Midnight tides

As soon as they were gone, Rhulad lowered the sword and studied Udinaas for a time. ‘We are not blind to all those who would seek advantage. The Warlock King sees us as too young, too ignorant, but he knows nothing of the truths we have seen. Mayen – she is as a dead thing beneath me. We should have left her to Fear. That was a mistake.’ He blinked, as if recovering himself, then regarded Udinaas with open suspicion. ‘And you, slave. What secrets do you hide?’

Udinaas lowered himself to one knee, said nothing.

‘Nothing will be hidden from us,’ Rhulad said. ‘Look up, Udinaas.’

He did, and saw a wraith crouched at his side.

‘This shade shall examine you, slave. It will see if you are hiding poison within you.’

Udinaas nodded. Yes, do this, Rhulad. I am weary. I want an end.

The wraith moved forward, then enveloped him.

‘Ohh, such secrets!’

He knew that voice and closed his eyes. Clever, Wither. I assume you volunteered?

‘So many, left shattered, wandering lost. This bastard has used us sorely. Do you imagine we would willingly accede to his demands? I am unbound, and that has made me useful, for I am proof against compulsion where my kin are not. Can he tell the difference? Evidently he cannot.’ A trill of vaguely manic laughter. ‘And what shall I find? Udinaas. You must stay at this madman’s side. He is going to Letheras, you see, and we need you there.’

Udinaas sighed. Why?

‘All in good time. Ah, you rail at the melodrama? Too bad, hee hee. Glean my secrets, if you dare. You can, you know.’

No. Now go away.

Wither slipped back, resumed its swirling man-shape in front of Udinaas.

Rhulad released one hand from the sword to claw at his face. He spun round, took two steps, then howled his rage. ‘Why are they lying to us? We cannot trust them! Not any of them!’ He turned. ‘Stand, Udinaas. You alone do not lie. You alone can be trusted.’ He strode to the throne and sat. ‘We need to think. We need to make sense of this. Hannan Mosag… he covets our power, doesn’t he?’

Udinaas hesitated, then said, ‘Yes, sire. He does.’

Rhulad’s eyes gleamed red. ‘Tell us more, slave.’

‘It is not my place-’

‘We decide what is your place. Speak.’

‘You stole his throne, Emperor. And the sword he believed was rightly his.’

‘He wants it still, does he?’ A sudden laugh, chilling and brutal. ‘Oh, he’s welcome to it! No, we cannot. Mustn’t. Impossible. And what of our wife?’

‘Mayen is broken. She wanted nothing real from her flirting with you. You were the youngest brother to the man she would marry. She sought allies within the Sengar household.’ He stopped there, seeing the spasms return to Rhulad, the extremity of his emotion too close to an edge, a precipice, and it would not do to send him over it. Not yet, perhaps not at all. It’s the poison within me, so hungry for vengeance, so… spiteful. These are not my thoughts, not my inclinations. Remember that, Udinaas, before you do worse than would Hannan Mosag. ‘Sire,’ he said softly, ‘Mayen is lost. And hurting. And you are the only one who can help her.’

‘You speak to save the slave woman,’ the emperor said in a rough whisper.

‘Feather Witch knows only hatred for me, sire. I am an Indebted, whilst she is not. My desire for her was hubris, and she would punish me for it.’

‘Your desire for her.’

Udinaas nodded. ‘Would I save her from beatings? Of course I would, sire. Just as you would do the same. As indeed you just did, not a moment ago.’

‘Because it is… sordid. What am I to make of you, Udinaas? A slave. An… Indebted… as if that could make you less in the eyes of another slave.’

‘The Letherii relinquish nothing, even when they are made into slaves. Sire, that is a truth the Tiste Edur have never understood. Poor or rich, free or enslaved, we build the same houses in which to live, in which to play out the old dramas. In the end, it does not matter whether destiny embraces us or devours us – either is as it should be, and only the Errant decides our fate.’