Savage Empire

"Certainly. You tried to entice me into Drakonius' army and displayed Adept power. Why can't you heal your shoulder?"

"I can move things, not heal. I'm not a Lord Adept, nor a Reader either. Would that I were-I'd never have let you leave Zendi had I known who you were. Drakonius' message reached us too late, and we couldn't find you again."

"Now you have," replied Lenardo, looking up as Lilith approached. She was beginning to show the effects of the night's work. Her golden brown eyes appeared to have retreated into her face, completely circled by dark rings. Although she did not seem to be troubled by her. own injury, even her pale blue underdress was charred, one sleeve in tatters.

Arkus looked up at her. "You chose the right side, Lady Lilith."

"No, captain," she replied. "I remained with those to whom I had given my pledge, as did you. We have no quarrel now that the battle is done." She turned to Lenardo. "A clean wound?"

"Yes, Lady."

She touched Arkus' shoulder, and Lenardo Read the dull throb of pain give way to healing fire. "There are many who must be carried," Lilith said to Arkus. "I think you are well enough to walk to Castle Nerius, but if you grow weak or have pain, do not hesitate to ask for help."

The young officer's eyes spoke the incredulity Lenardo Read in him. "Why are you healing an army that has just opposed you?"

"An army is made up of men, captain, and men choose their loyalties. You are no longer bound by your oath to Drakonius, as he is dead. You commander-"

"Braccho is dead also," said Arkus.

"Then at this moment you have no loyalties. You are the property of the Lady Aradia, but I think you will choose to become her sworn man."

And what is my choice now? Lenardo wondered, knowing that he wanted to ally his efforts with these people who, instead of killing their enemies, healed them and turned them into friends.

The image of five charred bodies in a rocky canyon intruded on him-but that was self-defense. What else could they have done against Adept power? But oh, Galen, why did you have to fall into Drakonius' hands?

He pulled his mind away from the thought. Galen was dead. Lenardo's mission for the empire was complete.

And if he had managed to take Galen back? Once the senate knew that Galen had conspired with the enemy, what choice would they have had but to execute him?

Didn't I know that all along?

Nerius had been right. The only way Lenardo could make the senate listen to him would be to approach them as Aradia's emissary. There soon would be peace in all the lands along the border, the lands Drakonius had ruled. The time was right. As soon as Aradia had firm command of all the lands she had won, he would attempt to make a treaty with the empire. May it be the will of the gods that there never be another night of savage destruction like the one just past!

There was a mass funeral three days later for all the troops that had been killed in the battle… and for Nerius. One gruesome report that Lenardo heard, but that was kept from most of the people, was that the men who went to collect the remains of those who had died in the rocky canyon found that scavengers had got at the bodies, and nothing was left but scattered bones.

It was a very long funeral, beginning early in the morning, for there were many dead to be eulogized. Lenardo was surprised when Aradia found something to say even for Hron, who had betrayed her. When it came to Nerius, every person there except the survivors of Drakonius' troops had something to say. Lenardo had come to respect Aradia's father on just a few days' acquaintance; now he got a fuller picture of a strong, firm, honest, and entirely honorable man whose wrath was feared but who was deeply loved by his people.

Everyone was all in gray, and Lenardo noted that, as he had seen at the other funeral, no one wore any ornament.

Like Wulfston, he had hidden his wolf's-head pendant inside his clothing once more.

Yet both Aradia and Wulfston wore the gold fillets across their foreheads-the mark of children of the Lord Adept.

Lenardo was one of the last to speak, for once in his life finding words would not come to express his feelings. He stumbled through somehow, unsurprised and unashamed at the tears coursing down his cheeks-tears for Nerius, but also for Galen.

The mourners formed several circles about the flat rock. When the speeches were over, there was silence-suddenly broken by a mournful howling. Everyone looked up in amazement, to see the white wolf atop a nearby hummock, howling as if he too grieved that the lord of the land was dead.

Finally all was silence. The wood was already piled over the bodies, and Aradia and Wulfston performed the ceremony of earth and water. Then both removed their gold fillets and laid them on the pyre.