have to in order to aid Caelum and Tencendor?”
“Yes!”
“Then that is enough,” Faraday said. “No-one can ever ask more of you.”
Drago sat on his donkey and wondered if he had just been outwitted. She was as smooth-tongued as WingRidge. He suddenly grinned, dissipating the tension between them. “You retain the sharp skills of a Queen immersed in court intrigue, Faraday.”
She laughed softly. “Naturally. One never knows when they will come in handy.”
“We worry,” said a soldier by the name of Gerlien.
“I know,” Zared answered, rubbing the bridge of his nose between forefinger and thumb. He’d hardly slept the past few nights. “But —”
“Sire? We do not know if our wives and children are safe or wander the plains demented. We must find out.”
To one side, Askam lounged against a tree and watched. Zared had command. So be it. He could deal with this nasty mess, then.
“We must wait for Drago and Faraday to —”
“How much longer must we wait?” Another man stepped forward from the group facing Zared.
“What do you propose?” Zared snapped. “That we just march out into the plains? How long do you think we would last before one of the Demons’ miasma found us? There is no shelter out there, and at least two weeks between us and Carlon!”
“Zared, hush one moment.” Leagh stepped to her husband, and took his arm, although she kept her eyes on the knot of men before them.
“Gerlien, Meanthrin, my husband speaks the truth. Do not blame him that at least he knows where his wife is.”
She smiled to take any sense of chastisement out of her words.
The soldiers relaxed a little, impressed with the fact that Leagh knew their names. But then, she’d been tireless this past week, moving among the campfires of the army each night, spending a few minutes and words at each. And although Zared had done the same, Leagh had always managed to raise a few more, and far more genuine, smiles.
“I ask you to wait,” Zared said. He smiled lopsidedly. “None of us can know where, or how, to move until Drago and Faraday return.”
“And yet,” Askam’s voice cut in from the side, “some people might think you should be out there, saving as much of Tencendor as you can, Zared. After all, is that not what Axis asked you to do?”
“And I will do so,” Zared said, keeping his tone even, “when I know how it is that I may keep most of these men alive.”
“You would put your trust in someone as treacherous as Drago?” Askam asked. “Or as unknown as Faraday?”
“Faraday is hardly ‘unknown’, Askam,” Leagh said, her voice sharp. If her husband necessarily had to guard her tongue in front of Askam, then she did not. “She died for —”
“Ah,” Askam said dismissively, turning away as if to walk into the forest. “And yet here she walks again. Not quite ‘dead’, is she? What did she promise to the Demons to get her life back? The green fields of Tencendor? The jewelled corridors of the Minaret Peaks? And I hardly need start on Drago — that man has never had anything but deadly intentions for Tencendor, or for anyone who steps in his path.”
“No-one can blame you for being scared, Askam,” said a voice to the side, “but you should learn to look beyond past grievances. Don’t fight that which may well save your life.”
“Faraday!” Zared strode forward and helped her from her donkey, relieved beyond measure that she was back. He looked over to Drago. The man was different. Sadder, almost.
“Drago?”
“Soon, Zared, but —”
A lizard scrambled from the donkey’s back and scrambled up the nearest tree. Everyone’s eyes widened in surprise.
“— a meal first would surely be appreciated.”
Sitting about the fire with Zared and his immediate command, Drago told them what he could.
There was little to say but the worst, and no way to say it but in the worst way possible.
Drago studied his hands, and when he looked up his face was neutral. “Qeteb must be allowed to live,” he said.
The listeners erupted with exclamations, and Drago held up his hand for silence.
“There is worse.”
“And why am I not surprised?” Askam muttered under his breath, but none heard.
He shot a glance at Faraday. Askam wasn’t fooled by her. She sat close by Drago’s side, her lovely face demure, her eyes downcast, but Askam wondered if she wasn’t casting some spell to enchant all into Drago’s web.
“Tencendor will be devastated by the Demons,” Drago said softly. “Especially with Qeteb at their head. The land will be destroyed. It must be.”
“Why say this?” Zared cried. “You think this is going to help?”
“Zared … everyone … please listen to what I say before judging either the speaker or the message.”
Drago paused and thought carefully before continuing. The journey through the Silent Woman Woods with Faraday had given him time to think and to reason things out, and what he’d come to understand needed to be said carefully, and yet plainly.
“You all know the tensions of the past, tensions that have been present within Tencendor for over a thousand years. Not even Axis’ battle against Gorgrael managed to truly unite the three peoples of Tencendor. Sin, bias, bigotry, dissent and distrust still walk the land. Tencendor must be ravaged clean to … wait! … let me finish! All the bigotry and distrust must be burned clean before the peoples of Tencendor can find the heart and the courage to truly unite against the Demons.
“The field must be left fallow for it to flower full bright in the season that follows the night.”
Zared dropped his gaze. He could not trust himself to speak.
If Zared thought it best not to immediately vent his anger, then StarDrifter had no hesitation in speaking his mind.
“But to allow Tencendor to become a wasteland.” His face was tight and ashen, his pale blue eyes furious. “Allow Qeteb to arise? How can —”
“I am sorry, StarDrifter. But Qeteb must be allowed to live before he can be killed. Nothing ‘unalive’ can be made dead.”
“And how is this killing to eventuate?” StarDrifter asked, no less angry.
“With the magic of this land combined with the magic of the Enemy’s craft,” Drago replied.
“There is no magic of the land remaining,” StarDrifter said, making an emphatic gesture with his hand. “None.”
“No.”
