amongst many, no hand was raised against us. I soon came to understand that Kehlbrand had captured them that first day; his words now bound them tighter than any chain. We lived in their huts and suffered their stink whilst he organised the construction of sturdier homes, finding those amongst the artisans with building skills and setting them up as foremen. Hovels were duly torn down and new houses were crafted from the great piles of rubble that surrounded the tor. Every night we would eat with a different family and my brother would speak to them of our great mission.
“Your enslavement was a crime,” he would tell them as they listened, gazes rapt and tongues stilled by awe. “A crime visited upon you by a cabal of wicked men who call themselves priests. Long have they led the Stahlhast astray, long have they shielded us from the true word of the Unseen. Your liberation is but the first step towards the day when the crimes of the priests will be punished. For now we must build, craft something of such greatness they can never pull it down.”
At his insistence I spent most of my time tending the sick or teaching the Stahlhast tongue, always with a kindly smile on my lips I knew rarely touched my eyes. The artisans never regarded me with the same awe as they did my brother. Instead, I was treated with a wary respect, sometimes even reverence due to the blood I shared with their divine liberator.
“What am I doing here?” I asked him one evening as we sat together in the mean hut he had chosen for us. Kehlbrand had forbidden a move to one of the new houses until they were all completed. He had spent the day at work, as was his wont now, labouring under the guidance of a master builder who only weeks before had been nearly whipped to death for dropping an ore basket. Every day my brother rose with the dawn and worked until dark, although he never seemed to tire. I, however, sat slumped by the fire, wearied by a day that had made me witness the prolonged death of an infant boy from the flux.
“You don’t need me for this farce,” I added. “It’s you they worship.”
“I do need you,” he insisted. “I will not always be in their midst. In my absence you will be the Darkblade’s eyes. And more than that.” His expression grew more intent, voice lowering a notch. “You will also be my hunter.”
“Hunter? For what.”
“How many thousands reside in the shadow of the Fist? How many more will we find at the other tors?”
I gave a tired shrug. “A great deal, I suppose.”
“Yes, a great deal. And amongst so many, is it not reasonable to assume there are others like you?”
My weariness dissipated as understanding dawned, replaced with a growing unease. “You wish me to hunt out slaves with the Divine Blood.”
“We no longer use that word, dear sister. But yes. You will find them, and bring them to me.”
I lowered my gaze as unease gave way to fear. “The Laws Eternal dictate . . .”
“Any not of the Hast found to have the Divine Blood are to be killed, I know.” Sensing my fear, he shuffled closer, laying the hard muscular branch of his arm across my shoulders. “Since when have the Laws Eternal troubled us?”
“If they find out . . .”
“When they find out, you have my assurance it won’t matter.”
“How can you be so certain of everything? How can your path be so clear? I have dreamt none of this.”
His arm tightened, drawing me into the comforting heat of his body. “Because I answered the second question, remember?” he said, fingers playing through my hair. “Would you like to know the answer now?”
To my surprise, I didn’t. I recall a sense of disorientation in that moment, as if the world had shifted around me bringing change and knowledge I neither wanted nor understood. Even so, I had to know, for my fate was ever bound to his. “Yes, brother,” I said.
He hugged me tighter for a moment before gently easing me away and turning my face towards his. “‘What is the true nature of a god?’ That’s what the old bastard asked me. It is, of course, a ridiculous question. You can no more discern truth from the divine than spin gold from water. That was our brother’s answer, incidentally. Possessed of sufficient vagary and basic insight