afterlife for as long as possible - you pledged your soul to a daemon, remember.’
He nodded, not wanting to get into that argument again. Offering his soul had not been part of the plan.
‘It’s time. Go and fetch Isak, if you can shift him.’
‘And if I can’t?’
‘Bring Xeliath by yourself.’
He set off along the lake shore towards the small house. Daima was keeping watch inside, a grim expression on her face and a thin pipe clamped between her teeth. The only table in the main room was taken up by Xeliath’s body, wrapped in a length of green canvas.
‘It’s time,’ Daima said, grimacing as she pulled on her pipe, as if the tobacco had soured. It took her a while to get up; she had been sitting with the body for hours while he dug the grave.
Mihn looked at Isak, who was lying on a makeshift bed, his back against the far wall, staring at the floor. His arms and legs were drawn into his body and his lips moved slightly, as though he was whispering to himself, though Mihn could hear no sound. Every once in a while Isak’s eyes would widen, then he would take a heaving breath, almost as if he was surprised at the need to breathe once more. He was oblivious to anyone else’s presence.
‘Did you expect anything different?’ Daima asked. ‘It most probably felt like years to him.’
‘Have you checked his bandages?’
‘Aye, and he’s healing even quicker than you’d expect of his kind. Still hasn’t spoken, though.’
‘Not at all?’
‘Hasn’t even noticed I’m here. Give him time; some things don’t heal as fast as others.’
Mihn walked over to Isak, and his body tensed a little more as Mihn’s shadow fell over him. His scars seemed to darken, even more than they should in the shadow, and Mihn heard the faintest of whimpers break the silence.
‘Isak,’ Mihn whispered, crouching down beside him, ‘Isak, can you hear me?’
There was no response, but when Mihn tried to take Isak’s hand he felt the massive muscles tense and it was drawn in protectively. Mihn applied a touch more pressure, but he got nowhere. However gaunt he now looked, the white-eye was more than double Mihn’s body-weight; it would be impossible to move him if he decided to resist.
Mihn gave up for now and went to gather Xeliath in his arms.
‘Isak, we have to bury Xeliath,’ he said, trying one last time, but there was no response. With a sigh Mihn headed for the door, leaving Isak to shiver and whisper alone.
‘A wounded animal takes time to coax round,’ Daima said as they rounded the house and headed for the grave. ‘Let it happen at its own pace.’
At the tree-line Mihn could see the pale faces of the gentry watching them. The forest spirits wouldn’t help or hinder, but they often watched funerals from afar - the one act of reverence they appeared to approve of. Mihn was startled when the caw of a solitary raven overhead prompted low mutters and growls from the watching gentry.
‘That is what worries me,’ Mihn replied after a while. ‘The animal inside Isak is a dangerous one. What if that is all that is left?’
It was night by the time General Gaur returned to the Akell quarter of the Circle City. With his right arm bandaged he rode awkwardly, accompanied by a disordered group of his huntsmen. It was only the quality of his armour that distinguished him from the ragged champion Lord Styrax had extended a hand to in the fighting pits of Kravern, the great city at the entrance to the Ring of Fire. The decades since had not touched the beastman other than the faintest of silvering around his dark muzzle.
He passed Lord Styrax’s guards without being challenged; a grey-haired huntsman at his side. They entered the dark officers’ mess without knocking and sank to their knees.
‘My Lord,’ the men said in unison, their heads bowed.
‘The Duchess of Byora came to see me,’ Styrax said, his voice sounding tired. ‘She came to remind me of my duties as her liege lord.’
When Gaur saw the fatigue in his lord’s eyes he felt a flicker of alarm. Never before had he seen the white-eye appear so weak, so exhausted. The room smelled of old smoke and sweat, and whatever was burning in the fireplace hadn’t been stored properly; though it took the edge off the chill in the room, it smelled sour, and smoked badly.