Queen of Fire

They walked the length of the mole as darkness fell, a three-quarters moon showing through intermittent cloud. Caenis said nothing, waiting for him to speak, perhaps fully aware of the first word he would say.

“Mikehl,” Vaelin said when they had come to the end of the mole. The evening tide had drawn the sea back from the mole so it seemed they stood atop a great height, assailed by a strong breeze, the gently lapping waves barely visible below. He searched Caenis’s face as his brother gave no response, seeing what he had expected to see. Guilt.

“Before I sailed to the Reaches Aspect Grealin assured me he had no part in it,” Vaelin went on. “Placing the blame squarely on Brother Harlick, who in truth has admitted his part, though not in the most fulsome terms. Is there perhaps something you would like to add to the story, brother?”

Caenis’s expression didn’t change and his voice was toneless as he replied, “My Aspect instructed me to keep you safe. I did as I was instructed.”

“The men who killed Mikehl told of another, someone I fancy they met in the forest that night. Someone they feared.”

“They were expecting a brother of Harlick’s acquaintance, someone complicit in his scheme. I found him, killed him, and took his place. The assassins hired by Nortah’s father were not so easily killed, so I sent them in the wrong direction, a direction I expected would lead them clear of any brothers. Mikehl, however, was always so slow, and so easily lost.”

Vaelin turned away from him, staring out to sea. The wind was rising and the wave-tops shone white in the dim moonlight. Farther out he could see a black shape on the horizon, soon joined by several more. “Our Fleet Lord makes good his promise,” he observed.

Caenis glanced at the approaching ships. “This war has garnered some strange allies.”

“And revealed much in the process.”

“That day you found us . . . My words were unfair. I had lost so many men, so much unforeseen death. It seemed the Departed had abandoned us, as if your Faithlessness had drawn their judgement. It was a foolish notion, brother.”

“Brother,” Vaelin repeated softly. “We’ve called each other that for so long I wonder if it still holds meaning. So much has been concealed, so many lies spoken. That first day, in the vaults, Grealin patted you on the shoulder and you flinched. I thought you feared his imaginary rats, but he was greeting you. You weren’t joining the Sixth Order, you were reporting to your Aspect.”

“It is how we persist, how we continue to serve the Faith. At least until now. With Aspect Grealin gone the burden of rebuilding this Order falls to me. It would sit easier with your help.”

“The Gifted from the Reaches want no part of your Order. Cara and Marken aren’t even of the Faith and I doubt Lorkan could summon the will to believe in anything.”

“Much like you, brother.” Caenis’s words were softly spoken but Vaelin heard the judgement in them clearly.

“I did not lose my faith,” he told Caenis. “It shrivelled and died in the face of truth.”

“And will this great truth win this war, brother? Look around you and see how many have suffered. Will your truth sustain them in the months and years ahead?”

“Will your gift? I’ve yet to learn what manner of power you hold, and if I am to command this army, I should greatly like to know.”

Caenis stood regarding him in silence, eyes intent and unblinking. Vaelin’s hand went to the hunting knife at his belt, gripping the handle tight, ready to draw it forth, stab it into his brother’s eye . . . He breathed out slowly, releasing the knife and finding his hand trembling.

“So now you know, brother,” Caenis said before turning and walking away.

CHAPTER SEVEN

Alucius

Aspect Dendrish sagged on hearing the news, seeming to shrink as his bulk subsided onto his too-narrow bed. His jowls shimmered as he worked his slug-like lips, brow drawn in a frown of despair. “There . . .” He paused and swallowed, gazing up at Alucius with wide-eyed desperation. “There could be some error in this. Some misunderstanding . . .”

“I doubt that, Aspect,” Alucius said. “It seems Master Grealin has truly met his end, though in rather strange circumstances.” He went on to relate the tale Darnel had told him, complete with the Dark powers attributed to the fallen Master of the Sixth Order.

Dendrish’s response was swift, immediate and far too practised to be anything but a lie. “Utter nonsense. In fact I am appalled a man of learning could lend any credence to such lurid piffle.”