. She seemed thinner.

"The Sefry will know what to do," he a.s.sured her. "Mother Uun will have a cure."

The rain came gently enough, and he lay there listening to it on the canvas until sleep at last folded him into her blanket.

He woke to the morning songs of birds and realized that the sun was well up and he had lost time. He felt guilty for sleeping at all when every bell counted. He gave Austra her morning meal and ate a bit of dried meat. He found the horses grazing and brought them back to the harness. He settled onto the seat and started out.

It had been a long time, he realized, since he had been alone, his time in the wine cellar at Dunmrogh aside. He wasn't technically alone now, but for all intents and purposes he was. He'd once spent a good deal of his time solitary, and he understood now how much he missed it.

What sort of man am I? he wondered. Anne was dead. Austra was well on her way to joining her. And yet, somehow, part of him was excited to be in the quiet of his own thoughts, with no one questioning him, with nothing to do but watch the road. he wondered. Anne was dead. Austra was well on her way to joining her. And yet, somehow, part of him was excited to be in the quiet of his own thoughts, with no one questioning him, with nothing to do but watch the road.

"Anne is dead," he murmured aloud. He remembered his first sight of her, bathing in a pool in the wilds around the Coven St. Cer. She had become so completely a part of his life, that the thought that he would never see her again seemed not only wrong but fundamentally impossible. They had survived so much together, and for what? For her to die now? Had any of it been worth it?

But of course, no matter what one survived, death was always coming. There was no winning that game.

By noon the road was winding gently downhill, and the occasional malend could be seen turning its sails in the distance. He stopped to feed and wash Austra and let the horses go to water. He was just about to start off again when riders appeared on the road ahead.

He looked about, but it was all open fields. If they were enemies, there wasn't much he could do.

Oddly enough, the impression he had was that the horses he saw were mounted by giant mushrooms, but as they drew nearer, he saw that they were Sefry, wearing their customary broad-brimmed hats to keep the sun from their dainty skins.

When they were even nearer, he recognized their colors as those of Anne's Sefry bodyguard.

He watched them come, wondering what they could possibly be up to. Having failed their mistress, were they now on their way to cast themselves into the eastern sea?

He counted forty of them and wondered why he bothered to do that. Weren't these friends? If they were, why did he have such a strange feeling in his belly's abyss?

And why were they flanking him?

He drew the horses to a halt. One of the riders came forward and pulled down the gauze that hid most of his face, revealing Cauth Versial, the leader of Anne's guard.

"Cazio," Cauth said. "Fancy meeting you here."

"Yes," Cazio replied. "Fancy it."

"You've heard the news?"

Cazio nodded, noting from the corner of his eye that the Sefry were continuing to surround him.

"It was a terrible shock."

"I would imagine," Cazio said. "To have the person you were supposed to be protecting murdered in plain sight with you all around her. How could that happen?"

"I'm sure if you had been there, things would have gone differently," Cauth said.

"I'm sure of that, too," Cazio said.

"Austra is in the wagon, I take it."

"Why would you think that?"

Cauth sighed. "Time is short," he said. "I won't waste it bantering with you. I've seen you fight, and I imagine you'll probably kill a few of us if you choose to, but there's no reason it should come to that."

"Why should it come to that?"

"It shouldn't. We've come to escort you to Eslen."

"How nice. I was going there anyway. But why do I need an escort?"

"The city is under siege. You'll need our help to get in."

"But why are you interested in helping? I suppose is my real question."

"We're not," Cauth said. "Austra is our concern. Whether you're there or not is immaterial."

"What do you want with Austra?"

"That's nothing to concern yourself about."

"Oh, I'm very much concerned."

Cauth started to say something, but then he peered beyond Cazio, and his face wrinkled in what seemed to be chagrin.

"Not traveling alone, after all," he said.

Cazio turned and saw, on the hill, a line of pikemen forming up.

"Z'Acatto," he murmured.

"Come along," Cauth said, drawing his sword. Cazio drew Acredo, noticing as he did so that six archers had arrows aimed at him.

"We'll go up the hill and talk to your friends," Cauth said. "We'll explain that there's no need for a fight, yes?"

"If you insist," Cazio said.

"Don't forget that Austra will be here, with my men."

"I won't."

He marched up the hill with the Sefry. Z'Acatto watched them come, sitting a gray stallion in front of his men.

"I didn't ask for your help," Cazio shouted once they were in earshot.

"No, you didn't," the old man said. "And I wasn't planning to give it. I told the men I would get them to Eslen, that's all."

"Good, then."

"Who are your friends?"

"Anne's old guard," he replied. "They've kindly offered to escort me to the castle."

"Well, good," z'Acatto said. "Then you're well off my hands."

Cazio nodded. "How was the wine? Did you drink it yet?"

"Not yet," z'Acatto said. "It's not the right time."

"I'm not sure there's going to be a better one."

"You just want a taste of it."

"I won't deny that," Cazio said. Then he spun and punched Cauth in the jaw, drew Acredo, and threw himself flat as arrows whirred overhead.

They want Austra alive, he thought, praying he was right, knowing in his bones this was the best choice.

With a roar the pikemen started down the hill.

CHAPTER SIX.

BRACKEN H HOPE.

FEND DIDN'T HAVE much of his army left, either. One of the Vaix stood behind him, favoring an injured leg. Of monsters, Aspar saw only a greffyn, a wairwulf, and two utins. much of his army left, either. One of the Vaix stood behind him, favoring an injured leg. Of monsters, Aspar saw only a greffyn, a wairwulf, and two utins.

That was still likely to be more than he could kill, but he was ready to try. "I told you you were going to need my help," the Sefry said.

"Yah, thanks," he said, nocking an arrow to the string of the unfamiliar bow.

The wairwulf and the utins were fast, though, moving in front of Fend before he could aim.

"Aspar," Fend called. "If you manage to kill me here or, more likely, if I kill you, what happens to Winna, to your child, to your precious forest? I'll tell you. That knight of Gravio and his twenty men are going to catch her. Probably they'll kill her. Whoever sent them-and I'll bet my other eye that it was Hespero-doesn't have any interest in bringing a new Briar King into the world, not until they've taken the sedos throne and hold sway over everything. You and I have the same interest, Aspar."

"I doubt that."

"Doubt it if you want; my offer to help still stands. I can find the Vhenkherdh; you know I don't need you for that. And yes, I'd love to kill you now, but then I would have one less man-or monster, which is more what you are-to go up against this knight with. We need each other. We can settle our differences afterward, don't you think?"

Aspar stared into Fend's single eye, remembering the sight of Qerla's dead body, remembering the last time they had been in the valley of the Briar King.

He had never hated the Sefry more, but the geos wouldn't let him fire.

"Let's stop b.l.o.o.d.y talking, then," he snarled, lowering the bow. "Let's go."

Stephen and Zemle floated in the grip of the Vhelny, which, now that Stephen had gentled it, was soft, firm, almost velvety. He had determined that the demon's limbs were more like tentacles than arms. It was still obfuscated from the examination of Stephen's senses; no power he had or command he could give would lift that apparently ancient magic and reveal the creature's true appearance. It was a subtle thing that would take time and perhaps more power to overcome.

He was happy that the cloud that concealed the Vhelny had no effect on his own vision, however, as they drifted through the delicate layers of clouds and the vista below revealed itself.

Directly beneath his feet Eslen castle pointed towers up at him like whimsical lances. About that were the tiers of the city and the long, green island of Ynis, held all around by the two mighty rivers and a thousand neat ca.n.a.ls stretching off toward the horizon.

And along the banks of those rivers, beside those ca.n.a.ls, were fires, tents, and tens of thousands of men.

West across a great bay, beyond an awesome many-toothed wall, the Lier Sea was thickly jeweled with ships for as far as he could see.

"Eslen," Zemle breathed.

"Have you been here before?" he asked.

"Never."

"Nor have I."

That wasn't exactly true. He had never been to this this Eslen, but he remembered an earlier, much smaller one, little more than a hill fort, really, a tiny place trying not to be crushed by giants, its little leaders capering to his will. Eslen, but he remembered an earlier, much smaller one, little more than a hill fort, really, a tiny place trying not to be crushed by giants, its little leaders capering to his will.

Now it was quite splendid, though. He could hardly wait to see the royal scriftorium. Who knew what precious texts it might hold, unappreciated for millennia?

But first things first.