‘The patterns I see all around me. The threads that bind you to the tapestry.’
Mihn frowned. Isak’s maudlin thoughts were often followed by listlessness and a deep gloom and he’d hoped today to be able to get the damaged white-eye up and working; exercising those still-powerful muscles and helping him continue his journey back to the man he’d once been.
‘Come back to the cottage,’ he urged, ‘I’ll make some tea — you must be cold out here.’
Isak was wearing only a thin robe, tied at the waist with a braided belt Xeliath had once worn. The scars on his throat and chest were plain to see, duller now that the day they had returned from Ghenna but no less terrible.
‘It’s strange,’ Isak said, looking Mihn properly in the eye for the first time that day. ‘I don’t feel part of that pattern. We cut the threads that bound me. We had to — there was no other way.’
‘I know,’ Mihn said soothingly, seeing Isak’s face tightening with anxiety. The witch of Llehden had cut many memories from his mind, leaving great holes there. Some things Isak remembered perfectly, but he sensed the frayed edges of his memory. ‘We freed you. It was hard, but we freed you.’
‘We cut too many,’ Isak said with an abrupt, strangled cough of laughter. ‘Ham-fisted wagon-brat, that’s what she used to call me.’
‘Tila? Aye, and Carel too.’
‘Carel?’
Mihn shook his head hurriedly. ‘Just someone you once knew,’ he said, a dagger of guilt driving deep into his heart. Merciful Gods, he cannot remember Carel? How do I ever forgive myself for taking that memory from him?
He had to cough and clear his throat before he could speak again. ‘Tell me how you know we cut too many.’
‘I’m not part of the tapestry, not any more. A few threads still hold me to life, but I died, didn’t I?’
‘You did.’ For a moment Mihn felt the weight of the Land upon his shoulders, but he shook off the mood. He didn’t know what price he would have to pay for the audacity of his actions, but whatever it was, it could not be worse than what Isak had endured. ‘You died, and we brought you back. We had to.’
‘To free me of the ties that bind,’ Isak intoned, ‘and that bastard Lesarl,’ he added. ‘Never liked him.’
Mihn forced a smile at the glimpse of the old Isak; he didn’t see them often, but they were coming more frequently now. The witch had been right to give Hulf to Isak. They were inseparable now and the dog, growing stronger every day — and starting to show the fierce spirit yet to reawaken in Isak — was tirelessly playful. Hulf was forcing Isak to remember his own love of silliness, running along the lakeshore with happy abandon, leaping over whatever was in his way, or stealing Isak’s shoes in the hope of being chased. It had taken Isak a while to keep up, but just as the growing dog was developing a wilful, exuberant personality, Isak was unearthing his own, buried deep, but not entirely cut away by their drastic measures.
‘Can you see the pattern?’ Mihn asked cautiously. ‘Do you understand it now?’
Isak’s gaze returned to the lake. ‘I see the wind. I see the sun — the threads that tie flowers to the sun and bees to the flowers. I see the spirits of the forest and the Gods that rule them. I see the threads that bind it all, the weaves and colours of all things.’
‘And me?’
Isak’s face went suddenly grave. ‘Especially you. You keep me in the pattern. I am the millstone around your neck.’
‘Isak, that is not true,’ Mihn insisted sternly. ‘We both made this choice, and I would make the same choice again.’
‘Would I?’ Isak wondered. ‘Do I have the strength?’
‘Your strength is something I will never doubt.’
Without warning tears spilled from Isak’s eyes. He stood there, unashamed, looking mournfully at Mihn. ‘We must remake the pattern; tear out the threads and bind them anew — and you will have to live with the consequences.’
CHAPTER 17
Legana felt the light of the fading sun break through the clouds and settle over her as she sat on a stone bench in the centre of Kamfer’s Ford. She turned her head a little to protect her sensitive eyes and waited. Life in the market square continued around her. The locals were used to the sight of her now,