House of Chains
‘I shall, but I do not think we will see him again.’
Leoman nodded. Then he said to Corabb, ‘Tell the warchiefs to scatter with their tribes. Out of Raraku as fast as they can manage it-’
‘Out of the Holy Desert, Leoman?’ Corabb asked.
‘Can’t you hear it? Never mind. Yes. Out. Rejoin me on the western road-the ancient one that runs straight.’
Corabb saluted, then pulled his horse round and rode off.
‘You too, Toblakai. Out of Raraku-’
‘I will,’ Karsa replied, ‘when I am done here, Leoman. Now, go-officers are riding to the Adjunct. They will follow with an attack-’
‘Then they’re fools,’ Leoman spat.
Karsa watched his friend ride off. Then strode to his own mount. He was tired. His wounds hurt. But some issues remained unsettled, and he needed to take care of that.
The Teblor swung himself onto Havok’s back.
Tavore still stood alone on the flats, a few paces from Sha’ik’s body. The Adjunct’s attention had been fixed on the Dogslayer trenches, and on the lone, ragged standard rising from the highest ground at the central ramp’s summit.
A standard that had no right being here. No right existing at all.
Coltaine’s standard, the wings of the Crow Clan.
Lostara wondered who had raised it, where it had come from, then decided she didn’t want to know. One truth could not be ignored, however. They’re all dead. The Dogslayers. All. And the Adjunct did not need to even raise a hand to achieve that .
She sensed her own cowardice and scowled. Skittering away, again and again, from thoughts too bitter with irony to contemplate. Their journey to the basin had been nightmarish, as Kurald Emurlahn swarmed the entire oasis, as shadows warred with ghosts, and the incessant rise and fall of that song grew audible enough for Lostara to sense, if not hear. A song still climbing in crescendo.
But, at the feet of… of everything . A simple, brutal fact.
They had come too late.
She would not look at Pearl, could say nothing. Nor did he speak.
Close enough now to see Tavore’s face beneath the helm, an expression stern-almost angry-as she turned to watch their approach.
Officers were riding down, though slowly.
There would be time, Lostara realized, for a private conversation.
She and Pearl halted six paces from the Adjunct.
The Claw dumped Korbolo Dom onto the ground between them. ‘He won’t wake up any time soon,’ he said, taking a deep breath, then sighing and looking away.
‘What are you two doing here?’ the Adjunct asked. ‘Did you lose the trail?’
Pearl did not glance at Lostara, but simply shook his head in answer to Tavore’s question. A pause, then, ‘We found her, Adjunct. With deep regret… Felisin is dead.’
‘Are you certain?’
‘Yes, Adjunct.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘I can say one thing for certain, Tavore. She died quickly.’
Tavore stared at them both for a long moment, then lowered her head. ‘Well, there is mercy in that, I suppose.’
And then sheathed her sword, turned away and began walking towards her approaching officers.
Under her breath, so low that only Pearl could hear her, Lostara said, ‘Yes, I suppose there is…’
Pearl swung to her suddenly. ‘Here comes Tene Baralta. Stall him, lass.’ He walked over to Sha’ik’s body. ‘The warrens are clear enough… I hope.’ He bent down and tenderly picked her up, then faced Lostara once more. ‘Yes, she’s a heavier burden than you might think.’
‘No, Pearl, I don’t think that. Where?’
The Claw’s smile lanced into her heart. ‘A hilltop… you know the one.’
Lostara nodded. ‘Very well. And then?’
‘Convince them to get out of Raraku, lass. As fast as they can. When I’m done…’ he hesitated.