The Wraiths of Will and Pleasure - By Storm Constantine Page 0,146

felt almost threatened, even more so when the pot-har sat down next to them.

‘You’re from the west, aren’t you,’ he said.

‘No,’ said Ulaume.

‘Yes,’ said Flick.

The pot-har laughed. ‘You don’t look like Uigenna…!’

‘We’re not,’ Flick said and Ulaume shook his head.

‘We are just travelling hara who like to keep our heads down in these troubled times,’ Ulaume said.

Again, the pot har laughed. ‘Troubled times? You’ve been travelling too far and too long, tiahaara. There is nothing to fear around here. This is Parsic land.’

‘Parsic?’ Flick frowned. ‘What’s that?’

‘Swift the Varr, who is the son of Terzian, a great Varrish warrior, toppled Ponclast with the help of the Gelaming. After that, the Varrs became the tribe of Parasiel. We are no longer Varrish but Parsic.’

‘I see,’ said Flick. ‘We have been out in the wilderness for a long time. This is all news to us.’

‘You can let down your defences now. Come, wipe those suspicious frowns from your faces. Rejoice, as we all do. The Golden Age has begun.’

There was a fanatical edge to these suggestions that Flick balked at. Ulaume caught his eye and grimaced. We belong to nohar, Flick thought, and that’s the way it’s going to stay. ‘It’s good you feel that way,’ Flick said. ‘We’ve seen a lot of devastation on our journey east.’

‘It will soon be cleared away,’ said the pot-har. ‘Lord Swift will see to it.’ He stood up. ‘Well, I’d best be back to the kitchen, because this place will be heaving with hara within the hour. Enjoy your ale, tiahaara.’

‘Well!’ Flick said, after the pot-har had disappeared back into the inn. ‘This is all a bit surreal.’

‘Swift the Varr,’ Ulaume said, his eyes narrow with thought. ‘Didn’t Terez mention him in connection with Cal?’

Flick sighed deeply. ‘Yes. The name is familiar. I think Cal mentioned him to me too, but I can’t remember what he said.’

‘We are in his lands,’ Ulaume said. ‘Flick…’

‘I know,’ Flick said. ‘We could use this opportunity to glean information about Pell.’

‘You don’t sound happy or enthusiastic about it.’

‘We are here because of Lileem. We shouldn’t take risks of being delayed or worse.’

‘You don’t want to know, do you?’ Ulaume said. ‘Not really. You want Pell to stay dead.’

Flick merely shrugged.

‘Have you ever thought he might be responsible for what’s happening to Lee?’

‘Yes I have,’ Flick answered abruptly.

‘Then…’

‘You don’t understand, Lor,’ Flick interrupted. ‘It’s complicated for me. My feelings for it all are so mixed, I don’t know what they are.’

‘We don’t talk about him,’ Ulaume said. ‘We don’t talk about anything seriously, and perhaps we should.’ Unconsciously, he’d reached up to touch his head. His hair had grown past his shoulders, but he was too careful about it, kept it wrapped up when he didn’t need to. ‘If the Parasiel and the Gelaming rid the world of Uigenna, can they be all that bad?’

‘I thought the Kakkahaar scorned Gelaming,’ Flick said.

‘I am no longer Kakkahaar. We are unthrist, Flick, without a tribe.’

‘By Aru, you’re not pining for it, are you?’ Flick asked, louder than he intended. ‘I thought you liked it this way, just the four of us.’

‘I was simply stating a fact,’ Ulaume said. ‘To be honest, I don’t know what I want.’

The hara who came to drink at the inn all appeared sleek, well fed and fit and were more than happy to talk to strangers. Everyhar suggested that the best place to seek work was in Galhea, which was only a few miles north east. The biggest farms could be found there, which always needed extra labour to make ready for winter.

Flick could tell Ulaume took this as an omen, and wondered whether they’d be arguing about it later. There might be little to argue about though. Galhea was a big place and Swift a prominent figure. Flick and Ulaume were inconsequential, small hara in a vast world. There was no reason why they shouldn’t seek work there for a while and do some investigating at the same time. Any newcomer to the area would be interested in recent history. Flick and Ulaume’s questions wouldn’t be seen as suspicious and they had learned how to be unnoticeable.

On the way back to ‘Esmeraldarine’, Ulaume was silent, and Flick intuited he was formulating the right spell of words to invoke the response he wanted. For a while, Flick let him struggle, then said, ‘We could go tomorrow. We probably have enough fuel.’

‘Are you sure?’ Ulaume asked.

‘No, but you are.’

‘I am,’ Ulaume said. ‘Thanks. I was expecting a fight