he didn’t want to lead the cavalry close enough to spark either a panic or a riot. As he edged nearer however, he realised this was no mob, but a crowd listening intently. Vesna looked over the heads to see what was happening and blinked in surprise.
There was what had to be a Harlequin standing on a makeshift gantry on the left. The diamond-pattern clothes and white porcelain mask were unmistakable, as was the entranced hush over the crowd.
‘Now that’s something I’ve never seen before,’ he commented to Suzerain Torl beside him. ‘A Harlequin preaching?’
He’d spoken too quietly to be heard by anyone else, but all the same the Harlequin broke off from what it was saying and stared straight at him. Vesna felt the air grow cold as faces turned to follow the Harlequin’s line of sight. Their expressions were more annoyance at the interruption than anything else, but Vesna also smelled resentment in the air.
He started to turn his horse away from the crowd when the Harlequin called out over the tense quiet, ‘Brothers, there you have the embodiment of war — sitting so proud with blood on his cheek, stained and burdened by the life he has led. Pity him, fellow children of the Gods, for men of war have lost the path of peace and pain fills their soul.’
Vesna checked behind him to ensure his soldiers hadn’t instinctively drawn their weapons.
‘I fight in the name of the Gods,’ he called back, aware that he needed to respond in some way. ‘I fight with the blessing of the Gods.’ Death’s cold rattle, why is a Harlequin starting an argument with me?
‘You are as lost as the cults. It only remains to be seen if you wish to seek peace, or continue to add to the pain sickening this Land,’ the Harlequin retorted.
‘You claim greater wisdom than the Gods?’ Vesna demanded.
The Harlequin gave a slow, pitying shake of the head. ‘NotI — all I claim is a desire to fill my heart with peace, to be as a child and free myself of the burden of years that cloud a mind.’
I don’t think I’m likely to win an argument about the merits of peace, Vesna thought, tugging his red cloak a little to ensure it completely covered his armoured arm. But I’ll find out nothing by backing off.
‘What of the wisdom that comes with age?’ he ventured.
‘That too is clouded by the fear driving the actions of men. It is only by letting the baggage of life fall away that men ensure their decisions are not tainted or swayed.’
‘Let me guess: you have a suggestion for how to do that?’
‘Not I,’ the Harlequin intoned; ‘I do not appoint myself arbitrator for the deeds of others. Every man and woman must choose their own path in this life. I offer no ritual for absolution, no mantra to cleanse the soul of its stains. We must all find innocence in our own way — we must all serve innocence in our own way.’
Before Vesna could think of a reply the Harlequin raised its hand, pointing at the part of the crowd that was blocking the centre of the street. ‘My siblings, we cannot hope to find the path to peace just by blocking the path of war,’ it called in a laughing voice, diffusing the tension in the air. ‘Please, allow the men of war to pass; a child would not be so prideful as to mind standing in the gutter and nor shall we!’
A smattering of laughter accompanied the shuffling of feet and in moments the street was clear enough for the troops to pass. Gesturing for the column to advance, Vesna rode on slowly, giving the Harlequin a respectful nod as he passed. It did nothing in response, but he felt its eyes on his back until he crossed Hunter’s Ride and started on the last stretch leading to the Palace. As he neared that Vesna realised there was another unpleasant surprise waiting before he made it inside the walls.
‘Gods, I’ve got enough to worry about, haven’t I?’ he muttered under his breath.
‘Soldiers?’ Suzerain Torl said, casting Vesna a questioning look. Torl was older than the men under his command, and he had to rely on their eyesight for anything in the distance.
‘Aye, they’re penitents,’ Vesna said grimly, ‘but maybe this is one argument today I can win.’
‘Are you going to reveal your full authority, my Lord?’