Gate of Ivrel

“She has set something else on you,” his brother pronounced after a moment, his expression greatly troubled. “Heaven defend a madman. Do you hear your own words, Vanye? Do you realize what she is asking of you? You could not lift your hand against yourself last night; and do you think that what she has set on you is any easier? She has ordered you to kill yourself, that is all.”

“It was fair Claiming,” he said, “and she was within her right.”

“She left you.”

“You sent her from me. She was hurt and had no choice.”

Erij gripped his arm painfully. “I would give you place with me. Instead of being outlaw, instead of being dead in this impossible thing, you would be in Ra-morij, honored, second to me. Vanye, listen to me. Look at me. This is human flesh. This is human. She is Witchfire herself, that woman—cold company, dangerous company for anything born of human blood. She has killed ten thousand men—all in the name of the same lie, and now you have believed the lie too. I will not see one of my house go to that end. Look at me. See me. Can you even be comfortable to look her in the eyes?”

You do not know how great an evil you are aiding. She lies, she has lied before, to the ruin of Koris. Ilin –oath says betray family, betray hearth, but not the liyo; but does it say betray your own kind?

Come with me, Chya Vanye.

Liell’s words.

“Vanye.” His brother’s hand slipped from him. “Go. I shall have them set you in your own room, your own proper room, in the tower. Sleep. Tomorrow evening you will know sense when you hear it. Tomorrow evening we will talk again, and you will know that I am right.”

He slept. He had not thought it possible for a man who had been deprived of conscience and reason at once, but his body had its own demands to satisfy and after such a time simply closed off other senses. He slept deeply, in his own bed that he had known from childhood, and awoke aching and bruised from the treatment he had had of the Myya.

And awoke to the more painful misery of realizing that he had not dreamed the night in the basement or that in Erij’s hall; that he had indeed done the things he remembered, that he had broken and wept like a child, and that the best there was left for him was to assume a face of pride and try to wear it before other men.

Even that seemed useless. He knew that it was a lie. So would everyone else in Morij-keep, most especially Erij, with whom it mattered most. He lay abed until servants brought in water for washing, and this time there was a razor for shaving; he made use of it, gratefully, and put off the clothing he had slept in, and washed his minor hurts before he dressed again in the clean clothing the servants provided him. In a morbid turn of mind he considered doing to himself again what Nhi Rijan had done, cutting off what growth of hair had come in the two years of his exile; and suddenly he gathered it back in his hand and did so, under the shocked eyes of the servants, who did not move to stop him. This a warrior decided, and whether it would please their lord, it was a matter among warriors and the uyin. In four uneven handfuls he severed the locks, and cast the razor on the table, for the servants to bear away.

In that attitude he went to his nightly meeting with his brother.

Erij did not appreciate the bitter humor of it.

“What nonsense is this?” Erij snapped at him. “Vanye, yon disgrace the house.”

“I have already done that,” Vanye said quietly. Erij stared at him then, displeased, but he had the sense to let him alone upon the matter. Vanye set himself at table and ate without looking up from his plate or saying many words, and Erij ate also, but pushed away his own plate half-eaten.

“Brother,” said Erij, “you are trying to shame me.”

Vanye left the table and went over to stand by the hearth, the only truly warm place in all the room. After a moment Erij followed him and set his hand on his shoulder, making him look at him.

“Am I free to go?” Vanye asked, and Erij swore.

“No, you are not free to go. You are family and you have an obligation here.”

“To what? To you, after this?” Vanye looked up at him and found it impossible to be angry: there was truly misery on Erij’s face at the moment, and he had never known prolonged repentence in his brother. He did not know how to judge it. He walked back to the table and cast himself down there. Erij followed him back and sat down again.

“If I gave you weapons and a horse,” Erij asked him, “what would you? Follow her?”

“I am bound by an oath,” be said, “still.” And then, to see if he could wring it from Erij: “Where is she?”

“Camped near Baien-ei.”

“Will you give me the weapons and the horse?”

“No, I will not. Brother, you are Nhi. I pardon your other offenses. I hold nothing against you.”