The Wraiths of Will and Pleasure - By Storm Constantine Page 0,144

path behind them, blocking the way of any pursuers. He held a lance and a sword, and his being protected her.

Chapter Twenty One

The tributary to the Cloudy Serpent, called Little Drake, pours down from the eastern mountains. At first, it is fierce and white, as it tumbles over precipices and between narrow rocky channels, but gradually, it curbs its temper and flows smoothly, if purposefully, through fields and forests towards the south west.

In the early days, when the Varrs first fell to the Gelaming, you could travel up the river and see the signs of old battles all around you: blackened ruins, some with smoke still issuing from the timber, months after the initial fires; burial mounds that blocked out the sun, with ragged standards drooping at their summits; a general reek of unease and pain. Any Varrs you might meet, who were not even allowed to refer to themselves as such any more, were generally suspicious, dispirited or stultified. Gelaming commanders supervised rebuilding, and scouting parties still roamed the hills, rooting out the last of the Varr leader, Ponclast’s loyal followers. The Gelaming regarded themselves as a force for good, and in many ways they were, but they were also inexorable and their compassion could often feel like oppression.

Flick and Ulaume could not help but feel skittish passing through this territory. They were not, nor ever had been, Varrs, but strangers could very easily be mistaken for Varrish warriors in disguise and neither Flick nor Ulaume relished the idea of having to submit to interrogation.

It wasn’t until they began their journey east that they realised how vast the Varrish empire had spread and that the Uigenna had really only been minor players in the war with the Gelaming. One thing was upon everyhar’s lips, however: the Uigenna Wraxilan’s days were numbered. The Gelaming had a price on his head and he would not escape it. This gave the travellers some small comfort, because none of them had ever lost the fear that the Uigenna might pursue them, even if none of them spoke of it. But perhaps the Gelaming might be worse than the Uigenna, especially so if Mima and Lileem should be discovered. The Gelaming advocated a kind of Wraeththu purity, which even in the least educated breast kindled feelings of discomfort and unease, echoing as it did similar obsessions by earlier human conquerors.

To Flick, it was like emerging from a dream. Orien had whisked him away from the scenes of conflict to hide him in Saltrock, and his life since leaving his first Wraeththu home had been one of isolation. He hadn’t heard much news, only rumours, and the stories that Terez had told them, but now they were travelling through the real world and it drew them into itself. Wraeththu fought for power, and stronger hara could affect the lives of those weaker than themselves.

Lileem appeared to be fairly comfortable, although Flick suspected she still kept a lot to herself. The voices in her head and the presences in her dreams did not leave her, but they were less strident as she continued to head east. As to where they came from and what might be waiting for her at the end of the journey, she did not know, but Flick was reassured by the fact that she did not appear to fear it. She had turned to the dehara for comfort, and Flick knew she was disappointed that Flick appeared to have lost interest in the gods he had dreamed up. Ulaume, however, had taken up where Flick had left off, and was quite happy to meditate with Lileem, so that they could gather visualised imagery about the dehara.

Once, Lileem confronted Flick and told him that Aruhani was displeased he had turned away from him.

‘No he isn’t,’ Flick snapped angrily. ‘Don’t make things up.’

‘Wasn’t that what we were always doing?’ Lileem countered. ‘Didn’t you say we couldn’t really make anything up, that everything we can think of exists in the universe somewhere already? What happened, Flick? The dehara were yours. Why don’t you like them any more?’

Flick could not tell her how he had come to believe that Aruhani was a terrible and perverted force. It was Aruhani who had made him enjoy being with Wraxilan, who had encouraged him to perform disgusting sado-masochistic acts with the Uigenna leader for several unforgettable nights. Flick could never forgive himself for that, and he thought that in conjuring dehara, he’d been playing with a force that was