to devote himself to the service of your God. Recent history aside, the structure of our military does not allow for religious status. I have consulted the law and the matter is unclear, but I believe any soldier or officer who takes holy orders must be relieved of their military positions.’
‘You would allow the Farlan’s most experienced general to leave?’
Lesarl shrugged. ‘If he were a priest, I would have no option - my only choice would be whether or not to prosecute him. That aside, he - and any other soldier in that position - would be free to chart their own course, or that of their God, naturally.’
‘I see,’ Vesna said. ‘And if those soldiers took some mementos of their former lives, such as horses, weapons and armour, that might be overlooked.’
‘If their commanding officer were a sentimental type? Doubtless.’ Lesarl gestured to the open door to his office. ‘None of this could possibly be condoned by the Lord of the Farlan, of course, having signed a treaty with the Menin, but he can hardly be blamed for the actions of a few religious fanatics.’ He paused. ‘Not twice, anyway. At any rate, Vesna, I have much work to be getting on with and you look like a man with some hard thinking to do. Perhaps you should consult your God, as my father used to say.’
‘My God? I’m not sure I can stomach that yet.’
‘Duty, my friend, does worse than sicken us,’ Lesarl said gravely as he ushered Vesna out, ‘but either we endure it, or we fall. There will be no second chances in this game.’
The Chief Steward returned to his desk and brandished another leather file. ‘We live in times where men kill even Harlequins - Harlequins, for pity’s sake! Whether or not that has to do with Mihn’s self-appointed mission, it’s astonishing; it’s madness. These are the times we live in now, Vesna, when nothing is sacred. Our efforts now may be all that determine what of the Land survives these events that have been set in motion — whether they be they men, tribes or Gods.’
Vesna’s face was ashen as he left. Lesarl shut the door behind him and stood with one hand pressed against the wood for a while. It was cold to the touch, polished smooth, and stained by age.
He faced the seat where Tila had worked alongside him the past few months, and murmured, ‘Thank the Gods I was not born a hero. I would not wish that on any man.’
CHAPTER 29
‘Well, engineer, will it work?’
The engineer froze in his tracks, like a rabbit that had seen the eagle’s shadow. Lips pressed firmly together, he turned to Lord Styrax, but it didn’t do any good. As soon as he looked directly at the black-armoured warrior his nerve failed and he began to hiccough.
The wyvern behind him was constantly trying to eat any horse that came near, and, according to the sergeant escorting him, it had only recently learned not to try and eat General Gaur. Its savagery was blunted, rather than tamed, and he was scared of it, yet the statue-still Lord of the Menin somehow unnerved him more.
‘Aye, I believe so, my Lord,’ he replied cautiously, remembering to bow only after he’d spoken. ‘It’s a battering ram; there’s not much to go wrong.’ The engineer wasn’t a real soldier, and the campaign had taken its toll. He felt exhausted, and as out of place as he looked, this fat little man of fifty summers, but every battle won took him a step closer to home, so even the task of fitting wheels to a huge tree-trunk had been carried out with exacting care.
Styrax turned and the man wilted under his scrutiny. ‘I know that, engineer,’ he said, no trace of emotion in his voice. ‘You are not a man of nostalgia, it appears.’
For a moment the Menin lord’s gaze drifted away into the distance. There were dark circles around his eyes, indications that Kastan Styrax was still just a man, and grieved as any would, but the white irises were colder than ever.
‘Ah — ’ He tried to reply, but found his mind empty of words. Last time Styrax had spoken those words to him, Lord Kohrad had been at his side, ready to prove himself to his father. The very idea of bantering with a grieving white-eye made his limbs tremble.
As the tribe’s foremost expert in artillery and siege weapons, he knew only too well what terrifying forces could