Chrysm Luel was the youngest member of the Hegemony and many hara said that he and Seel could have been brothers. They did look alike, although Seel considered that Chrysm was far too frivolous and disorganised to be worthy of the name Griselming. It was a puzzle to Seel how Chrysm had actually secured a place in the Hegemony, but no doubt it was the result of one of Thiede's strategic friendships. However, out of all of them, Chrysm was the one who noticed when Seel was on the verge of collapse. One afternoon, late in the summer, he virtually hauled Seel out of a ditch in a field, took a spade from his hand and said, 'What the h.e.l.l are you doing, digging like this? You look terrible. Go and rest.'

A large gang of humans and hara were helping to dig, but Seel could only think about how he needed this task out of the way, because there were so many others to attend to, and the best way to get something done was to do it yourself. 'This has to be finished by tonight,' he said, reaching for the spade.

Chrysm laughed and jumped backwards. 'Oh no you don't. Tell you what I'll I'll dig. I'll take your place, when I could be wandering around the meadows composing poetry. See? You've no excuse. Go and sleep.' dig. I'll take your place, when I could be wandering around the meadows composing poetry. See? You've no excuse. Go and sleep.'

Seel sighed and relented. He knew very well that the moment he'd left the area, Chrysm would throw down the spade and wander off, whistling cheerfully, but he was so tired he could perhaps grab a few extra hours sleep. A bath would be nice too.

Back at his pavilion, Seel's staff prepared him a bath and then spent an hour or so pampering his body. Seel relaxed in warm steam and thought about how he actually enjoyed his work in Imbrilim more than running round after Pellaz back home. His life had purpose again now. He liked getting his hands dirty, being involved in actual construction work. As yet, there'd been no sign of Swift the Varr and Seel sincerely hoped he'd fallen into a marsh and drowned, or perhaps Cal had gone mad on the journey and slaughtered his companions. Wishful thinking, even if it wasn't totally unlikely.

Seel wandered into his sleeping quarters and threw himself face down on the bed. He groaned in pleasure. Ah, sweet sleep...

Half an hour later, Arahal was at the threshold. Seel sensed an emergency and was fully awake in seconds. He saw that Arahal appeared troubled. 'What is it?' Seel asked, reaching for his clothes.

'You'd better come,' Arahal said. 'Our scouts have reported the approach of a party from Galhea.'

Seel threw down his clothes again. 'Oh no! f.u.c.k!' He sighed and picked up his trousers. 'Can't you arrange a tragic accident?'

Arahal grimaced, then laughed rather uncertainly. 'I'll wait outside, OK?'

'I meant it,' Seel said as Arahal left the pavilion.

They found one har at the Varrish camp site, which was in a small clearing near a river. The Varr was quickly overpowered and gave them his name: Leef Sariel. Two hara held him on his knees, while Seel began an interrogation. 'Where are they?' he asked.

The Varr spat at him. Seel sighed. He turned away and hunkered down by the meagre fire that the Varr had just built. 'Arahal, search the area.' He did not look at the Varr, but addressed him. 'You should tell us where they are. We'll find them anyway.'

Then he heard a panicked cry from beyond the camp, 'Swift, go back! Go back!'

'Too late,' Seel said softly to himself. He looked up and there he was: Cal. He stood at the edge of the clearing, his hair reddened by the evening sun. He looked exactly how he used to look in the early days. He never changed. He never would. He was more like a physical expression of dark desire and danger than a living har. Seel wondered whether he did in fact want to kill Cal or not. He didn't feel anything, strangely. A younger har stood in front of Cal. He looked terrified and angry, but also brave. Here goes your life, little one, Here goes your life, little one, Seel thought. He stood up and turned his back on them. 'Arahal, take charge.' Seel thought. He stood up and turned his back on them. 'Arahal, take charge.'

Seel walked from the clearing and mounted his sedu sedu. He thought about riding back to Imbrilim, but changed his mind. He wanted to ride just ahead of Cal all the way back. He would be silent and in that silence would be the threat that he held the key to Cal's life in his hand. It looked like iron, but it wasn't. He could snap it in two very easily.

There wasn't much time. Thiede had informed Pellaz of his plans for Swift, and because the House of Galhea was such an important one, both he and Thiede knew that Swift should be greeted by hara of the highest rank. The Gelaming wanted to impress the young Varr and also to make him feel valuable. Pellaz had said that once Swift was at Imbrilim, he wanted to come to Megalithica himself to meet him. Thiede, carefully, managed to get the Tigron to change his mind and suggested he should send the Tigrina instead. Seel knew this was because Thiede didn't want to risk Pellaz running into Cal. Thiede had already told Seel he wanted Cal well out of the way by the time the Tigrina came to Imbrilim. News would be sent to Immanion immediately, but it would not reach the ears of the Tigron or Tigrina for some days. In that time, Seel realised, he had to decide what, if anything, he wanted to do to Cal.

The Varr was an innocent, as Pellaz had been an innocent, but even to a casual observer, it was obvious he was, or would be, a har of substance. Seel could not believe that eventually he'd have to do the things with Swift that Thiede wanted. It seemed unthinkable. Swift didn't know about it yet, but already his mind and feelings were being manipulated. Hardly a marriage made in heaven.

Over the next few days, as Arahal began the preliminary indoctrination of the hapless Swift, Seel noticed the young Varr came looking for him whenever possible. He didn't dare approach Seel directly, but Seel could feel Swift's eyes on him all the time. It felt like burning and was far from unpleasant, surprisingly. Swift was a very handsome creature, slender yet strong, with thick brown hair and the most enormous dark eyes Seel had ever seen. Under normal circ.u.mstances, he wouldn't have objected at all to initiating aruna with a har like Swift, but it made him feel nauseous to imagine what was going on in the young Varr's mind, what Thiede had done to him. Often he wanted to tell him, 'Look, you don't feel these things for me, not really. It's all an illusion', but of course that would oppose Thiede's plan and was therefore impossible. Seel felt real sympathy for the Varr, but slightly despised him because of his tribe and his loyalty to Cal. He also resented him, because if he didn't exist, Seel wouldn't have to go and live in Galhea and start breeding. Thiede sought to make a prince out of a barbarian. It was the sort of task Thiede enjoyed immensely and he would succeed, as he always did. Then the prince will be mine, Then the prince will be mine, Seel thought. Seel thought. Is this real? Is this real?

After a few days, Arahal said to Seel, 'You have to decide what to do with the Uigenna.' He meant Cal. 'He asks for you constantly.'

'He wants my mercy,' Seel said.

Arahal smiled grimly. 'He won't get it. Thiede says we're not allowed to kill him.'

Like many others who were aware of Cal's history, Arahal thought death would be the most merciful option for him.

'Take him away from his companions,' Seel said.

'Where shall we take him?'

'The old human fortress to the south. Take him there.'

'You'll see him, then?'

'Give him the putiri drug. Leave six hara with him, and never let any har remain alone with him. Do you understand?'

Arahal bowed his head. 'It will be so.'

'Where is Swift at the moment?'

'With Ashmael.'

'Don't let him see anything.'

'As you wish.'

In the early evening, Seel rode out to the fortress. He could have reached it in minutes via the otherlanes, but spent an hour making the journey on solid ground. He needed time to think. The fortress was a ruin, and had never been used by Wraeththu, but some of its rooms were still secure.

One of Cal's guards came out into the overgrown courtyard when he heard Seel's horse trot under the gate arch. 'Do you wish to see the prisoner?' the guard asked.

'It's why I'm here,' Seel said. 'Take me to him.'

Seel's mouth was dry as he climbed the dark stairway that led to the room where Cal was confined. He had no idea what he was going to say or how he would behave. It was impossible to make plans in this situation.

The guard opened a door at the top of the stairs and Seel walked past him into the room. It was empty of furniture. They'd given Cal no comforts. He sat on the floor beneath the window and it was clear they had taken no chances with him either. He was sprawled in a drugged stupor. Five other hara sat on the far side of the room, playing dice. They jumped to their feet when Seel walked in. 'Is there water here?' Seel asked.

They all nodded.

'Bring some,' Seel said. 'Find buckets or something. Wake this thing up.'

While he waited for the water, Seel stood in front of Cal and stared at him. Cal's head was sunk onto his chest. His hair was filthy. His hands trembled where they lay in his lap. He was beautiful. Seel remembered their childhood, their first kiss, the smell of Cal's body. He remembered how he would have died for Cal and how he nearly did of a broken heart. A fog of grief had spoilt the first few years of his Wraeththu life, because he'd had to face the fact that Cal did not love him in return. You stole my youth, You stole my youth, Seel thought. Seel thought. You made me love you and you made me Uigenna. I gave up everything for you. Now look at you. You made me love you and you made me Uigenna. I gave up everything for you. Now look at you.

Two guards returned with water, which Seel directed them to throw over the prisoner. Cal came to his senses a little, cried out and flailed his arms.

'Look at me!' Seel said.

It appeared that Cal did not recognise him, but why should he immediately? The old Seel had gone for good. What stood in front of him now was a Gelaming aristocrat, with smooth tawny hair and elegant clothing. Cal blinked a few times, grimaced then said in a small voice, 'Seel?'

'That's right,' Seel said. 'You understand you are in Gelaming custody?'

'What are you doing here? Where am I?' Cal looked around himself, his movements sluggish.

'I represent the Hegemony of Immanion...'

Cal laughed, b.u.t.ted in: 'You? No way!'

'And I am here to tell you are you will be punished for the murder of Orien Farnell at Saltrock.'

'Seel, this isn't real, is it... I mean this is a dream or something. You are back at Saltrock, sitting in your little office making plans and I am asleep somewhere.'

'No, if you remember, you were travelling with Swift the Varr and we took you captive. You have been in our camp, Imbrilim, for some days.'

Cal appeared confused, but Seel noticed a certain expression of recollection steal across his face.

'Listen to me,' Seel said. 'I work for Thiede now, and it is his wish our wish that you should pay for your crimes.'

Cal just stared at him, stupefied. Seel could tell Cal didn't believe this was really happening. Perhaps it had been a mistake to drug him.

'You're not dreaming,' Seel said. 'I'll show you.'

He knelt down and grabbed Cal by his hair. He poured his breath into him and showed him every detail stored in his being of the day when he had discovered Orien's body. Cal tried to pull away. He made pitiful sounds, but Seel didn't let go for a long time.

When he finally stood up, Cal was virtually unconscious again. He moved feebly, like a newborn animal.

'So, now you appreciate this is for real,' Seel said, 'you can pay attention to what I'm saying.'

'I believed you,' Cal said weakly. 'When you said you had nothing to do with Pell's death, I believed you. You said you didn't work for Thiede, and you did, all along.'

'I had nothing to do with what happened to Pell. That was not a lie, not that I have to justify myself to you. Pell is not dead, in any case.'

Cal's eyes opened wider. 'What?'

'Pell isn't dead, Cal. I have worked for him for some years. He is Tigron of Immanion, Lord of all Wraeththu. This was the plan that Thiede had for him, from the moment of his inception. He was never meant for you.'

'You're lying.'

'No, I'm not. You saw Pell die, and he did, but Thiede brought him back. He is more beautiful now than he ever was. You should be pleased for him. He has a consort and a son. He has a wonderful life. I wonder if he even remembers your name.'

Seel wasn't sure what reaction he expected to these disclosures, but Cal simply appeared to shut down, just like a machine being switched off. He went inside himself, perhaps. His eyes stared blankly ahead.

'You committed murder for no reason,' Seel said coldly. 'A magnificent har died because of you, and you are nothing. You are sc.u.m. The worst tragedy in the world is that you live while Orien does not. And the only comfort I get is from knowing that your whole being is consumed by your love for Pellaz Cevarro, and that now you know he is still alive and he does not want you. If you are wise, you will find a way to kill yourself, because Thiede will not kill you and neither will I. We will find a way to make your life as agonising as we can. Or maybe Thiede will kill you and then bring you back, again and again. He might give you release only to bring you back to bondage. Who knows? Whatever happens, it won't be enough to atone for Orien's death.' Seel fell silent and became aware of the guards standing behind him. He'd spoken too openly in front of them and regretted it. He should have sent them from the room.

Cal did not speak. His face ran with tears, but his features were immobile, showing no expression. How was it possible to love and hate somehar so much at the same time? Seel wanted to take Cal in his arms and he wanted to beat him until the blood ran.

'I have waited years for this moment,' Seel said softly. 'Now, I shall leave you and we'll not meet again. Think of me sometimes, Cal. You will have a very long time in which to do it. Think of me being with Pell, of me taking what you love, as you have done to so many others. Think of him glad that you no longer have your freedom. Think of his contempt for you. Then, think of me living in the house that was recently your home, my being erasing every atom of your presence there. Think of me with Swift, for no doubt he is one of your blind slaves too. Think of him being Gelaming, of embracing your enemies. I am going to Galhea, and you will never see it, or your friends there, again. It, and everything in it, will be mine.'

With these words, Seel left the room and closed the door behind him. His heart was beating fast, as if he'd been running. He went slowly down the stairs and when he reached the bottom he heard one terrible, lamenting cry come from the room at the top. It was the pain of all the world.

Seel stepped outside. The sun had set and bright stars filled the sky. He would go to another life now. The past was over. He thought of Swift and his beautiful eyes and he thought, I can do this now. I I can do this now. I will will do this now. May the G.o.ds forgive me for my heart. do this now. May the G.o.ds forgive me for my heart.

Chapter Twenty.

Lileem did not miss the desert lands. She liked the cold of winter in the north and the different moods of the seasons. She liked the brightness of fall, the strange sensuality of high summer, with its hidden thread of dark magic that walked the hills at mid-day. She loved the spring when hope found its way through the dark earth and the landscape sang in a voice so loud it deafened the inner ear, even though it sounded only like pretty birdsong to the everyday senses. If anyhar had asked her, she would have said that her life was complete and perfect.

They lived on a large riverboat, called 'Esmeraldarine', for which Flick and Ulaume had bartered some years back. It seemed the best way to live, because constant travelling meant they made no close friends, and no har ever became suspicious of them. The territory they roamed belonged mainly to the Unneah, who had no real love for Uigenna or Varrs, and were happy to offer sanctuary to fugitives from the warlike tribes. It was a common circ.u.mstance to them. They had paid lip service to Wraxilan in order to maintain a peaceful existence, but if a stronger tribe came along and killed every Uigenna down to the last har, the Unneah would dance on their graves, then pay lip service to whoever took control after.

After Terez had rescued them, Flick and Ulaume had returned to Casa Ricardo for Lileem and Mima, and even before the day was over they'd packed up what they could carry, and, taking a couple of burros as well as Ghost and the two Uigenna horses, had ridden hard to the north. Once they'd reached Unneah territory, Terez left them again. There had been no fond farewells.

Ulaume and Flick had worked for a Unneah tribe leader for nearly two years to pay for the boat, and during that time, they had all lived in a small wooden house on a hillside, some miles away from the nearest habitation. The Unneah had not bothered them particularly, which was fortunate, because Flick and Ulaume were wary of making friends. Lileem knew this was because of herself and Mima. Flick and Ulaume had isolated themselves to protect them. They had perhaps sacrificed other lives they could have lived, but they didn't resent it. When the time had come for their lives to change again, and they took to the water, Flick had sold Ghost. He said the pony deserved a better life than constant flight.

A year or so ago, they'd heard that the Gelaming had invaded Uigenna and Varrish lands, and that both tribes had been subjugated. But whether that was true or not, Uigenna still roamed the more heavily populated areas, so it was safer to keep to the wild places, where few hara lived. The Unneah who inhabited these hills wanted no part of the outside world, and respected reticence in others. Lileem and the others felt the same. They had made a life for themselves and nothing else mattered.

But it wasn't as if all the things they had gone through hadn't affected them in various ways and degrees. To Lileem, Flick appeared harder and was certainly less idealistic. Ulaume had taken a long time to get over his injuries. The hair that had been severed never grew again it was truly dead and eventually, each hair dropped out. Like any other har, he had to wait for new growth to replace the old and that was a gradual process. Lileem offered him healing whenever she could, and when she placed her hands upon his head, her mind filled with thousands of tiny hissing voices, the lament of serpents who'd been cut in two. No one was sure whether Ulaume would regain the unique ability he'd had before, and that upset him greatly, although he wouldn't show it. Mima still tortured herself over Terez and wouldn't share her feelings with anyone. Lileem intuited she blamed herself for what had happened to Flick and Ulaume. But perhaps the Uigenna would have come back to the white house one day, regardless, and if Terez hadn't been there, Ulaume and Flick might have been lost forever. Who could tell?

Terez had made it clear that he did not want to be Mima's kin. Despite this, he came to find them sometimes, perhaps twice a year. None of them knew why he did, because Mima found it too painful to be near him and his presence was always accompanied by a sour unpleasant atmosphere. He didn't care for any of them, not really, but still he kept in touch. He could sniff them out wherever they were. He had not found Dorado, and Pell's ghost had remained silent. Lileem quietly respected Terez for not making up stories about Pell speaking to him. He could easily have done so, and she suspected that if he had Ulaume would have believed him, too. Terez was a loner. He had not joined the Uigenna, perhaps because the har he had longed for among them had disappeared. He might be dour, aloof and without finer feelings, but he was honest. That counted for something. Of all of them, Lileem had the most time for Terez. She had forgiven him for calling the Uigenna to Casa Ricardo. There was something about him she couldn't help but like. Over the years, his personality had gradually revealed itself. He had a sharp sense of humour and didn't hold grudges. He accepted that he wasn't truly liked by Mima and the others, and didn't appear resentful of it. He told fascinating stories about his travels, and all the different tribes he'd met, and when he visited 'Esmeraldarine', liked to sit up all night drinking and talking. The others said they only tolerated his visits because they got to hear the stories, but Lileem noticed that not even Mima went to bed early when Terez was there, even if she did sit away from the rest of them, showing them all how good she was at being moody. Terez had many fine qualities, Lileem thought, and often she wished he were still with them all the time. He'd had a bad start, that was all. These opinions she kept wisely to herself.

They had run from the sierras and cordilleras of the south, into much greener territory. Now, they travelled up and down the great river hara called the Cloudy Serpent, trading what goods they could produce of wood and clay and leather. Majestic mountains soared around them, wreathed in mist. Life was movement and the undulating coils of the serpent ever beneath them. Lileem was not afraid of hara finding out she was different, because she no longer felt she was. When they had to meet others, she kept her secret to herself and became 'he' again. On the outside, she looked no different to a Wraeththu har. She had grown into a lithe and sinewy creature, a harish adolescent, who was only eight years old but appeared like a human would have done in their mid teens. Mima too had camouflaged herself more than adequately. She wore her hair in braids and smoked a long pipe, and when she sat on top of the boat at sunset to smoke, she sprawled with her limbs splayed out in a manner that Flick said was utterly unfeminine, but Lileem didn't really know what that was. Although both Lileem and Mima possessed the vestiges of feminine b.r.e.a.s.t.s, these were not prominent enough to warrant extra disguise. A loose shirt was enough to conceal them. Ulaume also said he'd met true hara who had possessed similar attributes but who had otherwise been Wraeththu in every way. Flick said that in the past, a human's voice had been the biggest giveaway concerning gender, but that harish voices were, like their bodies, not exactly male or female. Mima had this voice, as did Lileem herself. Animal camouflage: a cry through the trees.

One late afternoon in summer, they docked at a small Unneah settlement, where they had made acquaintances. It had taken several years to reach that stage of friendship with the privacy-loving hara of this area. Lileem went with Flick to pay respects to the community leader and he offered them a meal. Soon the sun would begin to set. Usually, Flick made excuses to avoid social situations, but for once he accepted the invitation. Lileem knew then that Flick had finally lost the fear of hara guessing she was unusual. They could risk being sociable.

The Unneah was named Rofalor and he lived with his chesnari Ecropine in a house with a wide veranda that overlooked the river. They had a harling, who was only a few months old and very shy. Lileem was naturally intrigued by this young har, not least because it was obvious to her, if not to Flick, that he did not possess the abnormalities that she did. Lileem could just tell: she didn't know how.

After they had eaten, they sat around a table on the porch, smoking pipes and listening to the song of the great river. Flick asked questions, carefully seeking information. They never told anyhar that Lileem was a second-generation har. They always let other hara think she'd been incepted.

'I've heard,' Flick said, 'that sometimes Wraeththu births can be dangerous, that they can go wrong and produce well freaks. Have you heard that?'

'I've heard of it,' Rofalor said, 'but I think that as time goes on, we are more at home in our skins, and such risks become less. I think that those incidents were caused by a lack of focus during the aruna that creates the pearl. We know more about it now. We take precautions.'

'Have you ever seen a harling that was damaged at birth?' Flick asked.

Rofalor grimaced. 'No, thank the Aghama!' He smiled at his son, who was lurking beneath the table. 'The worst thing for us will be when we have to hand over our son to another har for feybraiha.'

'What's that?' Lileem asked.

'Coming of age. I suppose it's rather like althaia. It's when aruna becomes a pressing need.' He sighed. 'For us, childhood is even shorter than it was for humans. In some ways, that is sad.'

Lileem had not considered things like this and a chill pa.s.sed through her. She thought fearfully of Terez and wondered whether the future held some terrible madness and decay for her. 'When does it happen?' she asked. 'How old is a harling when it does?'

'Oh, around six or seven, I think,' Rofalor said. 'It won't be a worry for us until a few years have pa.s.sed and you can be sure I'll keep my eyes peeled for the right har for the job from now until then.' He smiled. 'You're presentable and gentle, Lileem. Perhaps I'll choose you if you still ride the river at that time.'

Lileem must have looked stricken, because Flick announced it was time for them to get back. He virtually whisked Lileem off Rofalor's porch. She stumbled along beside him up the winding path back to the boat, her arm limp in his grip, her legs barely able to work. 'Aru, Aru, Aru,' she murmured beneath her breath.

Flick did not take her directly back to the 'Esmeraldarine'. They climbed some rocks that hung over the river and lay on their stomachs looking down at the dark waters below. The moon was beginning to rise above the hills opposite. Trees heavy with leaves, in full summer regalia, dipped their branches towards the water. All was beautiful, yet now in some way spoiled.

'We don't know about this,' Flick said. 'You are already eight. It might not happen to you.'

'But if it does...?' Lileem dug the heels of her hands against her eyes. 'What if it does? I might just have a slower body clock than normal hara.'

'You must tell me,' Flick said, 'if you feel anything strange, or if your body starts to change in some way. You must tell me at once.'

'I don't want to end up like Terez,' she moaned.

Flick reached out and squeezed her shoulder. 'You won't. No har on this earth could be like Terez! If it happens, then perhaps we'll know you're just har, who's a bit different, and that's that.' He paused. 'To be honest, Lee, none of us know how different you are, do we?'