Vesna leaned forward. ‘You can piss them away for all I care. They hardly matter now.’
‘They matter quite a bit,’ Lesarl corrected, ‘symbolically, as much as anything. You have been a faithful servant of the tribe and you are a hero of the Farlan Army - I tend not to piss away, as you so delightfully put it, such powerful symbols.’
‘As you wish. I’ve no use for them,’ Vesna growled. ‘Is that all you wanted from me?’
Lesarl pushed forward a second file, a slim one this time. ‘Not quite. First you should read this.’
‘Why?’ There was no reply and after a moment Vesna gave in and grabbed the file, knocking some on the floor as he did so. He flipped it open and read the top page. ‘It’s a murder report.’
‘Indeed it is. Look underneath.’
Vesna did so and frowned. ‘Another murder report. Both priests; what’s wrong, Lesarl, one of your agents go beyond their remit again?’
‘Can you see the link between them?’ Lesarl asked. ‘It’s rather easy to spot.’
‘They’re both priests of Karkarn - is that why you think I’ll care?’ Vesna stood. ‘In case you hadn’t noticed, Karkarn and I aren’t exactly speaking right now.’ The iron fist tightened again. ‘If he hadn’t interfered at the shrine there’s a good chance . . .’ He stopped, then whispered, ‘There’s a good chance Tila would still be alive.’
‘And you would likely be dead,’ Lesarl pointed out. ‘Karkarn saved your life, and like it or not, it was the right thing to do.’
‘Right?’ Vesna yelled, slamming his fist onto Lesarl’s ornate monstrosity of a desk, hard enough to make it shudder under the impact. ‘You had better carefully consider the next words to come out your mouth.’
‘Vesna,’ Lesarl said in a quieter voice, ‘I do not pretend to know your pain, I would not presume that.’ He took a long, slow breath, and saw Vesna do the same after a moment. He had had years of practice with Lord Bahl’s grief and temper over the murder of his lover, replayed in Bahl’s dreams, thanks to the Menin. He could recognise the tipping points well enough. ‘Vesna, you must believe me: it gives me no pleasure to remind you, but someone has to.’
‘Remind me of what?’
‘As much as it will make you laugh until you’re sick - remind you of your duty.’
Vesna gaped. ‘Duty? You think I care about duty now?’
‘Of course not.’ Lesarl held up a hand to stop the angry retort he could see forming on Vesna’s lips. ‘Lord Bahl taught me about duty: it’s a heartless mistress, but it binds as powerfully as love, or grief.’
He stood up and walked halfway around the desk. ‘Vesna, we’ve known each other for many years, and in all that time your duty has guided your actions and shaped the man you have become - a man who realised he was being offered a difficult, unforgiving path, and who had the courage to take it all the same.’
‘Whatever you’re getting at,’ Vesna said, rising and heading towards the door, ‘I’m not interested.’
‘Really?’ Lesarl said in a sour tone. ‘Then perhaps I was wrong all those years ago when I first asked you to work for me. I had thought you more than just a thug for hire. I didn’t think you’d ever be one to run away from your duty, not ever.’
Before he could blink Vesna had moved back to the desk and grabbed Lesarl by the throat, driving him backwards into a bookcase of files.
‘Enough of your shit! You’ve used me like a toy for years - in the service of your own sick sense of humour more than the tribe. Is this anything more than the petulance of a twisted child whose plaything has been stolen away? You sicken me, you and all those who play games with the lives of others! I’ve had enough of it; I’ve lost more in your games than anyone could be asked to give, and I’m not playing any more!’
‘You’ve lost?’ Lesarl gasped, ‘you accuse me of petulance? You claim you’ve lost more than anyone should?’ Vesna shook him like a dog, but Lesarl continued with sudden, rare anger, ‘Damn you, Vesna, you’re not the one who’s lost here; you’ve come out ahead of the rest of us and now you think you can just walk off with your winnings? Tila lost, Lord Isak lost, Lord Bahl lost - the Gods alone know how many soldiers who