enterprise may be just the grand folly of an ancient madwoman.” She moved closer still, voice dropping to a whisper. “Slip away. It’ll be easy for you amongst all this chaos.”
“You know I can’t.”
“You won’t be able to protect me whatever happens. Not here. Please.” She reached out to grasp his hand. “Go.”
His eyes lingered on her hand for a moment, struck by the warmth of it, familiar even after so many years. Then he caught sight of two figures standing between the great stones. They were both of impressive stature, although one was taller than the other by several inches. They stood motionless for a brief moment, then approached at an unhurried walk. Both were bare chested and bore no weapons, the taller of the two drinking from a large flask, his unruly mass of hair twisting in the stiff breeze that swept through the monoliths. The other man’s hands were empty and his hair was tied into a long tail that stretched down his back. His features had the pleasing angularity that seemed typical to the Stahlhast, the sharpness of his nose and chin an echo of Luralyn’s features. In contrast, his taller companion had a blunt, brutish aspect, marred by several recent bruises.
They came to a halt a few feet away, the shorter man executing a precise bow of respectful depth. His companion squinted at this with a half-amused grimace and continued to drink from his flask.
“Good evening,” the other man said, straightening. “Allow me to introduce myself.”
“You are Kehlbrand Reyerik,” Vaelin said. “Mestra-Skeltir to the Stahlhast.”
“I am indeed. But I’m sure you know I have another name. And you”—the man’s smile broadened to reveal a set of perfect white teeth—“have stolen it.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Vaelin said nothing, his gaze switching between Kehlbrand and the larger man. They both exuded an aura of physical strength and contained violence he had seen in only the most dangerous of people. He also suspected that, despite his repeated gulps from whatever beverage his flask contained, the taller man was very far from drunk.
“This is Obvar,” Kehlbrand said, noting Vaelin’s scrutiny. “My saddle brother and anointed Champion of the Darkblade.”
Obvar inclined his head at Vaelin. “You broke Babukir’s nose,” he said in heavily accented Chu-Shin. “Why do such an uncivilised thing?”
“I didn’t like him much,” Vaelin said. “And I’ve rarely been considered civilised.”
The large man’s lips betrayed a grin as he drank again, saying something to Kehlbrand in the Stahlhast tongue. Whether it was a witticism or an insult Vaelin couldn’t tell, but it failed to bring a smile to Kehlbrand’s face, merely a nod of satisfaction.
“You’re the healer my sister told me about?” he said, bowing to Sherin. “Come all this way to heal Varnko’s boy.”
“I am,” she said, returning the bow. “Sherin Unsa.”
“My people will have work aplenty for you, two mornings from now.” Kehlbrand gestured to the revelry beyond the stones. “Our celebrations tend to become more fractious as they go on. Blades will be drawn, blood will be spilled. Those who survive will need their wounds tended and stitched.”
“I shall be happy to lend a hand.”
This brought another grin to Obvar’s lips, though it was more sour than his first and the words he spoke held a tinge of disgust.
“‘Only the weak give succour to their enemy,’” Kehlbrand translated. “One of the lessons the priests would teach us. And one of many I’ve now forbidden to be spoken.” He fixed Obvar with a steady eye, Vaelin noting how the big man’s jaw clenched tight before he looked away. Kehlbrand’s gaze, however, continued to linger.
“Tell me, brother,” he said in a low, intent voice. “What do you make of our visitors from across the wide water?”
Obvar’s throat swelled as he took a series of hard, deep gulps from his flask, Vaelin noting how he still failed to meet Kehlbrand’s eye. He’s terrified of him, Vaelin realised.
“They look like us,” Obvar said, wiping a hand across his mouth as he lowered the flask. “But they are not us. This one has killed many, to be sure.” He jerked his head at Vaelin. “But still, they are not of the Hast, and any not of the Hast are weak and worthy only of conquest.”
Kehlbrand gave a weary laugh and returned his gaze to Vaelin. “You must forgive my brother, for his mind is so very limited. Mighty though he is, he has in truth seen little of this world, whilst you must have seen a great deal of it. Many lands, many