Isak seemed to straighten at that, and Jachen thought he caught a glimpse of his former strength showing beneath the lost look on his face.
‘The war goes on,’ Isak said, ‘shadows and lords, the war goes on.’
‘Isak, perhaps you should rest?’ Mihn urged. He reached out and took Isak by the arm, but the broken white-eye ignored him.
With crooked fingers and awkward movements he pushed Mihn’s hand away. ‘No rest, not yet,’ he said, his face contorted as though every thought caused him pain. ‘Lost names and lost faces.’
‘You want me to remind you of people?’ Mihn asked, looking hopeful.
Isak shook his head and prodded Mihn. ‘I want you to tell me what it means,’ he said. ‘Tell me what it means to lose your memories, to lose who you are.’
‘Why?’
Isak prodded Mihn again, pushing him a few steps backwards, and this time Mihn glanced behind him to check how close he was to the water.
‘The war must go on. Someone told me once to use what I have inside me,’ Isak said.
‘I don’t understand, Isak.’
Isak’s face became a ghastly smile. ‘What I have inside are holes - and they’ll be my weapons now.’
King Emin walked stiffly up the stairs, a jug of wine in one hand and a pair of goblets in the other, a slender cigar jammed in the corner of his mouth.
‘Another long day,’ he commented to Legana who was ascending silently behind him, her progress slow and careful. She steadied herself with a hand on the tower wall and her silver-headed cane in the other.
‘It appears even a king must feel his age one of these days.’
Legana inclined her head and walked past as Emin respectfully held open the door to his breakfast room. It was a small room, and as sparsely furnished as the rest of Camatayl Castle, but it served the king’s needs. This was not a place for luxuries: almost every room now contained food stores or cramped bunks for soldiers.
There was a fire alight and chairs set for them on either side of it. Emin poured drinks once Legana was settled. Over the past few weeks the pair, both strong-willed and impatient with others, had found an accommodation that suited them both. Their common understanding of their extraordinary positions had turned into a cautious friendship.
‘Have the priestesses accepted your authority?’ Emin asked, tossing his hat aside and easing down in his chair. He idly brushed dirt from his boot while Legana wrote on her slate.
— They ask many questions.
‘Questions you cannot yet answer?’ Emin nodded sadly. ‘As do my generals. They believe absolutely in the might of Narkang’s armies; defeat in battle has been a rare thing in my life, so they cannot understand my tactics now.’
— The priestesses ask what the rest do not dare.
‘What the substance of your promises might be? It’s the nature of people. Offer them a brighter future and they will cheer and shout your name, but sooner or later they want to know the details. How did you think I ended up in this mess?’ Emin said wryly.
— I promised only that a better future was possible.
‘But you don’t have a form in mind? I hadn’t taken you for a woman of faith.’
— Of instinct, she corrected, even before I was joined to the Lady. I sense a future will come. I hope it will come before a God tries to subsume me.
Emin looked startled. ‘Is that even a possibility, Gods fighting each other for supremacy? I know it used to happen in the Age of Myths, but now? Piss and daemons; could a God like Larat decide there is enough of the divine within you to take you as an Aspect?’
— I don’t wish to find out.
Emin gave a snort. ‘I can imagine. So we both may be running out of time.’
— You don’t believe in your armies too?
‘Hah! I know my strength well enough, and I also know my enemy. I’ve studied his campaign thus far; Lord Styrax is inventive and bold, but he’s lacking the arrogance one might hope for. His armies are battle-hardened and replenished by the states he’s conquered; mine are untested in ten years. He has made no significant mistakes, and only committed himself to vulnerability when he is certain of victory. This is not what one hopes for in an enemy. ’
He grimaced and took a swig of wine, staring into the distance a moment before continuing, ‘No - that’s not correct; he has