

The Clouds Have the Answer

Brian H. Jones

Copyright © 2019 Brian H Jones

Smashwords Edition

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CHAPTER ONE: WHEN LAND AND PEOPLE MEET THE SEA

Gersina said, 'I'm telling you, Sanze, one day we'll conquer the Dornites. We'll take their land all the way from here to the coast.'

'Oh yes? What makes you think so?'

Gersina looked hard at Sanze, the yellow flecks in his eyes glinting. 'There's a prophecy that says, "Berina one day shall be free, when land and people meet the sea." I believe it.'

'Prophecy? Ha! That's not a prophecy. It's just something that Aggam made up.'

'It has nothing to do with that old fool Aggam. It comes straight from the oracle at Sininda.'

Sanze grunted sceptically and settled back against a rock, basking in the warmth of the sun. When land and people reach the sea? It was a hopeless dream. Even at that early age, Sanze suspected that dreams and visions betray you like wraiths that lead their credulous victims into fathomless swamps.

Ten years earlier, Sanze and Gersina cemented their friendship while they suffered together in school. They hated school and they hated their teacher, Aggam. With comradely fortitude, they endured their beatings in tight-lipped silence, never showing signs of pain. Whack! Whack! The blows would descend on their shoulders while Aggam, panting, eyes glinting, would roar exultantly, 'Aha! Too proud to cry, are you? We'll break that stubborn streak, won't we, eh?' Whack! Whack! But the more Aggam beat them, the more they bit their lips, clenched their fists, and retreated into baleful silence.

However, all that was behind them. They had served their time in school and now they were free from Aggam's corrosive control.

Sanze and Gersina sat there companionably, looking over the hills that fell away below their feet while they watched the sheep grazing. What was there to say? Prophecy or no prophecy, even shepherd boys could see how matters stood. The Dornites controlled the fertile plains and the coast. Here in the uplands, the grazing was thin and sparse. Life was hard and insecure. To make matters worse, there was always the danger of an attack by the Dornites, who treated the land, people, and property of Berina like their private beehives, to be raided at their pleasure.

On that far-off, golden-hazy day, they only left the hilltop when the sun began to sink lower in the sky. Getting to his feet, Gersina jerked a thumb and said, 'I guess we'd better round up the sheep.' He was right. Even at night, it was risky to be so far to the east in no-man's land. They would have to move the sheep further into the hills.

After they herded the flocks into a dead-end ravine and secured the entrance with thorny branches, they made their camp on the slope above the mouth of the ravine. It was too risky to light a fire, so they dined on cheese and bread before they dug indentations in the sand, spread their blankets, and fell asleep.

Early next morning, Sanze awoke with a hand over his mouth and with Gersina, hissing into his ear: 'Quiet! There's someone down below!' Peering over the top of a boulder, they saw two men dragging away the branches while farther up the ravine, a third man was marshalling the sheep. They were Dornite rustlers; each carried a sword as well as three spears in quiver-like holders.

Sanze's pulse raced as he realised just how close they were to capture or death. Death? Probably not. The Dornites preferred to take people alive, to be sold as slaves. Boy captives were usually castrated, to serve as eunuchs on the islands that dotted the Endless Ocean. Sometimes they were sold to be raised as soldiers in one of the Dornite city-states.

What could two boys do, far from home, faced with three fully-grown, well-armed enemies? Watching the men and the sheep as they disappeared from the ravine, Gersina grimaced and rubbed his chin while he said thoughtfully, 'We have to narrow the odds.'

'How?'

'They don't know that we're here. Our big advantage is surprise.'

'And...?'

'We'll take them one by one. That way we'll always be stronger than they are.'

Sanze muttered, 'Right! Let's go.' His hands were trembling and his knees felt like they needed to be clamped in a vice to keep them steady. However, above fear and above apprehension, he was seething with the anger of a people who had been beaten, exploited, and oppressed for too long.

As they scrambled down the slope, Gersina took hold of Sanze's wrist and muttered, 'Do you believe that Zabrazal cares for us?' Sanze nodded and Gersina continued, 'Then pray that he is with us now.' Even as he said it, Sanze shot a quick, enquiring look at Gersina. Not for the first time, Sanze suspected that Gersina didn't really believe in the grace of Zabrazal. True enough, Zabrazal did seem to be a long way from them—a long way from two boys in an isolated ravine faced with three well-armed Dornite raiders. Guiltily, Sanze prayed, 'Oh, Zabrazal, forgive me! Oh, Zabrazal, we know that you care for us and that you are always with us. Oh, Zabrazal, defender of Berina, be with us now and I will burn five scented candles in the temple when we return safely to Osicedi.'

From the ridge they could see that one man was at the head of the flock, one was to the side where the hillside fell away, and one was bringing up the rear, isolated from the other two. When he stopped to relieve himself, Gersina struck him with a stone from his sling. The man dropped onto his hands and knees, swinging his head groggily and groaning. Sanze hesitated for a moment but Gersina hissed, 'Kill him, man!' Gritting his teeth, Sanze ran forward, closed his eyes, and drove his spear downward. It hit the Dornite in the side and he rolled onto his back, screaming and clutching at the wound. During the forty years that followed, although Sanze killed and wounded more enemies than he could remember, he never forgot the sounds that the man made as he lay writhing on the ground. This was a man, not a wolf, and to Sanze it was horrifying and repulsive.

In time, he would get used to it.

Gersina cried, 'Finish him off, man!' Sanze clenched his fists, summoned his will-power, took aim at the man's stomach, closed his eyes and, with two-handed force drove the spear downward. It went in easily, like a knife into soft earth and not at all like a spear thudding into a target. Then, while the man died with a gurgle and a moan, Sanze leaned on the spear with his eyes closed and tried to stop himself from gagging.

Gersina barked hoarsely, 'Pull your spear out, man! He's dead.'

Sanze straightened and withdrew the spear. It came out reluctantly as if the flesh had already claimed it. Without looking at it, Sanze cleaned the point by rubbing it in the sand. Then curiosity got the upper hand and he examined the dead man. Lying there on his back in the dust, the man didn't look like one of the Dornite bogeymen with which the mothers of Berina frightened their children. In fact, he looked crumpled and pathetic.

The man wore a silver disc on a chain around his neck. One side had an image of a Dornite god, while the other side had a scratchy inscription that read, 'Janali makes this loving gift to Selek.' Holding the disc, Sanze wondered who Janali was. Was she the man's mother, his girlfriend, or perhaps his wife? As Sanze held the disc in his hand, for a wrenching moment he wished that their paths had never crossed. Oh, Zabrazal, thought Sanze, if you really watch over us, couldn't you have arranged things otherwise? But that was only a fleeting thought. When Sanze remembered who the man was and what he had done, his resolve hardened. What did one dead Dornite matter? Why should he care? After all, the Dornites cared nothing for them. Tight-mouthed, Sanze put the disc into his pouch to keep as a souvenir. He might even be able to sell it.

Suddenly Sanze's knees went weak and he wanted to vomit. As he stood there gagging, Gersina shook his shoulder and said, 'No time for that, man! Help me get him out of the way.'

In a daze, Sanze helped drag the body behind a pile of rocks. Gersina said, 'Help me to prop him up.'

'Prop him up? Why?'

'Someone will come back to look for him.'

'For sure! That's why we ought to hide him.'

'Not so! Anyone coming to look for him will have to pass us. He'll be a good target.'

Gersina's plan worked perfectly. Soon, one of the rustlers came towards them at a trot, looking worried. He spotted the body, stopped, and called out. The first shot from Gersina's sling killed him. Sanze thanked Zabrazal that he didn't have to finish him off with his spear.

Two down and one to go! Two hunters and only one prey.

They caught up with the third rustler where the ravine widened into an open stretch of hillside. Gersina's first shot hit the man in an eye, and he collapsed onto his knees screaming in pain. The second shot hit him on the side of his head and he toppled over, twitching. Sanze finished him off with his spear. It wasn't easy, but at least Sanze knew what to expect.

They dragged the body up the side of the ravine, scratched out a shallow trench behind a boulder, and covered it with earth and rocks. Hopefully it wouldn't be visible from the floor of the ravine even if wolves or wild dogs dug it up. Then, as they drove the sheep homeward, they paused to bury the other two bodies in the same manner.

That night, they stopped at the same dead-end ravine as the previous night. They hardly slept and at first light they began to drive the sheep towards Osicedi. Although they didn't say much to each other, it was clear that they both had the same thought: they wanted to get home and they wanted to do it fast.

When Osicedi came into sight, Gersina cried triumphantly, 'We did it, Sanze, we did it!' Grinning, he thumped Sanze on his back.

Sanze replied, 'Maybe.'

'What do you mean—maybe? All's well that ends well, man.'

'What if their comrades come after us?'

'Huh! Those men were just lone rustlers. Nobody cares what happens to them.'

Although Sanze said nothing, he wasn't convinced.

Sanze was leaning over the rail watching the sheep file into the pen when someone said, 'Hello, Sanze. Where have you been?'

It was Roda. She was standing by his elbow, so close that he could smell the aroma of freshly baked bread and rose-petal scent that lingered about her. Keeping his voice steady—it wasn't easy—Sanze said, 'We've just brought the sheep back from the hills.' He tried to sound casual even while his body was stirring and tingling.

Roda wrinkled her nose and whispered with what sounded like a mixture between a warning and satisfaction, 'Everyone is looking for you, you know!'

Sanze replied, 'I guessed that might be the case.'

Roda's violet eyes widened as she moved a little closer. She was always doing that, standing so close that, with one small dip of his head, Sanze could have laid his cheek against the top of her head. Sometimes the instinct to do so was so overpowering that he had to move away feeling foolish. This time, when he shifted away, Roda's eyes glinted as if she had gained a small victory. Now she put a hand on his wrist and asked in a concerned voice, 'Did you have any trouble?'

For a moment Sanze was tempted to tell her the whole story. In those days, he always wanted to impress her, if only to hear her suck in her breath and say huskily, 'Oh, Sanze, fancy that!' He was still wondering how much to tell her, if anything at all, when Gersina called, 'Roda! Hey, Roda, come over here!' She turned away, giving Sanze a knowing look. She squeezed his hand, pressing her fingers into the flesh, even as she called out, 'Oh, Gersina, I've been so worried. You shouldn't stay away so long.'

Gersina grinned and called, 'I can take care of myself, Roda. No worries!'

They walked away together, conversing in low voices. Sanze watched them resentfully, wondering what Gersina had that he didn't have.

As they expected, there was a fuss when they arrived home. However, they stuck to their story about being delayed because they had to find a lost animal. After a while, the fuss subsided, and life returned to normal.

Unfortunately, normality didn't last long. A Dornite search party found one or more of the bodies, put two and two together, and managed to follow the tracks to Osicedi. Five nights later and without any warning, they attacked the town. The raiders had an easy passage because guards were only posted during periods of general alarm and as this was a time of relative peace. Consequently, the raiders were able to make their way right into the centre of Osicedi before they were discovered.

Although there was a lot of damage and several injuries, only three people were killed. An elderly couple burned to death in their house and the raiders killed one of Gersina's older brothers when the men of his family spilled out of their house just as the raiding party was approaching. People in night attire were no match for fully armed assailants.

For three days after the attack, Gersina closeted himself in his room, refusing food. He only came out of seclusion to attend the funeral. At the graveside, he looked morose, shaken, and subdued. As the earth was being shovelled into the grave, Gersina muttered to Sanze, 'One day the Dornites will pay for this.'

After such a disaster, the escapade with the rustlers couldn't be concealed any longer. When their fathers had finished raging and slapping them about, and after they had endured their mothers' tears and recriminations, Sanze and Gersina were reprimanded at a town meeting. Next, they had to submit to a cleansing ceremony in the temple where the priests implored Zabrazal to forgive their lack of truthfulness. For Sanze, the ceremony was the worst aspect of the affair. He was certain that Zabrazal would have his all-seeing eye on him from that time onward. How else could it be, when they had to kneel at the altar, the centre of attention for nearly an hour, while the chief priest and the congregation sang, prayed and chanted, and the assistant priests walked around swinging their cleansing censers? Sanze was weighed down by the ominous feeling that he had vaulted to the top of Zabrazal's watch-list.

However, it wasn't all gloom. Privately, a lot of people admired them. Even old Aggam expressed his grudging approval when he stopped to speak to them in the street. That was something that had never happened before—and never would again, very likely.

CHAPTER TWO: BERINA HAS A KING

When Gersina and Sanze were twenty years of age, the struggle against the enemy reached a crisis. The Dornite city-states not only formed an alliance under a single military command, but also developed new military tactics based on cavalry and chariots. As success followed success, the Dornites began to widen the scope of their operations. With its lower hills and east-facing uplands, Upper Berina felt the pressure first as the raiding forces swept in against towns and villages, burning, looting, rounding up livestock, and capturing young men and women. Soon, the Dornites occupied a swathe of territory that had belonged to Berina for centuries.

In the face of this crisis, there was rising demand for action to counter the Dornites. From all over, the cry went up for a king to lead Berina. Finally, bowing to the pressure, the high priest, Izebol, convened an Assembly of the Nation.

Gersina and Sanze were appointed to accompany the delegation from Osicedi. Although they were excited at the prospect of seeing fabled sights, Sininda—holiest place of Berina, seat of the high priest, site of the foremost oracle—disappointed them. In fact, Sininda was just a collection of small houses, shacks, workshops, stalls, and storerooms. The only impressive thing about Sininda was the temple, which rose up the hillside in three levels and dwarfed everything else in the valley.

Although the debates and declamations in the temple courtyard were intense and passionate, the issue was simple and clear-cut: was Berina to continue without a king, in acknowledgement that Zabrazal always had been, and always would be, its 'divine leader', as the priests put it; or was it time to appoint an earthly king?

Two days later, the Assembly convened on a grassy slope on the outskirts of Sininda. Standing on a platform, Izebol began the proceedings by sacrificing a white goat on an altar. After he examined the entrails and declared that the omens were good, he began scolding the People of Berina for being unfaithful to Zabrazal. Raising his priestly rod in both hands, Izebol declaimed, 'Fools! You want to become like the nations around you, abandoning your god for the false glitter of earthly splendour.'

A roar of dissatisfaction greeted this pronouncement and, as the noise subsided, a stocky man of about forty years of age with broad shoulders and strong thighs stood up. His hair, thick and tawny, was unfashionably long and unruly as if he brandished it in the face of convention. He wore a soldier's jerkin and stood with his legs planted firmly apart like a man who knew how to weather a gale. Izebol looked at him calmly from under glowering brows and called out, 'You may speak, Kainar.'

Gersina whispered, 'That's Kainar of Maletar. They say that he might be elected king if the assembly gets to vote.'

Kainar planted his hands on his hips, looked around calmly and called out, 'We are well acquainted with the mercies of Zabrazal.'

Izebol replied dourly, 'So you should be!'

Kainar looked around as confidently as if he was in the bosom of his family and replied, 'We have heard that Zabrazal is angry. But we have not heard his answer to our request.' There was a roar of approval.

Izebol glared at the delegates and called out, 'You want Zabrazal's answer? Good! Now hear the words of our god!' He raised his rod and declaimed, 'Zabrazal says that Berina may have what it wants!' There was another roar of approval. Izebol waved the assembly to silence and continued, 'However, Zabrazal reminds Berina that it will have to deal with the consequences of its wilful choice.' He stretched upwards, his imposing head turned skyward, and cried, 'Berina may have its king if that is what Berina wants!' Then he put down his priestly rod, glowered at the delegates, and said ominously, 'May Zabrazal have mercy on Berina!'

As expected, the delegates voted for the monarchy by an overwhelming majority. When the result was announced, Izebol raised his hands and gave a theatrical cry of exasperation. But he recovered quickly enough—after all, it was a foregone conclusion—and called for the sacred dice.

Amidst a clamour of dissatisfaction, Kainar rose and protested that the delegates, not the dice, should decide. Izebol waved Kainar aside and cried, 'If you wanted to consult with Zabrazal, then why did you come here? Go somewhere else and decide on your own! Don't ask Izebol, high priest of Zabrazal, to officiate.'

While the assembly settled down, Gersina whispered to Sanze, 'Kainar is strong-minded. He doesn't respect the priests. He doesn't have a chance.'

'You reckon that someone else will be chosen?'

Gersina replied, 'Of course. The sacred dice reflect the will of Zabrazal, and Zabrazal protects the interests of the priests.' He winked ironically.

As the dice rolled, the priests supervised the process of elimination, tribe by tribe, town by town, and clan by clan, until only the family of Dorgile from Maletar remained. Maletar was in the south-west of Berina, where the mountains and the highlands gave way to the grasslands and meandering rivers of the endless interior. The region had a long tradition of producing entrepreneurs and traders; it had easy access to parts of the coastline, and it also traded with the fertile hinterland across the Great River.

However, the people of Maletar weren't only shopkeepers and traders. They had a tradition of producing scholars and priests from the celebrated Academy of Philosophy. In fact, six of the last eight high priests, Izebol included, had come from Maletar and its academy.

One by one, Dorgile's eight sons were eliminated until only Vaxili remained. He was a man of about forty years of age with a slender build and a well-formed face that was marred by a scar that ran from the outer corner of his right eye to under his ear. The scar had contracted the skin around his eye so that Vaxili always seemed to be looking askance at the world. He also limped, dragging his left foot.

Soon after Vaxili was crowned, a rumour spread that he got his injuries while fighting heroically against the Dornites. However, his detractors circulated a rival story, namely that Vaxili was injured when he fell out of a tree while spying on a neighbor's daughter in her bedroom.

That afternoon, Vaxili was crowned King of Berina. The people were happy—most of them, anyway—Izebol was sulky, and Zabrazal...well, who knew what Zabrazal was thinking?

CHAPTER THREE: A FAVOUR

A month later, Sanze was on the road that led southward from Osicedi towards Upper Berina. After the recent rains, it was pleasant to sit on the box of the swaying wagon enjoying the aromas of the countryside while looking across the swaying backs of the oxen at the pastures and the hills that fringed the valley.

Sanze's daydream was interrupted when someone grasped his arms from behind. Bandits? As he tried to reach for his dagger, a voice said, 'Keep calm! It's only me.'

'Damn you, Gersina! You scared me. What are you doing here?'

Gersina crawled out from among the bales and scrambled onto the seat. He dusted himself off, looked around warily, and asked, 'Are we alone?'

'Except for a team of oxen, ten dancing girls, and a marching band following the wagon—yes, we're alone.'

Still looking around warily, Gersina said edgily, 'I need your help.'

'If you wanted a ride, you could have asked me! You didn't have to skulk in the back of the wagon like a thief.'

Gersina settled back and said confidentially, 'I'm in trouble.'

'What sort of trouble?'

'I guess you could call it woman trouble.'

'Oho, let me guess! Trouble with Roda?' Gersina nodded morosely while Sanze continued, 'Why am I not surprised?'

'Hey, Sanze, don't take that tone with me! I'm sick and tired of hearing it.'

'Then you'd better explain what's going on.'

Sanze had good reason for saying that he wasn't surprised. Roda had turned into a robust and shapely young woman. With her vitality, flashing glances, bubbly laugh, and low-cut gowns, Roda could make any man yearn with desire. To enhance her desirability, she was the daughter of one of the wealthiest families in Osicedi. People said that Roda could have just about any man that she wanted. Then they winked and added that, in fact, that was exactly what was happening.

Gersina's story was simple and predictable. He had got involved with Roda about four months earlier. Sanze saw it happening and, like a lot of people, he never could understand why he took up with her. Gersina was good-looking and well built, with quick intelligence and a pleasing manner. He came from a respected family and had good prospects. His generosity and easy-going nature blunted the envy even of those who resented the fact that they weren't as gifted as he was. Men respected Gersina and women liked him. In short, Gersina didn't have to compromise his reputation by taking up with a flighty woman like Roda. He could have had just about any eligible woman that he wanted and, what was more, he could have had her in the honourable way.

Gersina hesitated before he said, 'Roda's father is after my blood.'

Sanze grunted. 'Now you're going to tell me that Roda is pregnant?'

'No. Not that I know of, anyway.'

'Ah! That's a relief! But the fact is that she could well be. Not so?'

Gersina said sulkily, 'That's no business of yours.'

'You want my help, but I shouldn't ask for details, eh? Is that how it is?'

Gersina couldn't meet Sanze's eyes. After a while, head averted, he asked in the same sulky voice, 'Are you going to help me or not?'

'Help you sight unseen? No ways!'

For a while, they sat there in truculent silence. Then Gersina muttered, 'You were right.'

'About what could have been?'

Gersina nodded and continued, 'She told her father that I had—well, you know, that we had done what—you know—what you said...'

'She told her father that you slept together?' Gersina nodded morosely. Sanze asked, 'Why in the name of Zabrazal would she do a thing like that?'

Gersina bit his lip and said in a thin voice, 'She wants to marry me.'

'Ah! What a surprise! So, if I've got this right, she goes to her father and says, "Papa, dear Papa, Gersina has ruined me. There's only one way for me to salvage what remains of my virtue and that is for Gersina to marry me." Am I correct?'

Gersina muttered, 'You've got it.'

'Can't you just pay compensation and keep it quiet?'

Gersina shook his head morosely and grunted, 'They won't accept it.'

Sanze sat back and thought about the matter. If Roda's family wouldn't accept compensation, according to law he had to marry her. If he didn't, then he could be imprisoned or sent into exile. The law was strict about the rights of violated women—or, more correctly, the law was strict about the rights of violated fathers.

While the oxen jogged along and the wagon creaked and swayed, Sanze considered the question of how to extricate Gersina from his predicament. After a while, he snapped his fingers and asked, 'Are you the only man that she has slept with?' Gersina gave him a wondering look and Sanze continued, 'I was just checking. But, hey—that's the way out for you?'

'How come?'

'It's simple. You just have to get someone else to admit that they've done the same, and you're off the hook.'

Gersina replied despondently, 'More easily said than done.' Sanze grunted, still thinking the matter through. Gersina continued, 'Do you think that someone will just step forward and say, "Hey, here I am! I slept with Roda?" No ways!' Gersina snorted. 'Anyway, I can't go back to Osicedi. Her father is a madman. He wants to beat me up and then haul me into the temple to marry Roda. His workers are out looking for me right now.'

Sanze couldn't help grinning when he asked, 'Are you sure they aren't coming down the road after you?'

Gersina looked around uneasily and said, 'No, I reckon I'm safe. No one saw me getting into the wagon.'

They travelled in silence for a while before Sanze said, 'I think I can fix it for you.'

In Osicedi, Sanze found someone who would admit to having slept with Roda, against payment for making a sworn statement to that effect. That was the easy part. The difficult part was convincing Gersina's father to part with the money. However, after ten minutes of roaring and raging, he calmed down and agreed that it was better to pay the money than have his son married to a woman like Roda. When that was settled, Sanze had a confidential conversation with Roda. He pointed out to her that if her former lover—or lovers, if required—made sworn statements before a priest, they would do so in the presence of all the elders as well as anyone else who chose to be present. In no time at all, the matter would be the talk of the town.

Not surprisingly, Roda and her father abandoned their claims on Gersina.

Gersina stayed away from Osicedi until things cooled down. When he returned, he said to Sanze, 'You're a true friend. I will never forget what you did for me.' In gratitude, he gave Sanze a leather belt. The belt, which was broad and sturdy with a bronze buckle, was engraved with an intricate pattern of mythical beasts intertwined in struggle. It was foreign and fantastical.

Years later, someone told Sanze that the belt was made in Bakuel, a country that lay on the Great Plains somewhere to the south of Upper Berina. Whatever the origin, it was the finest piece of apparel that Sanze had ever possessed. As he stood there lost for words holding the belt to the light to view the craftsmanship, Gersina chuckled and asked, 'Do you like it?' Sanze nodded, rendered dumb with appreciation. Gersina fitted the belt around Sanze's waist, stood back appraisingly, and said, 'Wear it as a sign of our friendship.'

Sanze murmured, 'I will always wear it.' And he did, for most of the rest of his life.

CHAPTER FOUR: GOOD THINGS COME TO THOSE WHO WAIT

When the call went out for recruits for the new national army, the elders of Osicedi appointed Gersina and Sanze to join the squad that marched southward to sign on. Perhaps, thought Sanze, the elders reasoned that their escapade with the Dornite rustlers was proof of their warlike dispositions; or perhaps they thought that it would be prudent to get rid of hot-heads like Gersina and Sanze before they caused more trouble.

Whatever the case, they didn't complain. Life in the army promised to be a lot more exciting than raising sheep, herding sheep, shearing sheep, and taking bales of wool to market.

As they marched toward Thania, which was King Vaxili's temporary capital, Gersina remarked approvingly, 'I see that you're still wearing the belt.'

Sanze replied, 'Of course! I told you that I would always wear it.'

Gersina chuckled and replied, 'I must have foreseen the future. Already, you look like a soldier.'

During the three-month period of basic training, a commander named Zaliek trained Sanze's and Gersina's squad. With his half-severed right ear, scarred forearms, and face with the contours and colour of weathered granite, Zaliek looked like a brigand or a desperado. No one knew anything about him, and he gave nothing away; the result, of course, was that there was plenty of speculation. One rumor had it that Zaliek was a Dornite renegade, while another had it that he came from roylty from one of the kingdoms to the west of the Great River.

Another rumour had it that Zaliek fled from the Dornites when it was discovered that he was having an affair with the wife of a senior official. This rumour had a variation: namely, that he refused to have an affair with the woman, who took revenge by spreading incriminating stories about him. Either way, it was rumoured that he was a fugitive from the Dornites.

Zaliek ignored the rumours that buzzed about him and kept his past to himself. At their first training session, he scowled at the recruits and growled, 'I'm Commander Zaliek. That's all you need to know. I don't ask who you are, and I don't want to know. You could be murderers, faggots, or mommy's boys, or all three together—it's all one to me. You're here for only two reasons. The first is to learn to protect yourselves so that you don't get killed. The second is to learn how to kill an enemy. Never mind tactics and strategy! You will learn those things later, if you survive basic training.'

The training was tough. The recruits tumbled out of their tents at daybreak, ate a quick breakfast of salted mutton and corn bread, and spent two hours doing squad drill. Then they practised unarmed combat and weapons drill. Later, after the mid-day meal, they practised armed combat. By late afternoon they were exhausted. After the evening meal, which consisted of mutton and bread, embellished with gravy and a few vegetables, they had to clean their weapons and equipment. When that was done, they collapsed into bed. Then they stumbled out at dawn to repeat the same grinding routine.

Zaliek was fanatical about fitness. He made them run and, when they were ready to drop, he made them run some more. He made them carry boulders up stony hillsides and he made them carry each other across marshy ground. He taught them how to run with shields and spears strapped to their backs, clutching their swords to their chests. Then, when they thought they had done something to perfection, Zaliek made them do it again.

Despite his size, Zaliek was fit and agile. He did whatever the squad members did, and he did it better. He would growl at them, 'You think you're getting good, hey? Well, you're still so soft that the Dornites will have you for breakfast. When you can beat me, you might have a chance against the Dornites—but until then, forget it!'

During basic training, they cursed Zaliek with every panting breath. However, when Sanze and Gersina ran from the Dornites at Gandonda, during the general panic, they remembered to carry their shields and weapons, and were thankful for Zaliek's training. He who runs away...

After three weeks, Zaliek took the squad on a long run. They carried only their swords, strapped across their backs. At the turning point of the run, they paused at the highest point of the range of hills that now marked the easternmost limits of Berina. From their vantage point, the squad could see the smoke rising from the settlements in the territory that the Dornikes had captured recently.

Panting, they sat down on the slope and reached for their water bottles. Zaliek shouted, 'Three mouthfuls each! That's all!'

'But, commander— '

'I said three mouthfuls, and that's all! Do you think you'll get more when you're in combat' While they regained their breath, Zaliek planted himself squarely before them and roared, 'Ha! Do you think you're ready to go into battle?'

A few members of the squad muttered, 'We're ready.'

'What did you say?'

'We're ready, commander!'

'Ready? You think you're ready? You think you're ready to take on that lot down there?' Zaliek gestured towards the smoke rising from the foothills below. 'You think you'll stand steady when the Dornite cavalry comes at you? You think you won't turn tail when the Dornite infantry comes at you in closed ranks? You think that, eh?'

Now the reply was less certain: 'Yes, commander. Probably. We think so, commander.'

Arms folded, Zaliek surveyed them sadly. He shook his head and growled, 'You lot are pathetic. Do you hear me: pathetic! Oh, you're brave enough—I don't doubt that. You're brave enough to die in your ignorance. You're brave enough to die with a Dornite sword or lance through you. You're brave enough to die for your country. I don't doubt that. But do you think that bravery is enough, eh? Do you think it's enough?' There was more muttering. Zaliek roared, 'Well, what do you say? Is it enough, eh? Speak up!'

'No, commander!'

'I said speak up!'

The recruits roared back at him, 'No, commander!'

'No! What isn't enough?'

They roared, 'Bravery is not enough, commander!'

'Good! Very good! At least you've learned something. Now, tell me the first thing that I taught you.'

'To defend ourselves, commander.'

'Right! And what is the second thing?'

They roared, 'To kill our enemies, commander.'

Zaliek regarded them half sceptically and half approvingly before he roared, 'Huh! When you do those two things better than your enemy, and when you add bravery, then maybe you've got what you need to defeat the Dornites.' Zaliek dropped his sword and cried, 'Let's see what you've learned.' He flexed his arms and growled, 'Who will take me on, eh? Man to man, unarmed combat—who will take me on, eh?'

The recruits shifted uneasily and exchanged furtive glances while Zaliek paced in front of them, grinning and flexing his arms. Gersina got to his feet and called out, 'I'll take you on, commander!'

'Ha! Gersina, eh? You fancy yourself? Come on, then, let's see what you can do.' Zaliek bent forward in a wrestler's stance, arms wide, balancing on the balls of his feet, taunting Gersina, inviting him to approach.

As Gersina stood up, something twirled, Gersina's hand flicked, and there was a swishing noise. Zaliek shouted in pain and straightened, clutching his shoulder. Gersina dashed at Zaliek, kicked his feet out from under him, and pinned him to the ground, face down. Zaliek turned his face to one side and growled, 'All right, you win. Let me go.'

Gersina released Zaliek, who stood and dusted himself off. Still rubbing his shoulder, Zaliek said, 'You used a sling, eh? You call that unarmed combat?'

There was deathly silent while the recruits waited for Zaliek to descend on Gersina in a storm of wrath. Gersina replied steadily, 'No, commander. But I defeated you. That would be all that mattered, if I was facing an enemy.'

Zaliek squinted at Gersina narrowly. Then, without warning, he lunged forward, grasping. Gersina avoided him, springing to one side. The yellow flecks in his eyes gleamed and his left eyelid twitched. Sanze knew the signs. Gersina was coiled for action, and he was enjoying the challenge.

Zaliek straightened, gave his shoulder a rub, and said, 'A sling, eh? Ha! But you're right—what does it matter, if you defeat your opponent? We're soldiers, not professional wrestlers.' He roared at the squad, 'Did he defeat me?'

'Yes, commander!'

'Yes, that's right, he did. He used unfair, underhand tactics, didn't he?'

'Yes commander!' The reply was hesitant.

Zaliek scowled and rubbed his shoulder again. He bellowed, 'Maybe you learned a lesson today! Don't attack your enemy in the way he expects. Attack him in a way he doesn't expect. You got that?'

'Yes, commander!'

'Good! Remember it, and it might save your life.' Zaliek turned to Gersina and asked, 'Where did you learn to use a sling?'

'In Osicedi, commander.'

'Osicedi, eh? Ever killed a man with it?' Gersina glanced at Sanze warily while Zaliek growled, 'I asked you—did you ever kill a man with it?'

'Yes, commander. I did.'

Zaliek eyed Gersina narrowly and asked, 'Ever killed three men with it?'

Gersina shot a glance at Sanze again and then replied, 'Not exactly, commander.'

'Not exactly, eh? Well, let me guess: you knocked some of them down with your sling and your mate finished them off with a spear. Is that what happened?'

Gersina licked his lips, gave Sanze a sidelong glance, and then muttered, 'Yes, commander.'

'And was your mate called Sanze?'

Gersina replied reluctantly, 'Yes, commander.'

'That same person as is sitting over there?' Zaliek jabbed a finger at Sanze.

'Yes, commander.'

Zaliek folded his arms, scowled, and said, 'Do you remember the first man you killed?'

Gersina answered reluctantly, 'Yes, commander.'

'He had red hair and a thin face with pockmarks, not so?'

Gersina paused apprehensively before he answered, 'Yes, commander, that is so.'

'That is correct! Now I'll tell you something that you don't know—his name was Selek.'

'I knew that, commander.'

'Ah, yes, he wore a disc engraved with his name, didn't he?'

'Yes, commander.'

'A disc given to him by someone called Janali, not so?'

'I can't remember, commander.'

'No? Well, perhaps you can tell me—where is the disc now?'

Gersina bit his lip and glanced at Sanze furtively before he said, 'Sanze has the disc.'

'Ah! Sanze, eh? Now, let me tell you that Janali was Selek's wife. What do you say to that, eh?'

Gersina straightened his shoulders and clenched his fists by his sides. He said firmly, 'I'm sorry about that, commander. But he was a Dornite. He was an enemy. He should have left our sheep alone.'

Zaliek snapped his fingers under Gersina's nose and growled, 'And I'll tell you something else that you don't know: Selek was one of my best mates. What do you say to that, eh?' With his gaze lowered and his head to one side, Gersina stood there awkwardly, saying nothing. Zaliek pushed his face close to Gersina's and said, 'And then a few nights later a Dornite raiding party attacked Osicedi. Not so?'

Gersina replied in a subdued voice, 'Yes, commander.'

'They killed a few people, didn't they?'

'Yes.'

'Who?'

'They killed my brother, and—'

'Your brother, eh? Well, what would you say if I told you that I was one of the men in the raiding party?' Gersina raised his eyes and looked at Zaliek half in bewilderment and half in hostility. Zaliek hissed, 'What would you do if I told you that I was the one who killed your brother?'

Gersina stiffened and looked Zaliek in the eye. He licked his lips, straightened his back, and said quietly, 'I would say, "Thank you for telling me, commander." That is what I would say.'

Zaliek stepped backwards and picked up his sword. He asked, 'Do you want to settle it now?'

'Settle what, commander?'

'Do you want to take revenge for your brother's death, here and now?'

'No, commander.'

'You don't?'

'No, commander, I don't,'

Sanze grabbed his sword and scrambled to his feet, shouting, 'I'll do it!'

Zaliek raised his eyebrows and asked, 'You'll do what, Sanze?'

'I'll fight you man to man, commander.'

'Who asked you to, Sanze?'

'No one did. But—'

'Then, damn it, sit down!'

Clutching his sword, Sanze shouted, 'I'm not afraid of you, commander.'

'Sit down and shut up, damn you, or I'll put you in the cells when we get back to camp.'

'You killed Gersina's brother. If he won't settle with you, then—'

'Damn you, Sanze, sit down and shut up, or I'll have you arrested here and now.' Zaliek took a step towards Sanze and growled, 'You hear me? Sit down and shut up!'

Sanze sat down, trembling and sweating, still clutching his sword. Zaliek grunted and turned his attention back to Gersina. Balancing his sword in his hands, Zaliek asked evenly, 'You don't want to take revenge, eh? Why not?'

'I'm training to fight against the enemy, commander. I'm not training to fight you or anyone else on my own side.'

Zaliek grinned in satisfaction before he turned to the squad and said, 'Excellent! That's an excellent answer. Remember it in future. Forget about revenge. Forget about resentment. They get in the way of clear thinking.' He wagged his finger and bellowed, 'Focus on the task! The enemy will give you more than enough to think about without having your mind full of diversions. Remember—focus and clear thinking! You got that?'

'Yes, commander!'

Zaliek pointed at Sanze and roared, 'You! Have you got it?'

Sanze replied reluctantly, 'Yes, commander.'

'Good! Like I said, courage isn't enough. It's enough to get yourself killed but it's not enough to defeat the enemy.' Then Zaliek turned to Gersina and said, 'In any case, it wasn't me.'

'Commander?'

'I wasn't anywhere near Osicedi when they attacked it. I've never been anywhere near Osicedi in my whole life. Sure, I knew Selek. He was only an acquaintance. He wasn't my mate. And I agree that they should have left your sheep alone. In your place, I would have done the same.'

Gersina replied calmly, 'Thank you for telling me, commander.'

Zaliek jerked his thumb and said, 'All right. Now you know. Get back to the ranks!' He braced himself and bellowed, 'Squad! Form up!' The recruits got to their feet, dusted themselves, and swung their swords across their backs. Zaliek slung his sword and shouted, 'Right, you lot! Let's get back to camp. Keep formation all the way. No stragglers! Understand?'

'Yes, commander!' They set off at a jogging pace and, panting and sweating, reached camp at sunset.

The camp was on the outskirts of Thania, which was strategically situated close to the border between Upper and Lower Berina. It was protected by hills while offering easy access to the open, rolling country to the south, which was the sector that the Dornites favoured for their incursions into Berina.

Before Vaxili and his court arrived, Thania was just a quiet, rural town. Now it was a boom town that was expanding fast to provide for both the regular and irregular needs of the court and the army.

CHAPTER FIVE: DANA

While he was at Thania, Sanze regularly attended devotions at the temple just in case Zabrazal still had his eye on him. He had felt that way ever since he and Gersina underwent the cleansing ceremony in Osicedi. There, Sanze had sensed an active, omnipresent intelligence that scrutinised him sceptically while chalking up pluses and minuses on the divine scoreboard. Sanze didn't want to provide a reason for more minuses to be chalked up.

At the time that he joined the army, Sanze wasn't sure whether the pluses or minuses predominated on his score sheet. Although he hadn't done much wrong, on the other hand, he wasn't sure that he had satisfied the demands of absolute devotion to Zabrazal, either. He had given alms to the poor, performed the annual sacrifice, tried to be truthful, and stayed away from married women—actually, stayed away from women altogether, in deed if not in thought—so he should have accumulated a positive balance of plus points. But Zabrazal was unpredictable.

Whatever his doubts and questions, Sanze's visits to the temple had one indisputably positive result. She was named Dana. At first, Dana meant nothing more to Sanze than any other attractive young woman. That changed one day when he happened to sit behind her in the temple. While the congregation was reciting the creed, she glanced at her companion from time to time, giving Sanze a glimpse of her profile. He became intrigued by the luminous secret that her eyes suggested and, like a shock going through his frame, it struck him that he wanted to meet her. In fact, he wanted to meet her so badly that the need was like a twisted knot in his stomach. But how? By Zabrazal, he felt gormless and helpless! Unlike Gersina, he didn't have a way with women. He would sooner go on a route march with a full pack than approach an attractive woman. In fact, the more he wanted to meet a woman, the more he would shrink into himself as if he thought that invisibility would do the job for him. And, to make him feel worse, even as he shrank with shyness, he cursed himself for being so awkward and tongue-tied.

Dana was small with a compact body that moved with the confident fluidity of an acrobat. Most of all, Sanze was attracted by her liquid eyes that gleamed luminously against her burnished, olive skin. The glow in her eyes suggested that she had a delectable secret that she could share with whoever was talking to her. As Sanze got to know her, he learned that the secret was none other than the pleasure that she took in life itself; it was a pleasure so great that it emanated from her like the warmth of a hearth. She gave it to everyone who came within her orbit, but for a while—oh, Zabrazal, for a short while and so long ago, so long ago—she gave it to him in her own special way. When Sanze thought about it, with the useless poignancy of old age, he wished that he could reverse time and go back to when he first sat behind her in the temple.

Soon, Sanze began to slide into the row behind where Dana sat in the temple. Forlornly, he would admire the way her hair curled at the nape of her neck, the seashell shape of her ears, and the ripple of her shoulders under the fabric of her cotton tunic. If she turned to whisper to her companion or to glance around the temple, a pang of pleasure would dart through him as he got a close-up look at her profile. He also experienced pangs of guilt, wondering if Zabrazal was chalking up more minuses against his name whenever his attention wandered away from the devotions. More acutely, he was embarrassed to think that Dana might be aware of how closely he scrutinised her in his helpless admiration.

In short, he wanted to meet her badly—badly, badly, so badly! Pathetically, he even considered trying to do a deal with Zabrazal, offering to accept a clutch of minuses against his name on the divine scoreboard if only Zabrazal would arrange for him to meet Dana.

However, Zabrazal's assistance wasn't necessary. Dana solved the problem by approaching him one day as they were leaving the temple. She asked, 'You're Sanze, aren't you?'

Sanze managed to stammer, 'Yes, I am.'

'Do you know Kentri?' She raised her eyebrows and said coaxingly, 'Kentri?'

Sanze muttered, 'Do I know him?' He tried to sound confident, but he knew that his voice sounded squeakier than a fingernail being drawn across a piece of pottery. He cursed himself silently, tried to get control of his vocal cords, swallowed, and said, 'Uh—Kentri—yes, he's in Osicedi—I mean, yes, I knew him at school—also afterward.'

Dana said, 'Kentri is my cousin.'

Sanze muttered, 'That's good.' Dana frowned as if trying to work out what he meant so Sanze followed up by blurting out: 'That's good, because he's been lucky enough to know you for a long time.'

Dina's eyes glowed and she smiled mischievously. She murmured sweetly, 'Well, you know how to speak sweetly to girls, don't you?'

Sanze blurted, 'No.'

'No? I thought that you were doing rather well.'

'No. I mean—you know, it just came out. —'

'It was a charming thing to say.'

No one, especially a good-looking young woman, had ever referred to Sanze as 'charming'. Strong, loyal, impetuous—even pig-headed—those were descriptions that he sometimes heard. But 'charming'? Sanze flushed as he tried to hide his sweating palms behind his back.

Dana looked at him with a quizzical smile and asked, 'Do you have a sore back?'

'No. Not at all—you know—my back is all right—no problem.'

'It's just the way you're standing. I thought perhaps...'

Sanze tried to straighten and stand more naturally, wondering at the same time what was a natural stance when you were trying to make an impression on an attractive woman. Hands by your sides? Arms folded? He said, 'It's just a bit of stiffness—you know, from training—crawling across the ground, you know. It's no problem.'

They were outside the temple now, standing in the shade of a tree. Dana asked, 'Are you walking back to the camp?'

'Uh, yes. Yes, I am.'

'Let's walk together, then.'

While they strolled down the road, Sanze was in a state of happy confusion. His emotions were seesawing. It was as if that moment could decide everything—and 'everything' right then was whether he would be confirmed in happiness or abandoned in desolation. He wanted to speak and act in ways that would advance his cause; but, contrarily, he held back from doing so, for fear that his squeaky-voiced, gormless confusion would ruin his chances of gaining a foothold in Dana's affections.

Dana said brightly, 'I haven't seen Kentri for about four years.'

'Kentri?'

'Kentri in Osicedi! You know, the person we were talking about earlier.'

'Oh, right—Kentri! Yes, Kentri—he's your cousin, isn't he?'

'Well, that was the case, the last time I mentioned him. I don't suppose that our relationship has changed in the last five minutes.' Dana glanced at him quickly with her head tilted. Then she dropped her eyes and smiled mischievously. Sanze was convinced that she was laughing at him. If he had been on his own, he would have bashed his head against a wall in frustration at his ineptitude. Instead, he tried to recover the situation by changing the subject. Searching for a topic, any likely topic, he asked, 'Do you know Gersina?'

'Gersina? No, I don't think that I do. Why do you ask?'

'He's my friend. He's also from Osicedi.'

Dana giggled and glanced at him mischievously, asking, 'Does he know Kentri?'

'Who?'

'Your friend Gersina?'

'Yes, he's my friend.'

'So you said. But does he know Kentri?'

'Kentri? Oh, yes, Kentri! I guess that he does. We were at school together, all of us.'

'Then I must meet Gersina some time.'

Suddenly Sanze's senses were on alert. He imagined that if Gersina were there, he wouldn't be stumbling around in tongue-tied ineptitude. Instead, Gersina would be fluent and assured, taking the initiative, making a good impression. Once again, Sanze felt like bashing his head against a wall, but this time for a different reason. He muttered, 'Yes, you could meet him some time. But, you know, he's very busy, so maybe—'

'Even busier than you?' Dana smiled at him sweetly.

'Well, he's just about the busiest person that I know. He hardly ever has time to relax.'

Dana chuckled. 'Maybe I can meet him one day, if he stops being busy for a minute or two.' She halted, pointed, and said, 'I live down this way.'

'You live with your family?' Sanze was trying to delay their parting.

'My mother died last year. I live with my father. He's the chief cook to the royal court.'

Sanze muttered, 'Ah!' and hoped that it sounded profound.

Dana moved away from him, stopped, and said, 'I have enjoyed meeting you.'

'Could we—you know—?

'Yes?'

He blurted, 'Meet again?'

'Meet again? You mean, could we meet again?'

'Yes.'

Dana pursed her lips and looked at him shrewdly. Then she chuckled and asked, 'Would you like that?'

Sanze gulped, 'Yes.' Was his voice as high-pitched as it sounded?

'Yes, I suppose that we could.'

'At your home, perhaps?'

She frowned, considered the matter, and replied with a mixture of seriousness and knowing humour, 'No. That isn't possible. My father is very possessive. The last man who tried to visit him at the house nearly came to a bad end.'

'Really? How?'

'My father threatened to boil him alive in cooking oil.'

'Really? Boil him alive? He would do that?'

Dana gave him a wondering look and then giggled. 'Who knows? He might.' She giggled again, wrinkled her nose and asked, 'Will you be at the temple tomorrow?'

'I could be, if you'll be there.'

'Well, if you are there—'

'I will be there. For sure, I'll be there.'

'Good. Then we'll probably see each other.' Dana nodded and walked away. After a few steps, she turned and said with a straight face, 'I hope that your back is feeling better tomorrow.'

As she disappeared around the corner, Sanze was torn by emotions. Mostly, he wanted to shout to the world, 'Can you believe it! I'm going to see her tomorrow. How's that for luck?' On the other hand, he wanted to kick himself for being such a graceless fool.

Sanze's luck held. He met Dana at the temple next day and on the day after that, until there was no need to find a pretext for meeting.

One afternoon they strolled away from the town. Following the road southwards through the foothills, they wandered through open countryside. It was a quiet spring day, warm in the direct sunlight, with the air so still that the sounds from the town drifted to them as if the houses were no more than a few paces behind them. Sanze reached for Dana's hand, taking her nearest finger awkwardly. Although she gave him a swift, startled look, she didn't withdraw her hand.

They walked for a while, not saying anything, absorbed in this new intimacy. Then they sat down half way up a hillside, ensconced in the green folds of the slope, overlooking the red-dirt road that slashed its way across the bottom of the valley. Dana sighed happily and lay back with her hands under her head while Sanze looked at the form of her body that was outlined under the fabric of her tunic. She stretched her arms above her head and the cloth pulled tighter across her breasts. Sanze looked away, not wanting to stare at what he desired.

Dana laughed lightly and asked, 'Do you like me, Sanze?' She gave him her quick, half-knowing, half-humorous glance, and then dropped her gaze.

He mumbled, 'Yes, of course.'

'Then why won't you look at me?'

Sanze mumbled, 'I thought you wouldn't like it.'

'Oh, Sanze! Is that true? Really?'

He mumbled, 'Yes.'

Dana started to laugh. She sat up, hugging her legs with her chin resting on her knees. 'Oh, Sanze—!'

'Hey, what's the joke?'

Between giggles, Dana said, 'You are amusing.'

'No, I'm not.'

'Oh, Sanze, don't get so upset. You make me happy.'

'I'll tell you what, Dana. If anyone else called me amusing—'

'Yes?'

'They wouldn't do it again, that's for sure.'

'And...?'

Sanze took a deep breath and said, 'You can call me amusing any time you want to—but only you.'

Dana took his hand and laid it against her cheek. She said softly, 'Thank you, Sanze.'

Dana lay back again with her arms behind her head, stretched, and gave a relaxed sigh. Sanze propped himself on an elbow and looked at her. When she raised her eyebrows and lazily returned his glance, he leaned forward and kissed her tentatively. It was the first time that he had kissed a woman and he didn't know what to expect. Her lips were moist and receptive and opened slightly to receive him. He pressed his lips closer and a flush like lightning darted across his body. It was so startling, so immediate, that he withdrew guiltily, embarrassed to think that Dana must have felt it too. But she just lay there in the same relaxed position, smiled slowly, and murmured, 'That was nice.'

When Sanze leaned over to repeat the experience, she put up a restraining hand, saying, 'Enough for now, Sanze.'

'I want— '

Dana raised her hand again, closed her eyes, and murmured, 'Take it slowly, Sanze. We have plenty of time.'

As it turned out, they didn't. But they couldn't know that, creatures of the moment as they were, idling in the lazy sunshine on a grassy hillside.

Sanze lay next to Dana, his hands behind his head as well. He exhaled, breathed in deeply, and exhaled again. The thumping in his blood began to subside. He exhaled again.

Dana said gently, 'Good things come to those who wait.' Sanze glanced at her. Her dark eyes were enigmatic. He thought that he caught a flicker of teasing amusement, but it was only a flash and he couldn't be sure. Dana held his gaze for a moment and then closed her eyes, inclining her head to receive the full warmth of the sun.

They lay there, enveloped in warmth and silence. As Sanze drifted between waking and dozing, he thought how paradoxical it was that Dana could fire his senses and at the same time lull him into a state of relaxation.

After a few minutes, Dana said something. Sanze asked, 'Hmm? What?'

Dana said, 'I asked whether you ever felt that you could drift like the clouds.' She stretched and put her hand across his, palm lying against palm.

'Drift? Like the clouds?'

'Yes, like the clouds.'

'No, I haven't ever felt that.'

'I have. I imagine that my body expands and diffuses— '

'Diffuse?'

'It gets thinner, less solid—oh, you know, it gets almost like a cloud, so that it floats and drifts.'

'Where does it float and drift to?'

'Oh, Sanze! Don't be so practical!'

Sanze hesitated. Once again, Dana had caught him off guard, making him stumble over both his thoughts and his tongue. He responded cautiously, 'I'd like to be a cloud with you.'

'Oh, Sanze! Really!'

'I'm serious.'

'Are you?'

'Yes.'

'And if you were like a cloud—?'

Lying back with his eyes closed, he said, 'Imagine if we could leave the highlands. Imagine if we could leave Berina.'

'Yes?'

'Imagine if we could float and drift, just drift and drift, instead of having our weight always pulling us down. Imagine that!'

Dana squeezed his hand. 'Yes?'

'Well, I guess that's about it.'

'No, Sanze, that's only the beginning. If you were like a cloud—where would you drift to?'

Sanze said slowly, 'I'd drift eastwards over the lowlands, I'd drift right over Dornite territory, and I'd drift right over the coastline.'

'And then—?'

'Then I'd drift over the Endless Ocean. I'd drift over the islands.'

'Yes? The islands? Go on.'

'I'd see the ocean and the islands all spread out beneath me.'

Dana murmured, 'That would be beautiful.'

'Yes, it would be.'

'Tell me more!'

'The islands would be like pearls in the neck-piece of a gown.'

Dana replied dreamily, 'Like pearls? Yes, perhaps they would be—green and brown and silver and ochre pearls? Who knows?'

'And the gown of the ocean—dark green—deep, opal green!'

Dana ran her fingers across the palm of his hand. 'And could I be drifting with you, seeing the same things?'

'Of course! Look at the sky. It's huge. It stretches from here to the limit of the world wherever that is. We can't see the beginning and we can't see the end. There must be room for a hundred thousand clouds all drifting at one and the same time. For sure, there's room for both of us, and plenty more.'

Dana said nothing for a while before she remarked reflectively, 'You aren't always practical, are you?'

'Not when I'm with you.'

Dana sighed and said softly, 'Berina is not a place for people who dream of being clouds.'

'No? How do you mean?'

Dana didn't reply for a while. She sat up, arms clasped around her legs, looking out over the valley. Then she said fiercely, 'Oh, out here a person can dream of clouds and drifting over islands—or we can dream of whatever you want to be. But back there—huh!'

'Back there? You mean—?'

'Yes, in Thania. What do they care about dreams and possibilities?'

'They dream about making Berina safe and secure. Isn't that worth something?'

'Huh! Sanze, you might dream about that! But there aren't many like you, not in Thania. Oh, don't be so—so naive, so—so idealistic—there aren't a lot of people like you anywhere—especially back there.'

'But for the good of Berina— '

'Berina! What is Berina? I ask you, what is it?'

'It is our home, Dana, it is our home—that is what it is!'

'Yes, Sanze. It is our home. But for some people, it's just one big forage trough—a trough ten times bigger—no, twenty or thirty times bigger than anything they've ever got near before.'

'Forage bin? What are you talking about?'

'Oh, Sanze, you don't live in the palace like I do! You don't see them snarling at each other like hungry dogs getting their noses to a food bowl. You don't see them shoving each other out of the way, bowing and smiling even while they're planning who next to stick their knives into. You don't see them crawling on their bellies to Vaxili in the hope of getting a bigger seat for their fat bottoms. You don't see any of that.'

'Who are you referring to?'

'Who? Vaxili's friends and hangers-on, of course! That bunch of smarmy flatterers! Who else?' Dana snorted contemptuously and tossed her head. 'Oh, it's easy to talk about Berina being a home for all of us, like they do in public—but it's just hollow words. I'm telling you, it's just hollow words! When you've seen what I've seen, you'll realise that this is a home where just a few people are going to live in mansions while most people are going to live in shacks on the outskirts of town, the same as always.'

Sanze didn't know how to reply. He was overcome by the vehemence in her voice and by the picture that she painted. Dana looked at him knowingly, smiled, and trailed a hand lightly across his forehead. Then she lay back and said pensively, 'The clouds ask the questions. But they don't give the answers.'

'Maybe there aren't any answers!'

Dana put a hand on his shoulder and gently pulled him downwards. She murmured, 'There are questions and there are answers. It's up to us to hear the questions and to find the answers. Sometimes we just have to watch the clouds and be patient.' She took his hand, murmuring, 'Lie down again, Sanze. Let's watch the clouds some more.'

After a few minutes, Dana said slowly, 'Every day there are more questions. Sometimes I think I'm moving towards some of the answers and sometimes I think it's hopeless.' She shrugged.

'What sorts of questions?'

'Oh, I don't know. They come and go. But mostly I think: is this really all that there is to life? Violence and preparing for war, plotting the destruction of the Dornites, squeezing the life out of anything that doesn't fit with their four-walled, small-minded pattern of the now-and-future Kingdom of Berina, jostling to get near the forage bin—is that all there is?' Dana squeezed his hand and asked gently, 'Don't you sometimes feel the same, Sanze?'

Did he, Sanze, loyal soldier of Berina, feel the same? He knew what he should say. In fact, he almost said it. But then, from an impulse deep inside him, he spoke otherwise. He said, 'Yes. Sometimes I do.'

Dana squeezed his hand and said, 'I talk a lot, don't I?'

Sanze squeezed her hand in return and said nothing.

They lay there holding hands, sometimes dozing, sometimes watching the clouds as they asked the questions and took the answers with them to the far horizons. Then Dana propped herself up on her elbows and looked out across the valley. From his reclining position, Sanze gazed up at her. The shape of her breasts against the pull of her tunic, her neck arched backwards, her hair flowing freely—the lightning flickered again under his skin, his blood thumped, and his throat contracted. He took a deep, deep breath.

Dana looked at him sidelong. Her eyes were serious, but she was smiling mischievously. She got to her feet, smoothed down her tunic, and said, 'I guess it's time to go.'

'No. Stay here.'

'Oh?'

'Yes. I want to look at you some more.' Sanze was surprised at his own boldness.

'Oh? Some more?'

'Yes. I want to touch you.'

Dana tossed back her hair and put her hands on her hips. She said teasingly, 'I told you, Sanze, good things come to those who wait.'

Sanze cried in real frustration, 'I don't want to wait.'

'You'll have to.' She stretched out her hand, saying, 'Come on, be a good boy. It's time to go.'

As they walked along the road towards the town, Dana asked, 'Are you and Gersina friends?'

'Yes, of course. He's been my friend ever since we were at school together.'

'Is he a good friend?'

'He's my best friend. Why do you want to know?'

'Oh, I was just asking.' Sanze looked at Dana suspiciously but she ducked her head. She let go of his hand and they walked in silence until they turned a corner in the road and saw the town lying before them. Then Dana stopped, faced him, and said, 'The fact is, I know someone who wants to meet Gersina.'

Sanze flared with suspicion and jealousy. He wanted to ask, 'Are you the one who wants to meet Gersina? Did you get to know me just so that you could meet Gersina?' The thought was so crude and visceral that it shocked him. But he couldn't drive it from his mind. Dana must have seen what he was thinking because she dropped her head and stood there awkwardly. Sanze fought down the insidious thoughts and asked, 'Who wants to meet Gersina?'

'I can't tell you.'

'Man or woman?'

'A woman.'

'You want me to arrange a meeting with this secret, mysterious lady—just like that, sight unseen?'

Dana shifted uncomfortably and said, 'Yes.' Then she looked straight at him and said, 'It's not for me, Sanze. It's for a friend. It really is.'

'Oh, yes? Is that so? So secret—and so sudden?'

'It's the truth, Sanze. And it only came up later, after I met you.'

'Oh, yes? Really?'

'Yes. It's the truth. I'm telling you the truth, believe me.'

When they came to the place where their ways parted, Dana stretched up to kiss him, but he turned his head away. She said angrily, 'Sanze! Don't be like that!'

Sanze shook his head and walked away. The freshness of the day had faded. The world, like his soul, was dull and grey.

CHAPTER SIX: AMBITION?

In the days that followed, tossed among desire, resentment, and jealousy, Sanze kept away from Dana. He couldn't get rid of the suspicion that she valued him only as a means of arranging a meeting with Gersina. Also, he was jealous of Gersina. He imagined how Gersina would sweep into Dana's affections if she met him. He'd be all over her while she... damn it, he hated himself for thinking these things as much as he hated the thought that they might be true.

Four days later he went to the temple, having decided that, Dana or not, he should keep in Zabrazal's good books. Although he sat at the back of the congregation and tried to make a quick escape, Dana anticipated his move. She left early by a side door and was waiting for him when he emerged from the main entrance. She rushed up to him, asking, 'Sanze! How are you?'

'Oh, I'm all right, I guess.'

Dana was wearing a bronze head band that matched her earrings, belt, and shoes. Her floor-length robe was of a silky material that made Sanze want to caress the shape that was enhanced by its soft folds. When Dana looked at him with her ever-luminous eyes, he felt his resolve weakening. It weakened even more when she stretched up and kissed him on his lips. In fact, it weakened so much that he almost capitulated. However, he just managed to get a hold of himself before the point of no return. He pushed Dana away, averted his face, and mumbled thickly, 'I don't think that we should see each other anymore.'

'But why not?'

'I just don't think it's a good idea. I mean, I have to focus on my training and—well, as I said, I don't think it's a good idea.'

Dana put her hands on her hips, faced him squarely, and said, 'You're jealous, aren't you?'

'Jealous! Me?'

'Yes, you!'

Sanze mumbled, 'No, I'm not.'

Dana clicked her tongue and said softly, 'Sanze, can you truthfully say that you don't like me?' She looked at him closely, sniffed in disbelief, and clicked her tongue again. 'You see, you can't say it!'

'I can.'

'Well, then, say it! Come on, Sanze, let me hear you say it.' He couldn't say it. Dana said more gently, 'That's what I mean. That's why I say that you're jealous.'

Sanze muttered, 'Look, Dana, if I say that we shouldn't see each other again—I mean, isn't that enough—?'

'No, it's not enough!' She laid a hand on his cheek and said softly, 'Sanze, don't be jealous.' She stroked his cheek and murmured, 'There's nothing to be jealous about.' She snuggled her head against his shoulder, wiped her eyes, and said, 'It's about Gersina, isn't it?' He nodded. She said, 'I told you the truth. A friend wants to meet Gersina. That's the truth, really it is. But if it makes you jealous then let's forget about it.'

'Well, maybe I could arrange it.'

'No, let's just forget about it. It's not worth getting upset about.'

By now, Sanze's resolve had weakened so much that the crumbled remnants had been swept out of sight on a flood of returning emotions. He kissed Dana. Her lips were moist and soft and as they moved against his, the lightning began to flicker again along the unguarded ridges of his body. He pushed her away gently and took a deep breath. Holding her at arm's length, he asked, 'Who wants to meet Gersina?'

Looking at him appraisingly, Dana asked, 'Do you promise that you won't tell?' He nodded. 'Do you promise by the wrath of Zabrazal?'

'I will have to tell Gersina.'

'All right, Gersina but no one else.'

'I promise.'

'By the wrath of Zabrazal? Say it.'

'All right, if you insist.' He pressed both hands to his heart. 'I promise by the wrath of Zabrazal that I won't reveal the name of this person. May Zabrazal damn me forever if I violate this oath.'

Dana put a finger across her lips, stretched upward, and whispered, 'It's Mecolo.'

'What? Mecolo?'

'Yes! Mecolo!'

'Princess Mecolo? Vaxili's daughter?' Dana nodded. Sanze asked incredulously, 'Vaxili's daughter wants to meet Gersina?'

Dana looked around and said quietly, 'Yes! That is correct.'

Sanze whistled and stood back to consider the situation. Vaxili's daughter! He looked at her closely, in a final check that she wasn't playing a practical joke on him. Dana just looked back at him with those great luminous eyes—the eyes that always promised to let you into the secret that they held—the eyes that promised more, the more you looked into them. Yes, she was serious. He asked, 'How does Mecolo know Gersina?'

'She doesn't know him, silly! If she did, why would she want to meet him?'

'All right, then, what does she know about him?'

Dana said, 'She saw Gersina in the temple.'

'Oh, she saw Gersina in the temple and she decided that she wanted to meet him, just like that?'

'Why not? I saw you in the temple, didn't I?'

The logic was irrefutable. Sanze said weakly, 'But the king's daughter...'

'Oh, it's typical of Mecolo—she knows what she wants, and she goes straight for it.'

Sanze took a step backward, giving himself time to think about the matter. But the more he thought about it, the less he liked the idea. He said slowly, 'I don't know. It could be—'

'Now, Sanze, don't get cold feet.' Dana pressed herself against him, rubbing her forehead against his chin. 'Think of what it could mean to you.' She moved her body against his, soft and pliable, her arms clasped around him. A whole summer's worth of lightning flickered and flashed through Sanze, while the thunder rumbled through his ears and his temples. He tried to fight the storm down and mumbled dry-lipped, 'I don't know! I just don't know.'

Still pressing against him, Dana said softly, 'Think what it could mean to you, Sanze.'

He leaned back against the wall and pressed his hands against Dana's shoulders to put space between them. He said, 'I am thinking about it.'

'Well?'

'It could mean big trouble.'

'Trouble? How?'

'Damn it, Dana, she's the king's daughter!'

'Well, what of it?'

'What of it? Man, this isn't like something between you and me, or just any—hey! What's that for?' Dana had been nibbling at one of his little fingers, playing it between her teeth and lips. When he tried to withdraw his hand, she looked him straight in his eyes and nipped the tip of the finger. He tugged his hand away, shook it vigorously, and said, 'Hey! Careful!'

Dana chuckled. 'Have I got your attention now?'

'You didn't ever not have it.' He was still shaking his hand ruefully.

'Good. Now answer me honestly: Are you going to be a soldier all your life?'

'I don't know. Maybe I will be. Why not? Or maybe I'll go back to Osicedi one day and look after the sheep and the wool. Who knows? Time will tell. Anyway, why are you asking?'

Dana stroked his chin, passing the tips of her fingers across it lightly. 'I mean, are you going to stay a plain, simple soldier all the time you're in the army? Just a plain, simple soldier? Don't you have any ambition?'

'Sure, I have ambition.'

'How much ambition?'

'I have plenty of ambition. Why do you ask?'

'Mecolo is the king's daughter—right?'

'Which is why—'

'Oh, Sanze, Sanze, you only see the problem. You don't see the possibility.'

'Which is—?'

'That Mecolo will be grateful for any favour that you do for her.'

'Sure, she might be grateful. But there's also a possibility—a big one—that the king might not be grateful.'

'It's her risk, not ours. All you're doing is arranging the meeting. The rest is up to her.'

'And to Gersina.'

'Yes, and to Gersina. But he can make up his own mind, can't he?'

'I don't know. I still think—'

Dana interrupted Sanze by laying a finger across his lips. Looking him in the eye, she said, 'Look, Sanze, I can't speak for you, but speaking for myself, I'm not going to be a seamstress all my life. No ways!' Dana pressed herself against him again, pulled his head forward, and kissed him. It was a long kiss, moist and luxurious. Sanze found himself responding even while his mind told him that he was being drawn into this matter much too quickly. Then, still with her body against his, Dana asked, 'Do you remember the clouds, Sanze?' He nodded. She continued, 'You remember what you said about how they could float together over the Endless Ocean, or any other place they chose?' He nodded again. Dana said, 'Well, Sanze, a plain, simple soldier and a poor seamstress aren't free to follow their dreams—not if the dreams are worth anything. To do that, you need something behind you, something big, something that will set you on the right road.' Still leaning back but holding their bodies close, Dana rubbed the tip of his nose half playfully and half forcefully. She asked, 'Do you understand me?'

He nodded, blinked, and pressed against her. The fire was bright, and he wanted her body to be moulded to his. Bright-eyed, licking her lower lip speculatively, Dana held him away from her and said, 'Think of the possibilities, Sanze. Think of the possibilities for both of us.'

'I am thinking.' He murmured 'Yes! Possibilities!' and tried to pull Dana to him, but she leaned back with her hands against his chest and asked, 'You'll do it?'

'All right. I guess I will.'

'You'll do it tomorrow?'

'Tomorrow? So soon?'

'Mecolo is impatient. She likes to get what she wants. With her, to think is to act.'

'I'll see what I can do.'

'Oh, Sanze, thank you.'

'Hold it! I want you to promise that you won't talk about it.'

Dana chuckled and said, 'What's salt for the lamb is salt for the beef, isn't it?' She stood back, put both hands on her heart, and said, 'I promise by the wrath of Zabrazal.'

'May Zabrazal punish you if you break the oath?'

Dana nodded and completed the oath.

When Sanze told Gersina that the king's daughter wanted to meet him, Gersina just laughed and said, 'I thought you could come up with a better practical joke than that.'

'It's not a practical joke, man!'

'Oh, come on, Sanze—stop fooling around. I've got better things to do.'

'Damn it, man, I'm telling the truth!'

Gersina stopped chuckling and looked at him narrowly. He pursed his lips and asked, 'You're not kidding?'

'No. I'm not kidding. I'm serious. I am completely serious.'

Gersina looked at Sanze speculatively and asked, 'How come you're the go-between?'

Sanze explained and Gersina snorted sceptically, saying 'A princess and a baker's daughter? Friends?'

'Why not? Who do you think Vaxili's daughter has for friends? Do you think they're going to import some true-blue aristocrat-friends from the Dornites, or from the Usserdites, or what?'

'All right, all right, I accept that Dana and Mecolo are friends. But how do you know that Dana isn't playing a practical joke?'

'What if it is a practical joke? Let's say that we arrange a meeting tomorrow and no one turns up? So what? Or what if some other woman turns up instead of Mecolo? Again, so what? What have you got to lose?'

'And what if only Dana turns up?'

'By Zabrazal, Gersina, that's in poor taste!'

'I was just teasing. Hey, man, don't—'

'I don't like that sort of teasing! You hear me? I do not like it!'

'I'm sorry. I apologise. Let's forget about it. All right?'

Sanze grunted, 'Apology accepted. Forget about it.' However, Gersina's imputation rankled with him for a long time after that.

Despite Dana's schemes, Gersina and Mecolo had to wait a while longer to meet. In the camp that night, the bugles sounded just before midnight. Their shrill notes hauled the troops out of the depths of sleep and dumped them in the rough discomforts of the world. Cursing and complaining, they tumbled out of bed, trying to light lamps, falling over each other, tripping over their boots, and scratching around for weapons and equipment. Commanders bellowed instructions, raging at the muddled confusion and trying to get their units together in the dim light of flickering torches.

It took nearly an hour for the whole army to assemble on the parade ground. Even then, there was still a lot of shuffling, bumping, coughing, swearing, and hitching of belts and straps and adjusting of equipment.

Finally, when the mass of men had settled down into a semblance of order, Vaxili addressed them briefly. He told them that a Dornite army had advanced from the south-east; it was looting, taking captives, and occupying a large tract of territory. Tersely, he reminded them of what they had learned during their training. This, said Vaxili, was their first big test and for the sake of Berina and themselves they dared not fail it.

So this was it! This was the big one! This was the new, untried, half-trained national army against the Dornites; this was the first head-to-head between the army of the Kingdom of Berina and the ancient enemy. The men were excited, and some were even elated, despite the discomfort of broken sleep, the weight of their packs, and the usual chaffing of soldiers under discipline.

Yawning and muttering, the army trudged out of camp and took the road that led south from Thania—the same road that Dana and Sanze had wandered along a few days earlier. There were shouts and curses in the dark as the commanders tried to keep order, and there were more curses as men stumbled over obstacles or collided with each other. To add to the confusion, messengers on horseback forced their way through the ranks. Most of the men had never been near horses before and were terrified of them. At the sight of these dark forms, huge and alien against the dim night sky, men scattered to left and right. Zaliek cursed at them and shouted, 'How the hell do you think you're going to stand up to the Dornite cavalry when you run like children from our own horses?' It was a pertinent question.

By mid-afternoon, they were marching through countryside that had been pillaged by the Dornites. Hearing that the army was approaching, the inhabitants began to come down from their refuges in the hills. As they marched through villages where nearly every house had been damaged or destroyed, people lined the roadside, grim-faced, shouting and jeering at them:

'What good is an army that arrives when the Dornites have already left?'

'Why are we paying taxes? Just to feed your fat stomachs, eh?'

'When you've finished fighting the Dornites, come back and rebuild our houses, if any of you survive.'

In front of his house, an old man was sitting on a stool surrounded by pieces of broken furniture. As Sanze and Gersina's unit marched past him, the man heaved himself to his feet and shouted in a wavering voice, 'May Zabrazal damn you to deepest darkness!' He tried to pelt them with stones but he was so feeble that the missiles didn't reach them. When he had exhausted his supply of stones, he shouted, 'You should have your faces smeared with cow dung.' It was an extreme insult. Zaliek heard the muttering in the ranks and shouted, 'Eyes front! Keep the pace—hup, hup!'

A young woman came out of the house next door, made a derogatory gesture with her fingers, and shouted, 'They raped his wife and then cut her throat. A woman of sixty years of age and him nearly seventy! They made him watch. Where were you? Are you here to protect the living or to bury the dead?'

Zaliek didn't even glance at her. He just bellowed at the squad, 'The next man who doesn't keep his eyes to the front will be put on heavy duty! Hup, hup!'

Gersina hissed, 'We've killed three Dornites already, you and me, but I'll be a lot happier when we've killed three hundred of the bastards.'

'Or three thousand?' Sanze said it ironically but Gersina flicked an approving look at him and nodded.

Sanze quoted Zaliek's maxim: 'Forget about revenge. Forget about resentment. They get in the way of clear thinking.'

Gersina said, 'Don't worry, my friend, I'll be thinking clearly when we get to grips with them.'

'That's good. Keep it like that.' The destruction brought home to Sanze that the enemy was close at hand. Dry-lipped, he said, 'Facing those bastards isn't going to be easy.'

'Are you worried?'

'Worried? No, not worried! I'm just scared out of my mind, that's all.'

They marched in silence for a while before Gersina said, 'Me too. But don't worry—we'll be all right when we get to grips with them. Remember the sling and remember the spear.' Then, after a few seconds, he added quietly but with menace, 'When we meet them, we won't forget what they've done to our people.'

Sanze didn't reply. Tight-lipped, he just nodded in agreement.
CHAPTER SEVEN: SOLDIERS OF BERINA

Next day, the Army of Berina faced the Dornites at the Valley of Gandonda. Shivering in the morning chill and blanketed in mist, the army advanced down the valley from the north-west. Dornite bugles sounded somewhere in front of them, muffled in the thick air. From time to time through drifting gaps in the mist, they could see signs of movement. Then, as the mist began to lift, they saw that the Dornites had formed up at the shallow head of the valley. Looking like a gleaming belt that stretched across the floor of the valley, the Dornites stood there in silence, immobile except for the occasional movement of a horse or the light wafting of breeze-blown plumes. It was eerie, like confronting a life-sized, petrified frieze.

At about one thousand paces, Vaxili halted the advance and re-formed the line, strengthening the centre and drawing the flanks forward so that they advanced along the sides of the valley. At that point, Zaliek planted himself in front of the squad and said, 'Good luck! Remember your training. This is where I leave you.' He silenced the protests with a gesture and said firmly, 'My contract calls for me to train you, not to fight against the Dornites.'

Someone called out, 'Are you afraid?'

Zaliek's eyes narrowed as he replied, 'No, I'm not a coward. But I'll tell you one thing—if the Dornites capture you, they won't kill you. In fact, they'll be only too happy to take you alive. But if they capture me, they'll kill me slowly in ways that you don't want to know about. I need to be paid treble if I'm going to face danger like that. Anyway, it's not my fight, is it? You're the soldiers of Berina, not me.' He saluted, hitched his sword over his shoulder, Dornite-style, and moved towards the rear.

Gersina broke ranks and followed Zaliek. He was back within a few minutes, looking bleak. He pulled Sanze towards him and whispered, 'It's like I thought. Zaliek says this is crazy.'

'What's crazy?'

'We're fighting in level country. The Dornites have all the advantages: cavalry, chariots, and room to manoeuvre. We're playing into their hands.'

'Thanks, Gersina, you've just made me feel a lot better.'

'I'm only telling you what Zaliek said.'

'Well, it's too damn late now, isn't it?' Gersina licked his lips, grunted gloomily, and hitched up his breastplate. The line of Dornite infantry had begun moving towards them at a steady trot. Sanze's stomach tightened and he muttered, 'Oh, man, may Zabrazal protect us. We're going to need it.'

Gersina snorted. 'Zabrazal might not be with us.'

'What do you mean?'

'Zaliek said that Izebol performed a sacrifice.' He licked his lips again.

'Yes? And...?'

'The omens weren't favourable.'

'What?! We're going into battle against the omens?'

Gersina shrugged and said grimly, 'That's what Zaliek said.'

Sanze cursed. 'Is Vaxili crazy, sending us into battle against the omens?' Gersina just shrugged again. Sanze asked, 'What does Izebol say about it?'

Gersina's mouth tightened and he muttered, 'Zaliek says that Vaxili told Izebol to keep out of the army's affairs.'

'Oh, that's a great move, just when we need all the help that we can get.' Gersina just grunted again while Sanze cursed. 'Against the omens! I can't believe it.'

Gersina nodded even more gloomily. As he eyed the advancing Dornite line, he muttered, 'We don't need the omens to tell us what's heading our way.' He hitched up his breastplate, scratched under his helmet strap, and licked his lips. Despite his own stomach-wrenching, skin-scratchy apprehension, Sanze was comforted to see that the normally cool-headed Gersina was as skittish as a colt.

Suddenly they heard shouted commands from the enemy force. The Dornite line trembled like silver foil shaken in the wind, and the front ranks increased their pace. A subdued rustling whisper reached their ears, like wind rushing down a distant mountain side. It was the sound of thousands of men advancing at a quick trot through knee-high grass. Then they heard the Dornite's war chant—a steady, rhythmical hymn that rolled with a deep underlying menace. Until then, they could have been involved in war games, doing nothing more serious than feinting and manoeuvring. Now, as the war chant rolled in their ears, it was confirmed to them—seriously, deeply, with utmost conviction—that within a few minutes they would be the targets of heavily armed men who intended to kill them, maim them, or, if they overcame them and they survived, take them into slavery. Quiet fell like a sodden sheet across the army of Berina. It was a deep, reflective silence.

With his eyes fixed on the approaching Dornites, Gersina murmured, 'Vaxili said that the omens only meant that Izebol and the other priests should get off the battle field and leave the army to conduct its own affairs.'

Sanze's mouth was dry, his pulse was throbbing, and his skin was as prickly as if he had rolled in a bed of cactus. He muttered, 'If Izebol has any sense, he'll get out of here as fast as he can.'

The Dornites attacked with their infantry in the centre; then their cavalry harassed the left flank. The men of Berina fought bravely enough, and desperately enough, but inexperience soon showed. When their centre began to fall back, the commanders failed to notice that the line between the centre and the flank was stretching thin. This was the signal for the Dornites to unleash their chariots. The men of Berina knew nothing about facing horse-drawn armour and the chariots crashed right through their line and then wheeled for a new assault. The cavalry followed, the left flank was isolated, and the disarrayed centre had to fall back even farther to ward off the new attack. When the chariots scythed through them from the rear, the centre crumbled, and the battle was as good as over.

The right flank withstood the Dornite infantry until they were exposed by the defeat of their centre. After that, it took only one more rush by the chariots to tear the ranks to shreds. Following the example of the rest of the army, they broke and ran. Within seconds, Sanze and Gersina's unit deteriorated into a scrambling mob of terrified men, screaming, shoving each other aside and abandoning wounded comrades to their fate. Terror, which had been battened down until that moment, burst forth with energising force and infused them with life-preserving energy.

In short, they ran for their lives.

As they fled, Gersina pointed up the slope and panted, 'Get as high as possible.' He was right. The heavily armed Dornites would have difficulty following them into the hills.

The fleeing men scrambled up slopes and crags, panting, cursing, tearing their fingers to shreds and lacerating their knees and shins as they pulled themselves upward.

After about twenty minutes, Sanze and Gersina stopped to catch their breaths. From their vantage point, they viewed the carnage that was going on below. Suddenly, from behind them, someone growled, 'Where's the rest of the squad?' It was Zaliek, looking at them grimly.

Sanze replied, 'There are some more men coming up the hill, commander.'

From behind a boulder, Zaliek peered down the hillside, cursed, and said, 'If that's all that's left of you lot, I'll have to get another job.' Then he grunted approvingly and observed, 'You've still got your weapons, eh? At least I taught you something useful.' He surveyed them sadly and shook his head, growling, 'Damn fool tactics, taking on the Dornites at their own game.'

About three-quarters of the squad survived the battle. Zaliek got them together and led them farther into the hills where he settled them down in a protected position and posted look-outs. When night fell, Zaliek withdrew the scouts, saying, 'The Dornites won't attack in the dark, even if they know where we are—which I doubt.' He unslung his sword, stretched, rubbed the back of his neck, and said, 'We'll stay here until first light and then we'll head for Thania. We should be all right if we stay on high ground.'

Half admiringly and half resentfully, Gersina asked him, 'Is this in your contract, commander?'

Zaliek scowled and replied truculently, 'No, but I won't have a job if the Dornites wipe out my unit, will I?'

The men settled down in discomfort without food, water, or protection against the chill of the night. Sanze and Gersina slumped against a boulder, absorbing its warmth into their weary bodies. However, even in their exhausted states, Gersina wouldn't allow them to rest for long. Sanze was half asleep when Gersina sat up, snapped his fingers, and asked, 'What are the Dornites doing right now?'

'Hmm? What does it matter?' Sanze was dead tired and thoroughly drained. He just wanted to sleep. Instead of talking about the Dornites, he wanted to forget about them and in so doing obliterate the memory of the day's terror and humiliation.

'The Dornites—what are they doing?'

Sanze growled, 'Celebrating, of course. What else would they be doing?'

Gersina said, 'Exactly!'

'Yes, exactly! Like I said, what else?' Sanze closed his eyes and slid down against the boulder.

Gersina said thoughtfully, 'Now is the time to strike at them.'

'What? Attack the Dornites? You must be crazy!'

'Crazy? I don't think so.' He got to his feet and walked off into the darkness while Sanze snorted, slumped down again, and dozed off.

Shortly afterward, Gersina dug Sanze's ribs with his foot and called, 'On your feet, Sanze. It's time to move.'

'Huh? I'm trying to sleep, man. Leave me alone.'

Gersina crouched and shook Sanze's shoulders. 'It's time to move against the Dornites.'

'The battle is over, man. We've been defeated. Let's get some sleep.'

'The battle might be over but there's still a war to be fought. We can harass them enough to stop them from pursuing our men.'

Sanze wriggled upwards against the boulder and muttered, 'Are you serious?'

Zaliek loomed over him, a dark form against the stars, and growled, 'Volunteers only! Are you joining us, or not?'

Sanze yawned, stretched, and said, 'I guess Gersina's already volunteered me, not so?'

Gersina chuckled grimly and replied, 'You're a mind-reader, Sanze.'

Sanze yawned again, stumbled to his feet, dusted himself off, and muttered, 'I just hope that I can still get some sleep tonight.'

Gersina replied stoically, 'I doubt it.'

Everyone volunteered, more or less willingly, and they set off in single file along the high ground. It was a cloudless night with a quarter moon and they were able to make good progress. After about an hour, they reached the ridge above the Dornite camp. Concealed behind boulders, they mapped out their plan of attack. It was simple: they would divide into two groups, each with a mission. The larger group would set fire to the nearest tents and kill the occupants as they emerged, while the smaller group would kill or maim as many horses as possible and stampede the rest. They would restrict their attack to easy targets, after which they would re-assemble and make their escape.

The scouts reported that it looked as if the Dornites hadn't posted sentries. It seemed that they were so complacent that they weren't taking even elementary precautions.

Sanze and Gersina were in the group that attacked the tents. As they crawled towards the camp from the bottom of the ridge, Sanze's heart was pounding and he was heavy with the foreboding that at any moment they would be seen, exposed as they were on open ground between the tents and the safety of the hills. The nearer they got to the camp, the more he was convinced that each tent contained a group of vigilant, murderous Dornites. He visualised them licking their lips and grasping their swords as they watched their enemies crawling towards them. They were just waiting for the appropriate moment to rush out and slake their blood-lust by thrusting their swords and spears through their enemies' fragile bodies.

To his surprise, nothing happened. They reached the lee of the nearest tent, stood up cautiously, and looked around. Although some men were lying asleep around the nearest fire, there appeared to be no guards or sentries. Gersina whispered, 'By Zabrazal, they're careless bastards! They'll pay for it. It's their turn now.' He led the way, bounding cat-like towards the men, his swift form silhouetted against the fire. After witnessing the disaster and slaughter of the morning, Sanze felt nothing but grim exultation as he plunged his sword into the body that lay in front of him, arms flung behind his head, torso exposed in careless sleep. Sanze struck in vengeance for the carnage of the day, he struck for Osicedi, he struck for the years of humiliation, and he struck for all Berina. He killed four men in quick succession and, when he looked around, he was disappointed to see that there were no more victims to hand.

Next, they lit faggots from the fire, divided into smaller groups, set fire to the nearest tents, and killed the occupants as they tumbled out. Flushed with their success, they wanted to repeat the exercise, but the noise and the flames roused the occupants of the neighbouring tents. Gersina called off the attack and they ran back toward the safety of the darkness.

They could see Zaliek's signal flickering near the top of the ridge and Sanze started to follow the others towards it. However, Gersina grabbed him and whispered, 'We can do one more job before we leave.'

'What? Are you crazy? The whole camp is awake. Let's get out of here!'

Gersina pointed to a large tent nearby and hissed, 'I bet that's the commander's tent.'

Sanze pulled loose from Gersina's grip. Exultation had faded into apprehension. His stomach was in a knot, he was sweating all over, and he wanted to get away as quickly as possible. He hissed back, 'All the more reason to avoid it.'

'Not so!' Gersina pulled him onto his knees and, with his mouth next to his ear, said, 'Take a look. It's unguarded. Follow me.' Keeping low and under cover, he flitted around the perimeter of the camp. Cursing, Sanze followed him until he stopped when there was only one small tent between them and the large tent. He dropped onto his stomach next to Gersina and asked, 'What are you planning?'

Gersina hissed, 'Maybe we can get the big one.'

Sanze nodded glumly, thinking that the big one was probably attended by big danger. In his opinion, the best thing for them to do was to get out of there fast—but he knew that the idea would just bounce off Gersina.

Gersina raised himself to his knees and asked, 'Are you ready?' Sanze nodded stoically and poised himself for the sprint to the tent.

When they reached their target, Gersina pierced the canvas with a knife and peered through the gash. He grinned at Sanze, nodded, and pointed. Sanze took a quick look and saw a man in the act of getting out of bed. While he watched, the man swung his feet onto the floor, yawned, leaned forward, and ran his hands through his dishevelled hair.

Gersina nodded and raised a thumb. They split the canvas with their swords and rushed in. The man hardly had time to register their presence before Sanze struck him a blow across the neck and Gersina drove his sword into his ribcage. The man gave a startled grunt, toppled over, and fell to the floor next to the bed. Sanze turned to leave but Gersina grabbed his arm. He said, 'Wait! There's one more thing to do.'

'He's dead! Let's get out of here!'

Gersina gave Sanze an impatient glare, dragged the body to the middle of the floor, and unsheathed a broadsword that was hanging on a tent pole. He hissed, 'Just getting a souvenir of our visit.' He brought the sword down on the neck of the corpse. The blow almost completely severed the head from the body. Gersina hacked once more and the head rolled free. He stuffed the head into a canvas bag, slung it over his shoulder, and jerked his thumb in a let's-go motion.

Sanze said, 'Wait! One last job.' He picked up a torch and flung it against the canvas. Then he followed Gersina into the darkness.

They escaped without being noticed and made their way to the ridge where Zaliek's light still flickered. When they got there, Zaliek cursed them and growled, 'What kept you? You're holding us up.'

Gersina said lightly, 'We had some extra business to attend to.' He pointed to the Dornite camp, where the large tent had just collapsed in a circle of fire, and said, 'That was part of the business, commander.'

Zaliek gave a grudging nod of acceptance. Then he looked at the bag that Gersina was carrying and said disapprovingly, 'I see you had enough time to collect some loot.'

Gersina grinned mischievously, saying smugly, 'It's not loot, commander. It's a souvenir.'

'A souvenir! Same thing! You could have got killed for it. I'll have you up for insubordination.' Zaliek extinguished the torch and growled, 'Get moving. The Dornites will be on our trail soon.'

Gersina said smugly, 'Maybe not, commander.'

Zaliek just snorted sceptically and led the way towards the top of the ridge.

They travelled for the rest of the night, only stopping for short periods. At daybreak, they reached an abandoned village where they were able to get water, fruit, and some stale bread. There they met two scouts who told them that Vaxili was nearby, where he had regrouped what remained of their army and was trying to establish a defensive position.

While they paused for refreshment, Zaliek pointed to the bag that Gersina was carrying and wrinkled his nose in disgust. The floor of the bag was soiled with a blotchy, red-brown stain. Zaliek said, 'That bag is disgusting. What did you steal—a lump of meat?'

Gersina replied smugly, 'Better than that, commander.' He reached into the bag and hauled out the head, swinging it by the hair.

Zaliek's eyes widened. He took a closer look, whistled and said, 'By Melok, that's the head of Drunuk.' He whistled again and looked at Gersina in admiration. 'Drunuk! He was the Dornite's commander. Do you know that?'

Gersina replied in a self-satisfied tone, 'We thought as much, commander.'

Sanze said, 'Perhaps the Dornites won't be following us any time soon, commander.'

Zaliek rubbed his chin thoughtfully and said, 'You haven't just bought us some time. You've bought time for the whole of Berina. Only the Dornite federal council can appoint a new general. That means that right now they'll probably be arguing about who's in charge instead of following up on their victory.' His face split in a wide grin. 'And, if I know the Dornites, they won't stop arguing for a few months.' Still grinning happily, he snorted and said, 'The Dornites spend half their time arguing about who's going to be the commander of their army. The rest of the time, they argue about who's going to replace him.'

At the time, once again Sanze wondered how Zaliek knew so much about the Dornites. It seemed to lend credibility to the theory that he was a Dornite. Was Zaliek telling the truth when he said that the Dornites hated him, was that a cover for something else? Cowardice? No, he didn't think so. A renegade? It could be. Sanze shrugged the thought away. There were more immediate matters to attend to.

Soon, they reached the large village that they marched through on the way to the battlefield. Vaxili had gathered the remnant of the army there and was trying to organise a defensive position. However, the troops were tired and dispirited and not much had been done. As Gersina remarked as they entered the village, an attack by the Dornites during the next few hours would almost certainly force a retreat if in fact it didn't inflict another crushing defeat.

Vaxili rode out to meet them. Zaliek halted, saluted, and made a brief report after which Vaxili nodded despondently and said, 'Get something to eat and drink. You'll find what you need in the village. Then report to the south-eastern sector.' As he wheeled his horse, Zaliek stopped him, saying, 'My lord, we have something here that will interest you.' Zaliek nodded to Gersina, who pulled the head from the bag and held it up. Vaxili wrinkled his nose in disgust and asked disdainfully, 'Are we as savage as the Dornites, that we carry the heads of their enemies around as trophies?'

Zaliek said, 'Your majesty, it is the head of Drunuk.'

'Drunuk! Drunuk, you say? Is that so?' Vaxili's eyes widened and he leaned forward to take a closer look. He gave a long whistle. 'Drunuk, eh? Drunuk dead! That changes things. Oh, yes, that certainly changes things.' He got down from his horse, planted himself in front of them, and said, 'Tell me about it.'

When they had told their story, Vaxili took off his helmet, scratched his head vigorously, and grinned in satisfaction. He said, 'This is a great service to Berina. You have bought us time to reorganise.' Putting his hands on Sanze and Gersina's shoulders, he said, 'Your service to Berina will be recognised.'

Next day, when they marched into Thania, their squad led the column with Sanze and Gersina in the front rank. Gersina held the head of Drunuk aloft on a lance where it bobbed before them as a macabre symbol of success amid defeat.

The people of Thania lined the road as they approached the town. The mood was grey and sombre. Instead of a victory march, this was the return of a force that had lost more than one-third of its men, many of whom were husbands, relatives, and friends of local people. Also, there was an air of foreboding because the defeat increased the likelihood that the Dornites would sweep into southern Berina with renewed confidence, wreaking more destruction and conquering more territory.

As they marched into the town, a young woman ran forward. She was dressed in a robe of pastel colours and wore a golden ringlet on her head. Taller than the average, her elegant figure was enhanced by fastidious grooming and fine fabrics. Running up to Gersina, she draped her scarf around his neck and called out, 'Gersina has killed Drunuk, and Berina rejoices.' Dancing in front them, ululating and holding up her hands, she cried, 'By the stroke of his sword, Gersina has turned defeat into victory.'

Gersina called out, 'Don't forget my comrade Sanze! He was with me all the way.'

The woman called out, 'Sanze is also a hero of Berina.' Turning towards him, she asked, 'Are you the Sanze who is Dana's friend?' He nodded. The woman gestured to the crowd and called, 'Join us, Dana. Join us to honour Sanze as well.'

Dana ran forward, calling out, 'Berina rejoices in Sanze and Gersina.' She kissed Gersina, causing him to break step. Zaliek shouted, 'No women in the ranks! This is a line of march, not a dancing troupe.' Then he said more gently, 'My lady Mecolo, please do not mingle with the troops.'

She laughed and replied, 'Zaliek, you know that I would never come between you and your duty.'

Mecolo! So, this was Vaxili's daughter, Mecolo! Sanze and Gersina glanced at each other. Gersina gave Sanze a knowing grin and then, looking ahead again, called out, 'My lady Mecolo, we dedicate this success to you.'

Zaliek shouted, 'Quiet in the ranks! The next man to speak will face a disciplinary charge.'

As more young women joined Mecolo and Dana, the group danced ahead of them, ululating and calling out, 'Drunuk is dead. The enemy of Berina has perished.' Whirling and swaying, Mecolo began a song:

Gersina of Osicedi, soldier of Berina,

On a lance he bears Drunuk high.

Sanze of Osicedi, comrade of Gersina,

With his sword he laid Drunuk low.

Her companions joined in, singing and ululating, while Mecolo whirled ever more swiftly with her arms stretched above her head and with her gown swirling about her, bell-like. The crowd closed in, shouting encouragement and calling out, 'Gersina! Gersina! Sanze! Sanze! A thousand like Gersina and Sanze, and Berina is safe.'

Vaxili had been riding just behind their detachment, but now he forced his way to the head of the procession and called out tersely, 'Mecolo, your father greets you.'

Mecolo ran to him and put a hand on his leg. Walking by Vaxili's side, she said, 'Mecolo and all of Berina greet the king. We thank Zabrazal that he is safe and well.'

Vaxili frowned, bent down, and said something sharp to Mecolo. She bit her lip, shook her head, and said something in return. Vaxili frowned even more. He gesticulated dismissively at Mecolo's companions and then at their detachment. Mecolo tossed her head, whirled around, and called to her companions resentfully, 'We are mere women! The king says, let the soldiers march without interference from the women.' They ran off, and the crowd opened to give the marching column unobstructed passage into the centre of Thania.

The army assembled in front of the temple and Izebol appeared on the top step, dressed in his high priestly regalia. Vaxili moved towards him but Izebol waved him away with an abrupt gesture that stopped Vaxili short as if he had been struck in the face. Grim-faced, he turned on his heel and stalked down the steps to take up a position in front of the first rank.

Izebol raised his arms, waited for silence, and called out, 'Zabrazal grieves when his people grieve.' Izebol paused, looked over the assembled company, and then fixed his eyes on Vaxili. He cried, 'Zabrazal speaks through his priests and Zabrazal speaks through the omens. Zabrazal will walk with you in all your endeavours if you open your ears to the words of the priests and open your eyes to the message of the omens.' Izebol stood for a while with folded arms and lowered chin, looking out over the army and saying nothing. There was a deep silence. Then Izebol raised his arms, pronounced a short benediction, and turned on his heels.

As Sanze and Gersina walked back to the camp together, Sanze observed, 'Mecolo is too bold.'

'Oh? You think so?'

'She could mean trouble for us.'

'Why?'

'Well, for one thing, Vaxili wasn't pleased that she favoured us over him. He won't forget it.'

Gersina grunted dismissively, clapped Sanze on the back, and said cheerfully, 'Sanze, my old friend, you worry too much. If you're not worrying about Zabrazal you're worrying about Vaxili.'

'Perhaps there's reason to worry.'

Gersina draped an arm around Sanze's shoulders and said confidently, 'Forget about it, man. We are nothing in the eyes of gods and kings. To them, we're just insignificant creatures, not worthy of their attention.'

CHAPTER EIGHT: ZABRAZAL MIGHT BE JEALOUS

The next day, Sanze met with Dana. Judging by the warmth of her embrace, his share in her affection had reached a new high. She wanted to know all about the battle, especially about their attack on the Dornite camp. When he finished telling the story, Dana embraced him again, giving him a long kiss that set the lightning playing across his body. He pulled her closer, but she chuckled and moved away. Eyes shining, she swayed and began to sing the song that Mecolo composed as she danced before the marching column:

Gersina of Osicedi, soldier of Berina,

On a lance he bears Drunuk high.

Sanze of Osicedi...

Sanze put a finger on her lips and said, 'No more, Dana.'

She removed his finger, kissed it, and asked, 'Why not? Don't you like to be praised?'

She looked at him so comically that he had to laugh. Sanze said, 'Oh, for sure, I like praise. Who doesn't? But I don't like to tempt fate.'

'Tempt fate? What on earth do you mean? How are you tempting fate?'

'Zabrazal is a jealous god.'

'Sanze, Sanze, do you really think that Zabrazal will be jealous of your achievements?' Dana took his face in her hands, saw the look in his eyes, and said, 'Oh, you really do, don't you?' She stretched upwards, kissed him, and asked, 'Can I say that I'm proud of you?'

'Yes, you can do that.'

Still stretched up against him, Dana said, 'This is just between the two of us. Is that making too much fuss about it? Will Zabrazal be jealous if I say it just to you?'

'Zabrazal sees and knows everything.'

'Even the thoughts and words of people like us? What an inquisitive being he is. Then I guess he just has to put up with what he sees and hears.' Dana laughed, took Sanze's hand, and asked, 'Shall we walk for a while?'

While they strolled hand in hand, Dana said, 'I don't know about Zabrazal being jealous, but I do know someone who you have to watch out for.'

'Who's that?'

Dana said simply, 'Vaxili.'

'Tell me more.'

'Maybe I'm wrong, but—I don't really know for sure— '

'Come on, Dana, tell me what you know.'

Dana stopped walking, looked him in the eye, and said, 'Vaxili is angry with Mecolo.'

'I'm not surprised! Mecolo made a big mistake. She should have honoured her father first.'

Dana gave a short laugh, saying, 'There wasn't much to celebrate, was there?'

'Nevertheless—.' Sanze shrugged.

Dana pulled a wry face and said softly, 'Yes! Nevertheless, Vaxili is her father, and he is the king. Mecolo should have been more prudent.' She added in a low voice, 'Gersina should be careful—and perhaps so should you.'

Sanze took her hand and kissed it, murmuring, 'Thank you. I'll be careful.'

Dana said, 'Mecolo still wants to meet Gersina.'

'Oh, really? It sounds like she should lie low for a while, rather than take risks.'

Dana wrinkled her nose sceptically, saying, 'Tell that to Mecolo!'

'Damn it, Dana, tell Mecolo to cool it! Tell her to put her head down and to keep it there for a few months.'

Dana gave a short laugh. 'You don't know Mecolo like I know her.'

'Meaning—?'

'She's stubborn. She's just about the most stubborn person that I've ever met.'

By Zabrazal, thought Sanze, he didn't like this business involving Gersina and Mecolo. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more risky and foolhardy it appeared to be. But when he told Dana that, she replied truculently, 'I can't tell Mecolo that. She won't take "no" for an answer.'

After a few minutes more of argument and discussion, Sanze agreed to keep his promise by arranging a meeting between Mecolo and Gersina.

After the humiliation of Gandonda, the army had to be rebuilt and it had to happen quickly. Kainar took control of the task. Speaking at a parade about one week after the battle of Gandonda, he admitted with unusual frankness that the high command was responsible for the defeat. He also admitted that the army had been unprepared for the superiority that the Dornites enjoyed in experience, weapons and equipment. Kainar's speech didn't bring back their dead and captured comrades, and it didn't turn defeat into victory, but at least it boosted morale by assuring the troops that the same mistakes wouldn't be repeated.

The fact that Vaxili didn't attend the parade didn't improve his reputation in the eyes of the men. The general opinion was that Vaxili had sent Kainar to do his work for him because Vaxili lacked the courage to face the army.

Nervously and apprehensively, everyone waited for the Dornites to press home the advantage that they gained after the battle. However, they didn't do so. It seemed that the death of Drunuk really had given Berina a breathing space, just as Zaliek had predicted.

Kainar and his commanders used the time well, buying new armour and equipment, and enrolling and training new recruits. In the face of the fresh-faced ignorance of these newcomers, Gersina and Sanze felt like veterans. They had survived basic training, they had lived through their first battle and, most importantly, they had come away with honour and fame. Despite his inclination to lie low in the face of Zabrazal's censorious scrutiny, Sanze allowed himself a hint of a swagger when he passed a squad of new recruits. By Zabrazal, they looked young and green to someone like him, who had been through the storm and had emerged as a hero.

He even tried his swagger on his brother, Abozi, who was one of the newcomers. However, Abozi just laughed at him, imitated his mannerisms satirically, and said that one kernel of corn cake didn't make a meal. Abozi also said, in his characteristically sardonic manner, 'My dear brother Sanze, you're only as good as your next performance. You'd better start thinking about how you're going to live up to your giant-killing reputation. After all, you don't want to disappoint your admirers.'

Abozi was young—in fact, he was under-age for a recruit—but he had a sober head on his shoulders. It was good to know that he was around and, although Sanze wouldn't have admitted it, it was even good to be brought down to earth by him from time to time.

Soon after Sanze's conversation with Dana, Gersina and Mecolo met. The meeting took place at the stables because Dana and Mecolo often went there. They had become enthusiastic riders during the last few months, ever since Vaxili acquired horses from Kitilat. As women, they caused a stir not only by riding but also by doing so in men's leather breeches that fitted tightly at the waist, flared out over the hips—the modestly moral flare, as Dana called it—and then tightened from the knees down to the ankles.

Dana met Sanze and Gersina behind the stables and took them inside where Mecolo was tending to her horse. After making a show of introducing Sanze to Mecolo, Dana casually introduced Gersina to her. Gersina took Mecolo's hand, bowed over it, and said, 'My lady Mecolo, I have heard a lot about you.'

'All of it good, I hope?'

'All of it excellent, my lady. But no one has ever done justice when describing your beauty. Close-up, it is even more striking than when I saw it at a distance.'

Sanze cringed inwardly. He never could abide flattery. However, Gersina had no compunction in laying it on thick when a woman was involved and when he judged that he would profit by it. To Sanze, it was so blatant that it embarrassed him just to see or hear it. However, instead of being repulsed by Gersina's flattery, most women rose to the bait like fish to a garish lure. Despite her position, Mecolo wasn't any different. Looking at him from under lowered eye-lashes, she said, 'Some people say that beauty is only skin deep.'

At that point, Sanze and Dana made their excuses and departed. Outside, Sanze said, 'I'll never get used to the way that Gersina makes up to women. Never!'

Dana laughed admiringly and replied, 'He's a smooth operator, isn't he? In fact, he's charming.'

'Charming? You think so?'

'Of course! He likes women, he shows it, and he pays attention to them. That's all part of his charm.' Dana looked at him, laughed, and took his hand, saying, 'Oh, Sanze, don't be jealous!'

'Jealous? Me? Ha!'

'Well, by the look on your face, either you're jealous or you've got a stomach ache.'

Sanze grabbed Dana by the waist and lifted her onto the railing of the horse pen. As he released his hold, she began to topple forward. Sanze grabbed her again while she laughed uncertainly and steadied herself, gripping the top rail and tucking her feet under the lower rail. Sanze took hold of her ankles and asked, 'Do you still think I'm jealous?'

'Sanze! Careful! I'll fall!'

He tightened his grip and asked, 'Jealous, am I?'

Dana wriggled, trying to get a firmer seat. She replied, half in amusement and half in alarm, 'No, maybe not jealous.' She reached for his shoulders, but he leaned back, still holding her ankles.

'What, then?'

'Sanze, if you make me fall, I'll—' She grabbed hold of the railing again.

'What, then?'

'I would say that you're concerned.' She said the words with a mixture of amusement and desperation.

'Concerned, am I? Concerned about what?'

'You're concerned about him. You're concerned about your friend's welfare!'

Sanze grasped Dana under her arms and pulled her forward. Holding her against him, he lowered her to the ground as he said, 'Yes, that's right. Remember it.'

Dana pulled his head forward, kissed him, and murmured, 'You know what? You're charming in your own way.'

That evening, when Sanze asked Gersina how he had enjoyed meeting Mecolo, Gersina just shrugged and replied, 'I'll be seeing Mecolo again tomorrow.' His voice was half-smug and half-defiant.

It was the answer that Sanze expected but hoped not to hear. He replied, 'I wouldn't advise it.'

'You wouldn't, eh? Why not?'

'Don't pretend to be so naïve! She's Vaxili's daughter!'

'She's also beautiful and intelligent.'

'And she has a slender neck, deep dark eyes, a graceful walk, dimples on her toes, a little round belly button, and—'

Gersina growled, 'Are you mocking me, Sanze?'

Sanze stood his ground, saying 'No. Any man would find Mecolo attractive.'

'You too, Sanze? You also find her attractive?'

'Yes. Of course! But that's not the point.'

'What is the point?'

'Gersina, are you stupid, or obstinate, or what?'

'None of those!'

'Well, then, you'd better listen to me and listen well, before you get into this thing so deep that the water rises way above your head. Mecolo is Vaxili's daughter and he's not going to be pleased if you start something with her.'

'You mean that Vaxili thinks that I'm not good enough for her?'

Sanze sighed inwardly. Gersina could be pig-headed and blinder than the blind when he set his sights on a woman. Sanze replied in exasperation, 'Gersina, let's stop beating about the bush. To put it plainly, in the eyes of the king, I'm not good enough for Mecolo, you're not good enough for Mecolo, and just about every man in the whole damn army, not to mention every man in the rest of Berina, isn't good enough for Mecolo. Don't take it personally. It's just the way it is.'

Gersina's eyes narrowed. He put his chin forward and said, 'Mecolo seems to think I'm good enough.'

'Oh, congratulations, Gersina! You've charmed the king's daughter and now you think that means that you'll charm the king as well.'

'You're just jealous!'

One accusation in a day was enough, twice was too much. Sanze felt like beating something in sheer frustration. Gersina, the brick wall, the ground under his feet—just about anything would do. Predictably, the conversation ended without conclusion. Sanze knew Gersina well enough to see that he wasn't going to take advice on this matter, no matter how hard he pressed him. Gersina and women! How could someone as cool-headed and resourceful as Gersina become so short-sighted and pig-headed when he set his sights on a woman? In all the years that he had known Gersina, thought Sanze, he had never found a satisfactory answer to that question.

Later, he asked himself if Gersina was playing a deeper game than the one that men and women always played. Did Gersina think that he could kill two birds with one stone? Did he think that he could land the big fish safely, and net Vaxili's goodwill as well? Did he think that he could play for big stakes against heavy odds, and win the grand prize? Yes, it looked like he did. But how did he think he was going to do it? Sanze shook his head and tried to stop worrying about the matter. After all, it was Gersina's business, and his alone. Gersina would suffer the consequences or reap the rewards. At least, that was what Sanze told himself. But he couldn't shake off a heavy sense of foreboding.

A few days later, Dana told him that she would be going away for about a week. Vaxili's mother would be celebrating her sixtieth birthday and Vaxili was sending Mecolo and his two younger sons to attend the occasion. Mecolo had selected Dana to accompany her as her personal attendant.

Sanze said, 'I didn't know that you were one of Mecolo's attendants.'

Dana said with affected nonchalance, 'Officially, I'm not one of Mecolo's attendants but she's selected me for this occasion.' Dana couldn't hide the satisfaction in her voice.

'Selected for services rendered?'

Dana's eyes flashed. She put up a finger and said, 'Watch your words, Sanze! You think I'm not suitable to be an attendant, don't you?' Dana put her hands on her hips and thrust the words at him. 'You think just because my father is a cook— '

'That's not what I meant!'

'What did you mean, then?'

Sanze took Dana's hand and said, 'I don't want you to go. I'm going to miss you, Dana.'

Dana softened. She said, 'I'll miss you too. But this is a big opportunity for me. It could result in a permanent appointment.'

'I know that, Dana. I'm happy for you. But I'm not happy for myself.'

'I'll only be away for a week, Sanze.' She kissed him on his cheek and whispered, 'I'll make up for lost time when I get back—you'll see.'

Early next morning, the party began their journey. Their destination was near the Great River, at a place where the river was at the apex of its wide sweep westwards, so the journey would only take them a day. It would be a long day, but they planned to reach their destination before nightfall.

As fate would have it, they didn't reach their destination. The first that Sanze knew about it was when Vaxili's adjutant woke them just after midnight, shouting, 'Gersina and Sanze! Out of bed! Get dressed!'

They fumbled around for flints and candles amidst yawns and complaints from all around them. The adjutant roared at their comrades, 'Shut your mouths or I'll put the whole lot of you on a charge for disrespect.' To Sanze and Gersina, he barked, 'I want the two of you on the parade ground in less than ten minutes. Carry light packs and swords. Get moving!'

About thirty men from various units assembled on the parade ground, stamping and shivering in the night air. The adjutant called them to attention, counted them, stood them at ease, and said, 'You've been selected for a special assignment. An Usserdite raiding party captured Princess Mecolo, her brothers, and the rest of the party. You will rescue them.'

Sanze and Gersina looked at each other. They could hardly make out each other's faces in the dim light, but each knew what the other was thinking.

Someone asked, 'Where did this happen, commander?'

'West of Erlata, on the road to the Great River. Any more questions?'

'Won't they be over the river in Usserdite territory by now, commander?'

'Perhaps they will be, perhaps they won't be. Probably not, because they'll be slowed down by captives and baggage. But wherever they are, this side of the river or on the other side, you will find them, and you will bring our people back safely. You will also bring back as many prisoners as possible. Is that clear?' The adjutant peered at the squad and asked, 'Where is Gersina?'

'Here, commander!' Gersina stepped forward.

'Good! You will command the unit. Do you understand what you have to do?'

'Yes, commander.'

'Any questions?'

'No, commander.'

The adjutant peered at them again and barked, 'Where is Sanze?'

'Here, commander.'

'You will act as deputy commander of the expedition. Is that clear?'

'Yes, commander!' Sanze tried to keep his voice calm, but his pulse began to race at the realisation that he had just received his first promotion, even if it was only a temporary one.

The adjutant said, 'You will move immediately. Leave your packs here for the logistics unit to pick up. They will follow you.' He saluted Gersina and said, 'Take over, acting commander.'

Gersina stepped forward, saluted, and shouted an order. With swords secured across their backs, the unit set off at a quick trot. About three hours later, they reached Erlata at sunrise. Erlata was a medium-sized village with the main track, the one that they were following, running straight through it from east to west. At Erlata, they learned that the attack took place about half an hour's travelling time to the west at a place where the country became more broken and rugged before the escarpment tumbled down to the Great River.

In Erlata, they found someone who had witnessed the incident. He told them that it happened where the track narrowed to pass between rocky hillocks in broken countryside. The man said that he came around a corner in the track, saw the start of the attack, and concealed himself without being seen. He said that there were about twenty Usserdite bandits; they killed all of the soldiers and some of the servants and took the rest of the party captive. As far as he could tell, about five of the bandits were killed during the attack.

Gersina asked, 'Were any of them mounted?'

'I saw some donkeys carrying packs, but I didn't see any horses.'

Gersina nodded in satisfaction and said, 'That means that they won't be moving quickly. We could catch them before nightfall.'

An elder said dourly, 'You'd better do a good job. If they get the captives back to Usserd, they'll be sold as slaves.'

Another elder said, equally dourly, 'If the women are young enough, their chiefs use them in their harems to breed men for their bodyguards.'

Once again, Sanze and Gersina exchanged glances. Once again, each knew what the other was thinking.

They pressed on at a fast pace and, after about thirty minutes, reached the site of the attack where they found that the bodies were still lying next to the road. Their faces were bloody and disfigured as if a drunken butcher had hacked at them. This was an Usserdite trademark: they cut out their enemies' tongues and ears as offerings to their gods.

They gave the bodies a provisional burial while Gersina scouted ahead. After ten minutes, he returned and said, 'They've taken their dead with them. That will also slow them down.'

Sanze asked, 'Any sign of horses?'

Gersina shook his head. 'No, I can only find donkey tracks.' He hitched up his sword and said tersely, 'We can catch up with them before sunset. Let's get moving.' Gersina pointed south-west to a break in the jumble of rocks where a path snaked up the slope towards a ridge. 'They're travelling across country, away from the regular trails. With the donkeys carrying loads and with wounded men, they won't be moving fast.' Gersina hitched his sword over his back and asked, 'Any questions?'

Someone asked, 'Do we kill them, or do we capture them alive.'

'You heard what the adjutant said. Kill anyone who offers resistance but try to take as many alive as possible.'

Someone said heatedly, 'We should eliminate every one of them.'

Gersina's eyes flashed when he replied, 'We will obey our orders. But, if it helps to know why we've been ordered to take prisoners, remember that Berina has a peace treaty with the Usserdite confederation. King Vaxili wants to show good faith by letting their own people deal with them.' Gersina jerked a thumb towards the ridge. 'That's enough talking. We can bother about killing or capturing once we've caught up with them. Let's go.'

During early evening, the advance scout reported that they had caught up with the raiders. Sanze and Gersina went forward to reconnoitre. They crept up to a ridge from which they could look down onto the river bank and watch the bandits moving about, lighting fires and preparing for the night. Gersina touched Sanze's shoulder and muttered, 'There they are—next to the donkeys.'

Sanze grunted in acknowledgement. He had also seen them. There were eight captives in all—Dana, Mecolo, Mecolo's two brothers, their attendants, and two servants. They were lashed to trees and looked dirty, scared, and uncomfortable. However, thank Zabrazal, they all appeared to be unharmed. As he studied the small form of Dana, lashed against a tree, trussed up like a bag of someone's possessions, Sanze's anger rose so high that it almost choked him. He wanted to rush down, hack his way past anything that stood in his way, and take her in his arms. He wanted to feel her fear ebbing away while he whispered to her that, while he was alive, nothing would ever harm her again. However, he fought down the feeling while reminding himself of Zaliek's words: 'Forget about revenge. Forget about resentment. They get in the way of clear thinking.' Sure, he would observe those dictums. But that wouldn't protect any Usserdite who stood in his way, once they swung into action.

After a few minutes, Gersina muttered, 'We've seen enough. Let's move back.'

They slid back down the slope and into the shelter of a small ravine. Gersina asked quietly, 'How many of them?'

'I saw twelve Usserdites.'

Gersina nodded. 'Me too. But some of them could have been out of sight by the river. Let's say thirteen or fifteen at most.' Gersina looked at him keenly and asked, 'As you see it, what are our options?'

Sanze said, 'We could wait for about three hours until they're asleep and then we could take them.'

Gersina shook his head. 'There's no moon. If we attack in the dark, we'll be as confused as they are. What's more, some of them will escape, for sure.'

'What do you suggest, then?'

Gersina tugged at an ear and replied, 'I think that we should wait until just before sunrise. We'll put five men on the other side of the river to block their escape. The rest of us should be able to handle them if we take them by surprise. You agree?'

Sanze nodded, trying to show composure. But Sanze had to admit that his eagerness to rescue Dana had overcome his cooler reason. Damn it, he thought, get a grip on yourself. You're a soldier, not a schoolboy.

The plan worked almost perfectly. As arranged, five members of their party took up positions across the river, and at first light the main group launched its attack on the camp. On the way in, they encountered only one guard, asleep against a rock. Sanze dealt with him with a sword thrust and within a few seconds they were within the encampment. By Zabrazal, thought Sanze, they were a slovenly and negligent lot! The raiders were lying around in disorder amidst wine jugs and the remains of their meal, surrounded by a jumble of equipment. Didn't they think that they would be followed? Didn't they even know how to set up a proper camp? Of course, they were only bandits, not soldiers. What could you expect from a thieving rabble?

They went about their business so quietly and with such commitment that eight of the bandits were dead before anyone noticed. By then it was too late to offer resistance. The remaining Usserdites had swords at their throats.

Sanze turned his attention to releasing the captives and then stopped abruptly. One of the Usserdites had been on guard duty and must have been alerted by the noise from the camp. Sizing up the situation, the bandit grabbed the nearest captive, slicing through the rope that bound her to the tree. He hauled her to her feet, backed behind her, put a knife to her throat, and called out, 'Let my comrades go or I'll cut her throat.'

He was holding Dana. With her head pulled back and the knife at her throat, she squinted at Sanze in confused terror. Sanze moved forward but the man jerked Dana's head further backwards and shouted, 'One more step and she'll be dead.'

There was an impasse for just a moment. Then Gersina appeared behind the man, about ten paces away. Gersina said, 'If you kill her, we'll kill you for certain. Give yourself up now and save your life.'

The Usserdite looked around, looked back at Sanze, and then cut Dana's throat. Perhaps he thought that he could escape if he caused a diversion, perhaps he had a death wish—who knew?

Sanze rushed forward to Dana while Gersina killed the bandit. Dana was lying face down. Sanze turned her over. She was dead with her throat gashed and with the look of terror on her face. Sanze held Dana to him and wept while her blood oozed over his chest, over his stomach, and over his belt. He wept not only for Dana, but for the death of one of the best things in his life.

CHAPTER NINE: COMRADES

That was the last time that Sanze ever cried. Looking back on the incident, he knew that he had betrayed his professional calling. By allowing himself the indulgence of weeping over Dana, he had disabled himself and he had diverted his comrades' attention. Later, still flushed with shame, again he remembered what they had learned during basic training, where Zaliek drilled it into them that they should bury emotions such as grief, anger, vengefulness, and personal ambition because they distract a soldier from his task and weaken his comrades' resolve. Never again did Sanze forget Zaliek's teaching.

It was also the last time that Sanze allowed himself to get close to a woman. At the time, he convinced himself that a relationship with a woman prevented him from focusing on his task as a soldier. But, looking back down the years, he had to admit that, never again, did he want to tempt fate by offering it a target through which it could strike at him. Fate? Was it fate or was it Zabrazal, settling with him by wiping a batch of minuses off his scorecard all in one great scoop? Sanze didn't know—but if it was Zabrazal, then in future Zabrazal could settle with him directly and not through other parties.

Of course, in the intensity of his grief he forgot that there were other targets at which Zabrazal could strike to discomfort him, if that was his intention. For instance, there were his parents and there was his brother, Abozi. Even Gersina, his boyhood friend, his oldest friend, could be a target.

While Sanze succumbed to a bout of unsoldierly weeping over Dana's dead body, Gersina and the rest of the squad members secured the Usserdites and released the captives. Mecolo's eyes sparkled with pleasure when she saw Gersina, and she held out her arms to him. But, in a moment, she recalled where she was and who she was, dropped her arms, and said formally, 'I thank you all for your bravery. I thank you on behalf of everyone here.'

Her delight was short-lived. Mecolo wept when she kneeled next to Dana's dead body and she wept again when she offered Sanze her condolences. However, within a few minutes she composed herself and began to discuss the situation with Gersina. That gave Sanze the time to get a hold of his emotions, dry his eyes, and walk over to join them. As deputy commander of the expedition, he had to attend to his duties.

Gersina said, 'I've told lady Mecolo that we have to move right now.' He jerked his thumb towards the western bank of the river, saying tersely, 'We don't know what might come at us from over there.'

Mecolo pointed to the captives who were standing linked by a rope with their hands bound behind their backs. She asked, 'What about them?'

Gersina replied, 'Our orders are to take as many prisoners as possible and to deliver them safely to Thania.'

Mecolo's mouth tightened and her eyes went hard. She said, 'They will delay us. We should hang them now.'

'Of course, they deserve to be hung, my lady. Probably they will be hung. But that's not our decision. We have been ordered to take them to Thania, and that is what we will do.'

'And what if I order you to hang them now?'

Gersina said steadily, 'My lady, our orders come from your father, the king.'

Mecolo said in a hard-edged voice, 'That's a pity! They deserve to be hung for what they did, not to mention for what they would have done with us.' Mecolo walked over to the nearest prisoner, spat in his face, and said, 'Pha! My father will deal with you. You'll learn what it means to interfere with the daughter of Vaxili of Berina.' She pointed two fingers close to the man's face as if she was going to poke out his eyes. When the man winced and averted his face, Mecolo gave a short laugh and said, 'If it was up to me, you wouldn't leave this place alive.' She spat at him again and walked away.

As the squad approached Thania, a crowd met them and accompanied them home with singing and ululation. After the disaster of Gandonda, people welcomed any and every cause for celebration, no matter how insignificant. However, during the celebration, scant attention was given to the dead bodies that were draped over the donkeys. Only family members and friends mourned the dead—and they were a small minority among the people who thronged around them, singing praises and assailing the prisoners with curses, blows, and threats. Berina needed a military victory, and if the real thing wasn't available, then these miserable bandits, bound for death in either Berina or Usserd, would do instead.

Mecolo had the good sense not to lead the celebration. In fact, she had been subdued ever since the rescue. Probably, thought Sanze, her close contact with danger and terror had sobered her spirit, for the moment, at least. During the journey, she only brightened up on the occasions when Gersina walked next to her holding her donkey's bridle and conversing with her in a low voice. After the first occasion, Sanze took Gersina aside and warned him to stay away from Mecolo. However, Gersina just grunted in annoyance and replied, 'She's the king's daughter and I'm the commander of this unit. Do you expect me to ignore her?'

In Thania, Vaxili, his commanders, and Izebol received the party in front of the temple. Izebol blessed them, made a short speech of welcome, pronounced the benediction, and then disappeared into the temple. Vaxili congratulated them, paying tribute to their courage and initiative. Then he dismissed the parade and came down from the platform with his arm around Mecolo. He said to Sanze and Gersina, 'You have done both Berina and me a great service.'

Gersina replied, 'It is our duty, your majesty.'

Vaxili looked at them speculatively and asked, 'Gersina and Sanze, eh? First you were the scourge of the Dornites and now it's the turn of the Usserdites.'

Sanze replied, 'Your majesty, we are at the service of Berina and the king.'

Vaxili's eyes narrowed as he asked them, 'You are both from Osicedi, are you not?'

'Yes, your majesty.'

Vaxili frowned, saying, 'Hmm! Who would have thought that even the north would render me good service?' It was a strange remark, one that Sanze forgot within a few seconds and only understood a few months later. Still looking at them closely, as if he wanted to imprint their features on his memory, Vaxili said, 'You will expect to be rewarded for your services, no doubt?'

Sanze and Gersina exchanged puzzled glances before Gersina replied, 'Your majesty, we have only done our duty, as soldiers should. That is reward enough.'

There was an awkward silence before Mecolo broke the tension by moving forward quickly and embracing Sanze. She said, 'I thank you on behalf of my father and on behalf of Berina. I also thank you on my own behalf.' Then, still holding Sanze's hands, she said, 'We will not forget Dana. She was my good friend and I loved her dearly.' Mecolo embraced Gersina next, lingering just enough to whisper something to him. Gersina's face brightened for a few seconds before he straightened his features.

Sanze sneaked a look at Vaxili, who was looking darkly at Mecolo and Gersina. As Vaxili watched Mecolo whispering to Gersina, Vaxili shook his head slightly, as if relegating the impression to the deep reaches of his memory. Then Vaxili straightened, pointed to the prisoners, and asked Gersina, 'How many of them did you kill?'

'Ten, your majesty.'

'Was that necessary? Couldn't you have taken more prisoners?'

'Your majesty, we did what the situation called for.'

Vaxili asked tersely, 'But ten? Surely you could have killed fewer of them?'

'Your majesty, we obeyed orders in every respect. We had to secure the situation before we could release the captives.'

Vaxili stroked his chin and looked from them to the prisoners and then back again. He gave a sceptical nod and said, 'No matter. We have enough prisoners, whether we want to bargain with them, or make an example of them.' He nodded brusquely and turned on his heel.

During the weeks that followed, Gersina and Mecolo saw a lot of each other. At first they met at the stables, where Mecolo pretended to be showing Gersina how to care for a horse. When that attracted a crowd of gawkers, they tried to meet out in the countryside. Mecolo went for a ride on her favourite horse while Gersina pretended to be going on a cross-country run. Their plan didn't succeed because, by order of her father, Mecolo always had to be accompanied by at least one lady-in-waiting and two bodyguards. Although she managed to out-distance her entourage, she and Gersina hardly had time to begin a conversation before the first guard appeared, cursing and bumping on his mount and complaining that he would have to report Mecolo to her father.

Next, Gersina and Mecolo gave up their attempts to meet during the daytime and began to meet under cover of darkness. Although this wasn't difficult for Gersina because he could slip in and out of the camp easily, it was more difficult for Mecolo to get away without being noticed. The palace was no more than a small compound that had been formed by putting a wall around three of the more comfortable houses in the town, and security was tight all over the complex. Mecolo devised the stratagem of disguising herself as a serving-woman and told Gersina that in this guise she was able to come and go without being observed. In Sanze's opinion, this was merely self-deception, especially when he remembered the threatening look on Vaxili's face and knew that Mecolo would be watched day and night. With foreboding, Sanze thought that this was a hazardous and foolish business. But when he said this, Gersina's eyelid twitched, the flecks in his eyes glowed and he poked his finger at Sanze while asking belligerently, 'What business is it of yours?' However, despite his anger, Gersina had a half-defiant, half-troubled look as if he wasn't as certain as he liked to sound.

Sanze replied steadily, 'All right, since you ask, I'll tell you. Firstly, we are age mates and comrades. Do you think that you live only for yourself? Do you think that you are Gersina the lone agent, living your life in splendid isolation?'

'What I do in private— '

'Let me finish! I'm saying that what you do affects me and others, whether you like it or not. Secondly, Gersina, you can climb to the high places. You've already had your first command, even if it was only temporary. Where could you be in five or ten years' time? Stop and think, man! You can go places, much further and much faster than other people. Consider other people and consider your future!' Gersina put up a hand to stop him but Sanze ignored him and continued 'Oh, sure, what does it matter what your age mate and comrade, good old Sanze, thinks about you, eh? But have a care for Berina and for what you can do for the nation. I don't want to see that wasted.'

Gersina took a deep breath, exhaled, and said, 'I'll think about it.'

Sanze said, 'Yes, you do that.'

Vaxili honoured his promise to reward them for their services. Within a week, Sanze and Gersina were promoted to deputy commanders. However, typically, while Vaxili gave with one hand he took away with the other. Their unit was ordered to an isolated spot on the eastern escarpment near to where the battle of Gandonda had taken place. In future, Deputy Commander Gersina and Princess Mecolo would not be able to meet each other so easily, if at all.

However, the move didn't matter to Sanze. With Dana gone, there was a chasm in his soul and a hard resolve in his mind. He loved his family and, yes, he loved Gersina. They were the only personal relationships that claimed his affections, and that was because they were already in place before Dana was destroyed. For the rest, he would live and die for the cause of Berina, and for that alone; no new relationships would have a claim on his affections.

CHAPTER TEN: A WORTHY INSTRUMENT

Gandonda occupied a strategic position on Berina's south-eastern flank, because it was located on the last range of hills before the escarpment sloped away to the coastal plane. Traffic from the coast had to funnel through the pass at Gandonda to reach the highland plains that stretched westward towards the Great River and northwards towards Thania. More importantly, from Gandonda the roads fanned out towards the rich wheat fields, mines, and forests of the distant countries to the south-west of Berina.

Sanze and Gersina's unit was based to the north of Gandonda in a position that overlooked both the coastal plain and the approach to the pass. From their vantage point, the walls and buildings of the Dornite city of Asjolorm were clearly visible, glinting on the plain about a half-day's journey away. In the distance, obscured by the coastal haze, three of the Dornite coastal cities were visible as well, appearing as light-coloured smudges against the green of the plain, backed up by the turquoise, white-flecked expanse of the Endless Ocean.

One afternoon, about a week after their arrival at the base, Sanze and Gersina walked to a rocky promontory that thrust out above the plain like the prow of a ship. One of the things that they shared was a fondness for high places. Both were entranced by the almost disembodied experience of looking out from a high place. There you seemed to be floating while at the same time the features around you—the hills and crags to left and right, the plain spreading below, the clouds above and all around—were clean and sharply defined in the fine air. Yes, thought Sanze, they were both as seduced by high places as they were by the dream of the kingdom—and the kingdom, too, was a high place, and even more seductive than ridges, crags, and elevated views over hills and plains.

Gersina wrapped his arms around his legs and, with his chin on his knees, said reflectively, 'Do you remember a place like this when we were boys?' Sanze nodded. Gersina gave a slow smile and pointed to the plain below. 'You said that our flocks had as much chance of grazing down there as we had of grazing on the moon.'

'Nothing has changed.'

'Nothing at all?'

'Not that I can see. The Dornites are still down there and we are still up here. The Dornites are still harassing us, treating Berina like their private possession, and we're still struggling to defend ourselves.'

Gersina grunted thoughtfully. 'There's something else that hasn't changed as well.'

'What's that?'

'The prophecy.'

'The one about Berina being free when land and people reach the sea?'

Gersina lay back, hands behind his head, sucking on a stalk of grass. Sanze did the same. After a while, Gersina said, 'It's either us or them. Since the Battle of Gandonda, I see it more clearly than ever before—not that I ever doubted it. There can't be any compromise. It's a matter of us or them, plain and simple.'

Sanze grunted his agreement. More than ever, he felt as if there was a current running through his daily existence: it was a current that ran ever stronger and straighter towards the goal of subduing the Dornites and exalting the Kingdom of Berina. It was a current to which he willingly submitted himself, seeking to become perfect as an instrument of the great task.

Gersina rubbed his chin and said, 'We shouldn't wait for the Dornites to come at us; attack is the best form of defence.'

'Meaning—?'

Gersina pointed across the plain, saying thoughtfully, 'You see that city down there? We could attack it.'

'Attack Asjolorm! Are you crazy?'

'That's it! Don't you see? You think it's crazy to attack Asjolorm. Everyone in our unit also thinks it's crazy. In fact, our whole army, including Vaxili, probably thinks it's crazy.'

'So —?'

Gersina asked easily, 'What do you think the Dornites in Asjolorm think about us attacking them?'

'They probably don't think about it at all.'

'Why not?'

'You know why. Firstly, they've got control of the whole coastal plain. Nobody threatens them down there. Secondly, down on the plain they can fight on their own terms. Thirdly, they know that we hardly have enough men to defend our own borders. How can we commit forces to fighting in their territory as well?'

'True enough! So you reckon that the Dornites wouldn't give a thought to the possibility of us attacking them?' Gersina gave Sanze a look that was almost self-satisfied, as if he was going to produce a trump card.

'If they did think about it, it would seem so crazy that they would just laugh at the idea.'

Still sucking at the juice from the stalk and with his eyes closed, Gersina said, 'Exactly!'

'Aha! So if everyone thinks it's crazy...?'

'Exactly!'

Sanze rolled over and straddled Gersina's chest, pinning his arms to the ground. 'I swear if you say "exactly" again, I'll throw you over the ridge, right into Dornite territory.'

Gersina lay there grinning easily. He asked, 'You think you've got me pinned down, eh?'

Sanze grinned back at him, bore his weight down against Gersina's chest, and said, 'For sure!' He leaned forward, pinning Gersina's arms more firmly against the ground. Gersina just sucked at the stalk of grass and chuckled. Sanze said, 'No more saying "exactly" —all right?'

Suddenly, Gersina lifted his body at the waist and moved it sideways. Trapping one of Sanze's legs under his body, he rolled over. In an instant, their positions were reversed. Gersina chuckled and said, 'All right, no more "exactly". You've convinced me.' He rolled off Sanze and lay on his back with his arms under his head. Then he said quietly, 'I got you when you weren't expecting it, didn't I? Do you still think I'm crazy?'

Gersina and Sanze discussed an attack on Asjolorm with their unit commander, who liked the idea and passed it on to headquarters. To their surprise, the plan was approved. Later, they heard that although Vaxili at first disapproved of the idea, Kainar persuaded him that it was viable.

Kainar arrived at their base to take personal charge of the attack. It was the first time that Sanze was able to get a close look at him and it confirmed his impression that Kainar had the squarest face he ever saw. It was square from his jaw, which looked as if it had been shaped from a brick, to his jowls, forehead, and flat-lying ears. Even his nose, asymmetrically off-centre, had been partially squared off. It looked as if it had been flattened in a fight. However, even if Kainar was an ordinary soldier, you wouldn't have dared to ask someone with Kainar's solid build and stolid countenance about how his nose got to be that shape.

Kainar got his fighting experience in skirmishes against Usserdite raiders on the south-western border, where he gained a reputation as a tough and innovative leader. He had no other military experience, in the formal sense. But, then, nor did anyone else. Everyone in the Army of Berina was learning on the job.

Although Kainar didn't have much formal military experience, he was no fool, and he knew how to devise and execute a plan. Within a day of his arrival, he had finalised the strategy for the attack. The first objective was to cut communication between the city and the Dornite garrison that was based halfway between Gandonda pass and Asjolorm by silencing the two guard posts on the highway. With that done, the garrison wouldn't know about the attack until long after the attacking party had finished its business and made its escape.

The plan was that one unit would attack the guard posts, while two parties attacked the city. One would set fire to the houses while the other would handle the fugitives at the gates. They would kill as many people as possible until they began to meet resistance. At that point the men would withdraw, retreating along the same paths that they had used on the approach.

When Kainar finished his presentation, there was a grumble of dissent. Someone said, 'General, your plan means that we will be attacking civilians.'

'Yes, that is so. Do you have any objection?'

'General, we are soldiers, not bandits. We should be attacking enemy soldiers, not civilians.'

Kainar silenced the man with a gesture. He barked, 'Soldiers, eh? Well, if you're soldiers, you'll know that the first thing you are trained to do is obey orders. Not so?'

'But general— '

'But nothing! Listen, soldier, you can leave now if you don't want to be part of the attacking force. There are plenty of men who will take your place. Well, what do you say?'

The speaker dropped his eyes and shook his head. Kainar put his jaw forward, looked around the squad, and barked, 'Any other objections?'

Gersina was brave enough, or foolish enough, to get to his feet. Kainar turned his attention to him: 'You have an objection?'

'No, general, not an objection, but— '

'What, then?'

'General, you must understand that we haven't made war on civilians before. It's a new thing for us.'

'I understand that. But you are soldiers and you had better get used to it. The Dornites don't make distinctions between soldiers and civilians, do they?' Kainar jabbed his finger at Gersina. 'What's your name, soldier? Don't I know you?'

'My name is Gersina, general.'

'Gersina, eh? Gersina the famous slayer of Drunuk? The same Gersina?'

'Yes, general, that's me.'

Kainar waggled a finger thoughtfully. 'Didn't I hear something about an incident involving you and some Dornite bandits when you were a boy?'

'Yes, general. My comrade, Sanze, and I defended our flocks against three Dornite raiders.'

'Defended?' Kainar gave a short chuckle. 'You tracked them down and killed them one by one, didn't you?'

'Yes, general.'

'Were they soldiers or civilians?'

'They were bandits, general.'

'Yes. They were bandits—civilian bandits. And, if I remember correctly, after that some Dornites attacked your town. Is that correct?'

'Yes, general.'

'Did they only attack soldiers in your town?'

'No, general. There were no troops in Osicedi.'

'And your brother was killed, wasn't he?'

'Yes, general, he was.'

'And was he a soldier?'

'No, general, he was a transport rider.'

Kainar grunted, turned, and began to pace in front of them, hands behind his back and head down. Then he wheeled around, snapped his fingers, and said, 'There you have it, eh? The Dornites don't distinguish between soldiers and civilians. Nor will we.' He jabbed a finger at them. 'Understand one thing and understand it well. We will not make war on civilians because we like it. We will do so because it weakens the support base and morale of their soldiers. If we do that, we weaken their military effort. If we destroy their towns, we weaken their military effort. If the soldiers worry about the safety of their families, they give less attention to military matters.' Kainar wagged his finger at them and barked, 'If you can't accept it, then you shouldn't be a soldier in this army.' Chin forward, standing with legs planted apart, Kainar said, 'Get this into your heads, and don't ever forget it: anything that weakens the Dornites—' He wagged his finger at them again: '—anything at all, no matter what it is—anything that weakens the Dornites is good for Berina. Do you understand?'

'Yes, general!'

'I didn't hear you!'

The squad roared, 'Yes, general!'

Kainar was thorough, leaving nothing to chance. He took the squad members through the phases of the attack so often that they could have recited the plan backwards. It was a simple strategy in which every man knew what to do, how to do it, and when to stop doing it.

On the night of the attack, by the light of the half-moon, the main party, consisting of fifty men, approached the town along back paths. Kainar's thoroughness showed in the way in which he had mapped the route beforehand, sending scouts to reconnoitre the path as far as the river and then relying on maps for details of the routes from the river to the city.

With the outline of the route firmly in their minds and with enough light to see by, they had no trouble reaching the city without being observed. Twenty men under Gersina's command approached the eastern side of the town, carrying ladders and fire-pots, while Sanze deployed his unit outside the main gate.

Surprisingly, there were no guards on the walls. The Dornites must have been so confident of their superiority that they completely discounted the possibility of an attack. Gersina and his men were able to select their targets at will and, within a few minutes, about twenty roofs were aflame. It was the dry season and the flames spread quickly across the wood, reed and thatch buildings. Having accomplished their task, the squad withdrew to guard the smaller gates.

The attackers could only judge what was happening within the walls by the spreading glow and by the growing hullabaloo. After about five minutes, the main gate opened, and a group of young men appeared carrying buckets, obviously hoping to douse the flames with water from the river. The squad members cut them down and dragged the bodies out of sight.

There was so much confusion that no one inside the walls noticed the disappearance of the men. Soon the next people appeared, comprising a family party of a man, a woman, and four children. They killed them as well. Even as the bodies were being dragged out of sight, there was a surge of people through the gate. The squad members hacked and thrust at them indiscriminately. It was butchery, pure and simple. In the confusion, amidst the crackle of the flames, the roar of collapsing buildings, the shouts and screams, and in the flickering light, only the fugitives on the outskirts of the crowd knew what was happening. They pressed inwards to avoid the onslaught while trying to defend themselves with whatever they were carrying—buckets, bundles, household implements, or anything else. Their press, together with the growing rush through the gate, added to the congestion and soon people were being trampled underfoot or crushed against the wall.

It was a sickening slaughter in which the soldiers thrust, cut, and hacked at human flesh almost without opposition. People screamed, doubled over, reeled, and staggered. They went down underfoot, the crowd pressed forward all around them, and the slaughter continued. The soldiers were working at such close quarters that they stopped using swords and went to work with daggers. Their victims slumped against them, screaming and gurgling, and had to be shoved away so that they could thrust at the next target.

After less than ten minutes, Sanze ordered his bugler to signal the end of the engagement. If anyone had questioned his judgement, he would have said truthfully that, in the confusion and among the milling throng, he had lost contact with most of his men and thought it best to withdraw before they were overcome by the sheer press of bodies. However, the truth was that he was more than heartily sick of the bloody, one-sided massacre. Asjolorm was being destroyed by raging fire, and the deaths of a few more civilians wouldn't make much difference.

As Sanze jogged along the path towards the river, he passed some fugitives. Most of them were so distressed that they didn't even look at him. A few recognised him as a Berinian soldier and attacked him in wild fury, cursing and screaming, beating him with their fists. He ignored them or just shoved them aside; he was already sick to his stomachs of slaughter.

As Sanze approached the clearing where he would join the rest of his unit, someone attacked him, screaming in the Dornite language. Sanze felt a sharp pain in his arm and turned to defend himself, striking out with his free arm to drive back the attacker. He contacted soft flesh, heard a gasp of pain, and drove forward, head down, pinning the body against a tree, bending the assailant's attacking arm backwards. As Sanze drew back his arm to strike with his dagger, he saw that his attacker was a young woman. Her hair was loose, her eyes were wide, and her teeth were bared in pain. Sanze held back his thrust in surprise, and she lunged forward and tried to sink her teeth into his neck; however, he grabbed her hair and forced her head back. Their eyes met, and she spat at him. Her spittle dribbled down his cheek as he pressed his body against hers. The old lightning flickered through his veins and, as the heat flushed over him, he pressed closer against her, driving into her softness. She screamed as he yanked at her hair and pulled her head farther backwards. With his face close to hers, gripping her hair behind her head, pressed against her, he looked at her. It was familiar—too familiar. She reminded him of Dana in the grip of the Usserdite bandit. There was the same tilt of the head, the same grimace, and the same wide-eyed, desperate look. He went cold, cursed, and threw the woman away from him so that she landed on her back with a thud. Moaning in pain and fear, she tried to scramble away, supported on her elbows and digging into the ground with the back of her heels.

Behind him, someone said, 'Kill her, man. She's getting away.'

Sanze looked around. It was Gersina. Sanze panted, 'Let her go.'

Gersina said, 'Then I'll do it.' He unsheathed his sword and moved forward. The woman was still scrambling backwards, whimpering and digging her elbows and heels into the ground, wide-eyed and terrified.

Sanze grabbed Gersina's arm, shouting, 'Leave her, man. She's helpless.'

Gersina cursed and tried to shake him off but Sanze gripped him tighter and swung him around so that his body was between him and the woman. They stood there for a moment, chest to chest, eye to eye, glaring at each other. Sanze didn't know what would have happened next if, right at that moment, someone hadn't shouted urgently, 'Gersina! Sanze! Get a move on! Our comrades are on their way to the river.'

Gersina grunted, sheathed his sword, and relaxed. As they jogged down the path to the river, he said, 'You could have had her, my friend—one way or the other.'

Sanze replied, 'It's over. It's better that way. Forget about it.'

Gersina asked quietly but grimly, 'Are you going soft, Sanze?'

Sanze said, in a cold voice, 'There's been enough slaughter for one night.' He clutched his arm and felt the damp warmth of blood. The wound was painful, but it wasn't deep. Sanze thought, incongruously, that this was his first battle wound—and he got it from a woman.

Gersina jogged a few more paces and then said, 'Dornites are Dornites, man. Dornites are the enemy.'

'There's been enough slaughter for one night. Leave it be.'

Gersina responded tight-lipped, 'Remember our orders, man. There's no distinction between soldiers and civilians. This is war and we are soldiers.'

A wave of anger swept over Sanze, fiercer even than the lightning that had burned through him only a few minutes earlier. He said, 'Oh, go back and fight your civilians, Gersina! Go back and cut down every woman and child that you can find. Hey, maybe you can find a few old men who can give you an equal contest with their walking sticks. And don't forget to bring their heads back on a lance so that everyone can applaud you. Maybe they can even arrange for a few women to dance in front of you, eh?' Gersina said nothing but Sanze sensed how he started and stiffened with resentment. After a few paces, Sanze said, 'You think I'm going soft, hey? Wait until we get back to camp. You can choose your weapons, and then we'll see who's going soft.'

Gersina shot him a look that was both startled and appraising. He snorted as if he didn't believe what he was hearing and, after a short silence, muttered, 'Forget about it, man. I know what you're worth.'

'Do you, Gersina?'

'Yes, I do. Forget about it, eh?'

'Do you really know, Gersina?'

Gersina just grunted in reply.

Forget about it? Sanze never forgot how the lightning-sharp exhilaration pounded through his body as he pressed against the woman, driving forward, able to have her, in Gersina's words, one way or the other. More than that, he never forgot how he saw the image of Dana's last moments in the woman's wild eyes.

The squad members got back to camp just before sunrise, went through a debriefing session, and then collapsed onto their cots. However, despite being exhausted, Sanze couldn't go to sleep. His mind was full of images of the slaughter outside the gates of Asjolorm. Then, when he did drop off to sleep, he dreamed about Dana. He dreamed that she was lying with him on the hillside near Thania where they watched the clouds drifting across the sky. The dream was so vivid that he could hear Dana's voice saying that the clouds asked the questions. Then he imagined that she caressed and welcomed him tenderly as her lover. He dreamed that, with his eyes closed in ecstatic expectation of reaching his goal at last, he prepared to enter and possess her warm sweetness. As he entered her, he dreamed that she shuddered and gasped, not as a lover but as someone in the throes of terrible pain. Sanze opened his eyes and saw that she lay beneath him with staring eyes, with head lolling, and with her throat cut. He awoke to the sound of his own cry and didn't dare to sleep again.

CHAPTER ELEVEN: ZABRAZAL'S BLESSING

The attack was successful beyond their greatest expectations. The city of Asjolorm burned out completely, leaving nothing but an empty husk. Hundreds of houses were destroyed. The governor's precinct was a soot-streaked ruin, the oil and grain storehouses were reduced to nothing but ashes and broken jars, while the armoury collapsed into a mound of shattered masonry and molten metal. All in all, it was a major victory that was gained at literally no cost to the attackers. Moreover, at last the fight had been taken to the enemy. Ever since the Dornites had established themselves on the coastal plain about two hundred years earlier, they had been the aggressors, raiding the Berinian flocks, pillaging their towns and villages, carrying off captives and seizing Berinian territory. Now for the first time the tables had been turned.

A few days later, Vaxili summoned Sanze and Gersina to his headquarters. As they waited in an antechamber, Sanze looked around curiously. The room had bare, whitewashed walls and a low wooden ceiling. It was sparsely furnished, containing only a bench, a few straight-backed chairs and a table that was haphazardly strewn with stacks of documents and items of clothing. It was not what he expected to find in royal precincts. Sanze asked Gersina in a low voice, 'Is this the palace?'

Gersina looked at him in amusement and replied, 'Palace? No, this is just a house that Vaxili has converted for use as his headquarters.'

'Where does he live?'

Gersina jerked a thumb over his shoulder. 'He lives in a house next door.' Gersina gave Sanze another amused look and commented, 'It's in better condition than this one—a lot better by far. But don't think that Vaxili is going to be satisfied with living in converted accommodation for long. He's going to build a palace in his home village. He's already commissioned architects from Kitilat to draft the plans.'

'Why there? It's out of the way. It's not the place for the capital of Berina.'

Gersina shrugged phlegmatically and answered, 'It's where Vaxili feels at home.'

Sanze asked, 'Where does Mecolo feel at home?'

In reply, Gersina glared at him and clammed up so hard that Sanze could feel the tautness radiating over him like a wave of heat from an oven door. In the silence, from behind the inner door they could hear heated conversation. Sanze identified the voices of Vaxili and Kainar, as well as another voice that he knew he should recognise but just couldn't place. Gersina cocked his head and said sardonically. 'It sounds like Zabrazal's messenger isn't as happy with Vaxili as he might be.'

Sanze listened more closely. Gersina was right: it was Izebol's voice.

Suddenly the door burst open and Izebol stormed out, followed by a younger priest. Izebol stalked across the room, ignoring them. Only when Izebol's companion touched his arm and cocked his head towards them did Izebol stop, glower at them, and then bark, 'You! Are you Gersina?'

Gersina got to his feet, saying, 'Yes, your honour, I am Gersina.'

'And you? Who are you?'

'I am Sanze, your honour.'

'Ah, yes, Gersina and Sanze.' Izebol frowned and looked at them narrowly. Then he put out his hand and they kneeled and kissed it. Izebol said, 'Gersina and Sanze? The heroes who brought back the head of Drunuk, eh?'

'Yes, your honour.'

'And the same Gersina and Sanze who rescued Lady Mecolo from the Usserdite abductors, eh?'

'Yes, your honour.'

Izebol took a step forward and studied them so closely that Sanze felt as if he was being inspected on a parade ground. After a lengthy scrutiny Izebol suddenly barked, 'You had something to do with Asjolorm, I hear?'

'Yes, your honour.'

'How much, eh? How much?'

Gersina said, 'Well, your honour, we just suggested— '

'You just conceived the concept, not so?' Izebol thrust a finger at Sanze and demanded, 'You! What did you have to do with it?'

'Your honour, Gersina discussed his plan with me and I—'

Izebol grunted knowingly and silenced him with a wave. Still scrutinising them, he asked, 'Are you servants of Zabrazal?'

'Servants, your honour?'

'Yes! Servants! Servants of the one true god! Are you dedicated to his service?'

'Yes, your honour. We are servants of Zabrazal, your honour.'

Izebol wagged a finger at them and said sternly, 'Serve your god in your youth and you will be rewarded throughout your life. Do you believe that?'

'Yes, your honour.' Sanze replied fervently, hoping that Izebol would believe him and hoping that it was true. Gersina just gave an affirmative nod.

Izebol relaxed a little, waggled a half-friendly finger at them, and said, 'You are favoured by Zabrazal.'

'You honour?'

'It is as clear as it can be. Do you think that you would have enjoyed such success without the blessing of Zabrazal?'

They shook their heads vigorously while Sanze thought, 'Well, that's good news. If Zabrazal's chief representative says it, then it's probably true. In fact, it's almost as good as getting it from the horse's mouth, so to speak.' Then Izebol's mouth tightened and he interrupted Sanze's thoughts by growling, 'But as for your commanders—did they consult the omens? Did they consult the priests of Zabrazal?' Izebol snorted and lowered his voice. 'You were fortunate. Zabrazal blessed your ventures despite the negligence of your commanders.' He straightened and gestured towards the inner door, saying, 'Vaxili and Kainar know my mind on this matter.' Izebol glared at the door, looked at them in a half-speculative and half-approving manner, nodded regally, and swept out of the room.

They settled back, waiting to be called into the inner sanctum. However, before that happened, Mecolo entered through the outer door. Although she pretended to be surprised to see them, it was plain to see that she knew that they were there. Mecolo shot a cautious look at the inner door, fingered the neckline of her gown nervously, and said with feigned innocence, 'Gersina and Sanze! What are you doing here?'

They rose to greet her. Gersina bowed slightly and said, 'We are waiting to see your father, Lady Mecolo.'

'About what?'

'Something to do with Asjolorm, or so we were told.'

'Asjolorm? Is that the Dornite city that was destroyed?'

Gersina bowed again and said, 'The same, Lady Mecolo.'

Mecolo gestured to them to be seated while she remained standing, looking hesitant and apprehensive. She snatched at an invisible thread in the waist-line of her gown and then she flicked repeatedly at an imaginary speck on her sleeve. Next, she sat down on the edge of a chair, hands clenched tightly in her lap, and said brightly, 'Gersina and Sanze! What a pleasant surprise! I haven't seen you for such a long time.'

Gersina said smoothly, 'And we are the poorer for it, Lady Mecolo.'

She lowered her eyes and replied, 'So are we.' She started to say something, stopped, and then asked hesitantly, 'How long will you be in Thania?'

Gersina replied, 'Until tomorrow morning at least, my lady.'

Mecolo responded, 'Then perhaps we will see each other again before you leave?' Gersina nodded and gave her a searching look. Mecolo's eyes glowed before she said, 'That is good.' Then, keeping up the bright facade, she asked, 'And how have you been, Gersina?'

Gersina replied, 'Life has been very dull without you and the ladies of Thania, my lady.'

Mecolo stood, smoothed her gown over her hips, and flicked her tongue over her lips like a lizard testing the air before making its next move. Then, apparently satisfied with what she had found, she moved to stand halfway behind Gersina. She put her hand on his chair, just behind his shoulder, leaned forward and asked, 'But, Gersina, when you are so occupied with warlike and heroic deeds, surely you hardly miss the ladies?'

Mecolo was standing where Sanze could get a good look her. By Zabrazal, thought Sanze, Mecolo was dolled up to the nines and carrying it off with style as well. She was wearing a soft, lime-green gown that folded around her so lightly that she looked all fragility and vulnerability. The low-cut bodice was gathered under her bust so that there was plenty more to see than just a hint of the smooth flesh of her breasts when she leaned forward. That alone was enough to attract his attention, producing a distant ache that, even while he tried to suppress it, recalled someone else in another setting. Mecolo was a good-looking young woman—far above the average, Sanze had to admit—who knew how to arrange and display herself to the very best effect. On top of that, she carried with her the seductiveness of being close to power and high position.

Gersina glanced upwards over his shoulder and said with studied impassivity, 'Why, Lady Mecolo, when the ladies are as beautiful as you, nothing on earth could make any soldier of Berina forget them. Our deeds are inspired by the beauty of the maidens of Berina.' He paused and then said meaningfully, 'And especially by the maidens of Thania, who are nearest to our hearts.'

Mecolo pulled up a chair and sat down with her knees almost touching Gersina's. Even at a distance, Sanze could smell her perfume. Under the musky pungency, it carried the hint of the fresh warmth of her body. Mecolo demanded, 'Tell me about Asjolorm.'

Gersina said nonchalantly, 'Asjolorm? It was destroyed by fire. There's nothing much to tell.'

'Oh, Gersina, don't be so modest! I hear that you had a lot to do with what happened there.'

Gersina looked gratified but tried to hide it with a negligent shrug. He replied, 'No single person can take the credit. All of the men in our unit were involved in the attack.'

'And you were just one of the many?' Mecolo looked at Sanze and asked archly, 'Sanze, isn't he modest? Perhaps you can tell me what happened.'

Sanze replied, 'Lady Mecolo, we burned the city to the ground and we slaughtered a lot of people when they tried to escape. We slaughtered women and children along with the men. We slaughtered old people and we slaughtered babies. Then when things started to get too hot for comfort we got out of there fast. Like all good soldiers, we wanted to preserve our lives and limbs for the next battle. That's what happened. Next time, we hope that we'll be fighting soldiers, not destroying helpless civilians.'

Mecolo bit her lip and sat back stiffly with her hands in her lap. Sanze had rebuffed her but he didn't care. Once, not so long ago, he could have enjoyed these flirtatious approach-and-retreat, double-meaning games. With Dana, they had excited him. With Dana, they were steps in an exhilarating and intriguing dance. Now they irritated him. More than that, nowadays they reminded him of what he was trying to forget, trying to confine to the pit of oblivion.

Gersina tried to rescue the situation by saying quickly, 'It's true that Sanze and I were involved right from the beginning.'

'Oh? How? Do tell me.'

Gersina had just started telling the story when the inner door opened and Kainar appeared. Sanze and Gersina stood up and saluted but Kainar frowned and looked past them, saying severely, 'Lady Mecolo, I did not expect to see you here.'

Mecolo's eyes flickered warily but she maintained her composure and replied, 'I was hoping to see my father.'

'At this hour of the day, Lady Mecolo? Your father has his duties, you know.'

Mecolo wrinkled her nose and shrugged in studied indifference, saying, 'Then perhaps I won't see him now, if he's busy. Perhaps I'll call on him later'

Kainar took a step forwards so that he was standing squarely across the doorway. He replied evenly, 'Yes, my lady. Later would be much better. This evening would be best of all.'

Mecolo got up, moved to the outer door, then stopped and said to Sanze and Gersina, 'Well, it's been so nice talking to you. I hope that I will see you soon.'

Kainar said brusquely, 'They also have their duties, Lady Mecolo.'

'Yes, of course they do—and I'm sure that you know how to keep them busy, General Kainar.' Mecolo wrinkled her nose again, waved lightly, and was gone.

Kainar grunted and looked at Sanze and Gersina suspiciously. Then he ushered them through the door.

The inner room spacious and had a luxurious, sumptuous air, with its deep-piled carpets, large tapestries, and heavy drapes that reached from ceiling to floor. Although it was mid-morning, all the drapes were closed, so that the room had to be lighted by lamps. Sanze felt as if, in one moment, he had been transported to a secret cavern in a fabulous land. It was so surprising that he stopped abruptly, causing Gersina to collide with him. Gersina muttered something uncomplimentary while Sanze stepped forward, blinked, and adjusted to the scene. A huge table of heavy wood dominated the room. The surface was so highly varnished that he wondered incongruously if Vaxili and his aides used it to play some game or other—perhaps an exotic game in which polished counters were pushed aound. All around the table there were large chairs with high, carved backs and upholstered seats. Sanze stumbled against one of the chairs, stubbed a toe, and swore under his breath. Gersina pulled him backwards and muttered something that Sanze couldn't hear. It probably wasn't a compliment or a courtesy.

From behind them, Kainar said loudly, 'Your majesty, I present Deputy Commanders Gersina and Sanze.' Peering into the semi-gloom, at last Sanze located Vaxili. He was sitting at the head of the table with the lamplight falling on him obliquely so that half of his face was illuminated while the other half was in deep shadow. It was disconcerting, like encountering a man who wore only one half of a mask. Furthermore, the direction of the light exaggerated the effect of the scar under Vaxili's right eye, so that he appeared to be glaring at them with one eye narrowed in suspicion.

Gersina plucked at the hem of Sanze's tunic. Sanze glanced at him, saw that he was standing to attention, and followed suit. When they saluted, Vaxili only acknowledged them with a negligent gesture and motioned to them to be seated at the foot of the table. When Kainar murmured something to Vaxili, he scowled, pursed his lips, and looked Sanze and Gersina up and down with displeasure. Sanze guessed that Kainar had told Vaxili that Mecolo had been with them in the antechamber. His stomach muscles tightened in apprehension. This was not a good way to start the meeting.

Kainar settled down in a chair and there was a deep silence until he coughed discreetly. Vaxili nodded as if he had just remembered that he was in charge and said, 'Welcome, deputy commanders Gersina and Sanze. We are pleased to see you.'

'We greet your majesty.'

Vaxili waved a finger in acknowledgement and looked at Kainar expectantly. Kainar said, 'His majesty has invited you here so that he can thank you for your role in the attack on Asjolorm. He wishes to inform you that you will be decorated with the Order of the Defenders of Berina.'

Sanze and Gersina exchanged glances. Sanze could see that for some reason Gersina didn't want to speak first, so he tried to look appreciative and replied, 'We thank your majesty. It is a great honour.'

Vaxili looked at Gersina enquiringly. Gersina responded stiffly, 'We thank your majesty. It is an honour.'

For the next ten minutes, Vaxili asked them about the attack on Asjolorm. While doing so, he became quite animated, as if discussing a successful attack on the Dornites had cleared away his earlier mood of indifference. Then, as the discussion drew towards a conclusion, Vaxili put up a finger, smiled sardonically, and, with his head a little to one side, looked at Gersina shrewdly. After a pause, Vaxili said, 'It appears that you find service on the frontier productive, Deputy Commander Gersina. Do you agree with me?'

'Productive, your majesty?'

Vaxili said, 'You looked down toward Asjolorm, you saw the possibilities, and you conceived the plan for the attack—not so? Now, if you had not been based where you were—' He broke off and looked closely at Gersina.

Gersina swallowed hard and replied, 'It wasn't all my own doing, your majesty.'

'No?'

Gersina replied, 'My comrade, Sanze, also had a lot to do with it.'

'Yes, so you have already said. And as I've already said, I'm grateful to both of you.' Vaxili smiled sceptically and asked, 'Do you also find service on the frontier stimulating, Deputy Commander Sanze?'

'I serve Berina wherever I'm called to do so, your majesty.'

'One posting is as good as another, eh?'

'No, your majesty.'

Vaxili's eyes widened and he asked, 'No?'

'Your majesty...I mean that I prefer to be on active service. That is how I serve Berina best.'

'Ah! You prefer active service? You really do?'

'I like to be wherever I can oppose our enemies directly, your majesty.'

Vaxili nodded thoughtfully and drummed his fingers lightly on the top of the table. Then he half-turned in his seat and looked at the wall that was covered in drapes. There was a long silence. Suddenly, still looking in the same direction, Vaxili said reflectively, 'Killing Drunuk, rescuing my daughter, and now Asjolorm—they make a good team, don't they, General Kainar?'

'Indeed, they do, sir.'

Vaxili turned to face Sanze and Gersina. He leaned forward, hands clasped, and asked quietly, 'Do you also prefer active service on the frontier, Deputy Commander Gersina?' Vaxili looked at Gersina closely.

Gersina licked his lips and replied cautiously, 'I prefer to be wherever I can serve Berina best, your majesty.'

'Anywhere at all?'

Gersina paused, swallowed, and replied, 'Yes, your majesty. I am a soldier first and foremost. It is my duty to serve Berina wherever I am placed.'

Vaxili grunted and drummed the fingers of his right hand on the table, producing a light, incessant tic-tic sound. With his left hand, he stroked his throat slowly. After a while, he looked up and asked sharply, 'You are both from Lower Berina, not so?'

'Yes, your majesty.'

Vaxili looked at them thoughtfully as if they were goods that he was turning over in the bazaar. Then he asked, 'Would you not prefer to serve your own people?'

'Pardon, your majesty?'

'Gersina and Sanze—surely your first loyalty is to your own people? Surely you would want to serve them first? Isn't that only natural?'

Kainar got up quickly, bent over Vaxili's shoulder, and whispered to him urgently. Vaxili inclined his head and then waved Kainar away. He looked at Sanze and Gersina with a sceptical smile and asked, 'Well? What do you say?'

Sanze could hear Gersina taking a deep breath before he answered cautiously, 'Your majesty, the elders of Osicedi sent us here to serve the Kingdom of Berina. That is why we came here. We are soldiers of Berina. That is our profession and that is what we want to do.'

Vaxili leaned back and smiled at them as if he knew something that they didn't. There was a long silence. Then Vaxili said reflectively, 'Ah, yes—from Osicedi, eh? I have heard of Osicedi.' He smiled thinly and nodded at them as if he expected them to respond his remark. Sanze didn't know what sort of response was expected, but he was getting annoyed. He said, 'Your majesty, we were sent here to serve the Kingdom of Berina. We weren't sent here to serve Lower Berina, or Upper Berina, or any other part of Berina. However, your majesty, if you feel that our loyalty is in question, then please send us wherever you think that we and our loyalty belong.'

Kainar said sharply, 'Show respect to his majesty, Deputy Commander Sanze!'

Gersina put a hand on Sanze's thigh and gave it a warning squeeze. Sanze opened his mouth to speak but shut it when Gersina squeezed his thigh even more sharply. Gersina said quickly, 'Your majesty, our loyalty belongs to Berina, and to all of Berina without distinction of place or region. You may place us wherever we will give the best service.'

Vaxili was still stroking his throat and looking at them contemplatively. He pursed his lips and asked quietly, 'So, Deputy Commander Gersina, you wouldn't even mind being posted to headquarters here in Thania?'

'I wouldn't mind, your majesty, as long as that was where I could be useful.'

Vaxili ran a finger up his cheek, looked at the finger while he rubbed it with his thumb, and then said thoughtfully, 'The question is, useful to whom?'

'Your majesty?'

Vaxili asked pointedly, 'You wouldn't find that there were too many distractions here in Thania?'

'No, your majesty. I am a soldier of Berina and I—'

Vaxili waved a hand dismissively. 'Yes, yes, I know! You've said that already. You don't have to repeat yourself. You are good soldiers and you serve Berina with all your—no doubt you believe it when you say ... well, no doubt, no doubt.' Vaxili turned to Kainar and said in the same tone, 'We are fortunate to have such devoted soldiers in our ranks, General Kainar. Not so?'

Kainar looked fixedly at Vaxili and replied firmly, 'Indeed we are. We should remember that they have already rendered exceptional services. That is why your majesty wishes to congratulate them.' He said it so firmly that Vaxili raised his eyebrows before he lowered his gaze and began to drum his fingers on the table. Then, suddenly, Vaxili shot a question at Gersina: 'Are you absolutely sure that you would not be distracted if you were posted to Thania?'

'I am certain, your majesty.'

'Ah! No temptations posed by the fairer sex, for instance?'

'Not such as would interfere with my duties, your majesty.'

Vaxili pursed his lips. 'Hmm! I believe that you are acquainted with my daughter, Mecolo.'

'Yes, your majesty, I do know Lady Mecolo.'

'You know her well?'

'I am acquainted with her, your majesty. You will remember, on the expedition to rescue the party near the Great River—'

Vaxili silenced Gersina with an abrupt gesture. His eyes narrowed, and his face went hard. He said tight-lipped, 'Deputy Commander Gersina, I know all about you and my daughter. I do not approve of your relationship with her.' There was silence around the table. Then, still tight-lipped, Vaxili said, 'I hope that I have made myself clear.'

'Your majesty—'

Vaxili silenced Gersina again. His eyes were as hard as his voice when he said, 'I will repeat myself. I said that I do not approve of your relationship with her. You understand?'

Gersina dropped his eyes and swallowed. 'Yes, your majesty.'

'You understand?'

'I understand, your majesty.'

'Good. We should be concentrating on fighting the Dornites without having to deal with distractions at home. You agree?'

'Yes, your majesty.'

Vaxili snapped his fingers. 'Good! We understand each other. That's settled.' He got to his feet, flexed his shoulders, and then leaned forward with both hands planted on the table. 'General Kainar, you said that there was something else to discuss with these young men?'

Kainar said in a relieved tone, 'They have a proposal for a plan of battle against the Dornites. I think that it is worth hearing.'

For the next half-hour, they presented the idea for a battle formation that they had discussed with Kainar after the attack on Asjolorm. Vaxili questioned them closely and appeared to be more than interested in their ideas. As the discussion ran towards a conclusion, Vaxili asked, 'Has your service on the frontier produced any other ideas?'

Gersina said, 'There is one thing, your majesty.'

'Yes?'

'Your majesty, we shouldn't only meet the Dornites on the battle field.'

'No? How then?'

'Your majesty, I believe that we should take the fight to them wherever and whenever they can.'

'Do you mean more attacks on their cities, as with Asjolorm?'

'That is a possibility, your majesty. But we were thinking of other things.'

'Such as?'

Gersina replied, 'Your majesty, my comrade Sanze has a suggestion.'

'Well, let's hear it.'

Gersina looked at him, inviting him to speak. Sanze would rather have departed right then, without any more talk, but he swallowed his feelings and said, 'We should be more mobile so that we can harass the Dornites. We need to keep them off balance. They should never know where our next attack is coming from.' Vaxili raised an enquiring eyebrow and Sanze continued, 'Your majesty, you have been importing horses from Kitilat. We could use more of them.'

Kainar sat forward looking interested and asked, 'Are you proposing that we should raise a cavalry regiment?'

Gersina said, 'Your honour, we were thinking more of a light mounted force that could harass the Dornite's supply lines or attack them in the rear. If we use the force well, it would destabilise the Dornites. It could divert their attention and divide their forces.'

Vaxili rubbed his chin and said, 'Berinian forces have never fought on horseback. What do you think, General Kainar?'

'The idea has merit, your majesty. We should consider it.'

As they were leaving the room, Vaxili called out sharply, 'Deputy Commander Gersina!'

'Your majesty?'

'I do not want to hear any more about you and my daughter.'

'Yes, your majesty.'

Vaxili turned his head away again, Sanze and Gersina saluted, and Kainar ushered them out of the room.

Outside the building, they took a few deep breaths and exhaled hard and long as the tension ebbed. Then, when they were well away from the building, Gersina exhaled again and said, 'What a bastard!'

Sanze replied, 'Wouldn't we rather serve Lower Berina! Does he think we're traitors, or spies, or infiltrators, or what?'

Gersina said sombrely, 'If that's what he really thinks, then it's bad news for Berina.'

They walked for a while in thoughtful silence. Then Gersina asked, 'Was Vaxili interested in our ideas? I don't know how to read him.'

'Maybe he just didn't want to commit himself or maybe he really wasn't much interested—I don't know.'

Gersina snorted dismissively. 'I'll tell you something that I learned today. Vaxili doesn't have a head for military matters. I thought so earlier but now I know it for sure. It's a good thing that Kainar was there. He understands what we're talking about, whereas Vaxili ...' Gersina swore and shrugged eloquently.

Just before they reached the camp, Sanze asked the question that was uppermost in his mind: 'What are you going to do about Mecolo?'

Gersina said, 'We will have to be more careful.'

'Careful? Is that all—be more careful? By Zabrazal, if I were you, I would lie low. In fact, I'd lie so low that they'd think that you had gone underground like a mole.'

Gersina pursed his lips and his face took on the stubborn, I-won't-be-diverted look that Sanze knew so well. Sanze sighed inwardly. The flecks in Gersina's eyes gleamed as he said, 'Don't worry. I can handle the situation.'

'Is that what you think?'

'For sure! I can handle it. Quit worrying.' Gersina clapped Sanze's shoulder reassuringly and said cheerfully, 'Hey, let's go and get some food in the canteen. I'm hungry. I bet you are, too.'

CHAPTER TWELVE: I WANT HER

Someone, probably Kainar, took their advice and established a light mounted unit. Although it was flattering to see their ideas being taken seriously, they weren't happy about the fact that that they were included in the first batch of recruits. For one thing, it was hard work. Before the horses arrived, they moved equipment, cleared bushes and grass, and levelled the site. They dug a protective ditch, pitched tents, and constructed latrines and a kitchen block. When they built the stables, it galled them to see that the horses were better accommodated than they were in their tents, where they had almost no protection from the heat and the cold and had to endure gusting winds and dust whipping in between the flaps and under the sides.

When the horses arrived at the camp, Zaliek was with them. He dismounted, gave them a broad, knowing grin, and said, 'Well, well, Gersina and Sanze! What are you doing here, of all places?'

'Someone drafted us, commander.'

'Now I wonder who could have done that?' Zaliek looked them up and down appraisingly and asked, 'Have you collected any good Dornite heads lately?'

Gersina answered, 'Not since you assisted us at Gandonda, commander.'

Zaliek gave Gersina a keen glance and growled, 'I hear that you've been quite busy since then, eh?'

'Just keeping out of mischief, commander.'

Zaliek looked around with an amused air, gestured at the camp, and remarked, 'Back to basic training, eh?'

'It looks like it, commander.'

Zaliek patted his horse's neck affectionately and asked, 'You youngsters didn't know that I could ride, did you?'

'No, commander, we didn't.'

'There are lots of things you don't know about me. Well, I'll tell you another thing you don't know about me. I learned to ride almost before I learned to walk.'

'Where was that, commander?'

Zaliek started to rub down his horse. Over his shoulder, he growled, 'Never mind! As I've told you a few times already, I get paid to make soldiers out of you, not to tell you my life story.' He flicked an eyelid in what could have been a wink before he straightened and barked, 'What are you looking at? Get busy rubbing down those horses.' Catching the looks on their faces, he asked, 'You do know how to rub down a horse, don't you?'

'No, commander, we don't.'

'Damnation! This is supposed to be a mounted unit! Are they scraping the bottom of the barrel, or what?' Zaliek jerked a thumb at the men who arrived with him and said, 'Ask them how to do it. They'll show you. Well, what are you waiting for? Don't just stand there with your mouths open. Do something useful.' He looked at them suspiciously and asked, 'Do you know anything at all about horses? Anything at all?'

'No, commander. We know nothing at all!'

'Then you'd better learn fast! Well, move your arses! Get going!'

Zaliek taught them and the rest of the unit how to care for a horse, how to ride it, and how to fight while mounted. He taught them manoeuvres, tactics, and strategies. He also showed them how to look after a horse better than they would look after their own wives and mothers.

Two weeks later, during their lunch break, Gersina asked Sanze, 'Do you like horses?'

'I don't know yet.' Sanze stretched, shifted his position to relieve the ache in his muscles, and said, 'I don't even know whether horses like me.'

Gersina groaned. 'I can't say that I've developed affection for them.' He stood up gingerly, rubbed his backside, and said half humorously and half resentfully, 'Feed them, saddle them, bridle them, sponge them, rub them down, cover them with a blanket, talk to them as if they're your best friends—damn it, man, we're going to spend more time caring for the creatures than we spend looking after ourselves.'

Sanze replied with a straight face, 'Well, it's your own doing.'

'I didn't ask them to assign us to the unit, did I?' Gersina stretched, groaned again, looked at Sanze ruefully, and complained, 'Convenient, eh?'

'Convenient for whom?'

'Convenient for Vaxili, that's who.'

'Well, what did you expect? Did you think he would give you a position at headquarters to show his appreciation of your affectionate concern for his daughter?'' Gersina grunted despondently. Sanze asked, 'Are you still seeing her?' Gersina grunted again. Sanze observed, 'For an intelligent man, you're a damn fool, Gersina!'

Gersina's eyes flashed and he retorted, 'That's my business!'

'All right, have it your way! If you don't want to talk about it—well, then, don't!'

Gersina sat up and rested his chin on his knees. He said slowly, 'I like her.'

'That's not the point.'

'I want her.'

'That's not the point, either.'

'No? What is the point?'

'The point is, if you go on seeing her, you'll have her old man's boot coming down on your neck. And, as I don't need to remind you, her old man is the king. When he brings his boot down, you'll feel it. In fact, you already are feeling it—but just a gentle nudge, right now.'

Gersina said, 'Sanze, I'm telling you, I don't want to lose her.'

'Do you like her enough to risk Vaxili's wrath?' Gersina didn't reply. He just tugged at an ear morosely. Sanze urged, 'Come back to the real world, Gersina. She's not the only fish in the sea. You can trawl your net and catch as many fish as you like any day of the week.'

Gersina said, 'I won't find another one like Mecolo.'

'Oh, that's for sure. You won't find another one whose old man could do you serious if not fatal harm. If you go fishing elsewhere, all that you'll find is a lot of girls with parents who'll think how nice it is that their beloved daughter is seeing such a celebrated, up-and-coming young man like you.'

'I told you, man! I don't want to give her up.'

'Of course, you don't! You like the challenge, don't you? You like the risk. Well, let me remind you that this time you're not engaged in a surprise attack on the Dornites or dealing with a bunch of Usserdite bandits. This time you're completely exposed, out in the open, where every move you make can be seen. You remember Gandonda? You remember what you said, about how Vaxili exposed us to a superior force without sufficient protection? Well, I can tell you that where Mecolo is concerned, you're in an even worse position than we were at Gandonda. At least there you had armour and weapons. Here, you have no protection. Nothing!'

After a while, Gersina said regretfully, 'Maybe you're right.'

'Yes, maybe I am.'

'I'll think about it.'

'You do that, Gersina! Oh, yes, you do that!'

The next full-scale Dornite attack on Berina came about six months after the attack on Asjolorm. Everyone wondered why the Dornites took so long to mobilise. Perhaps they were distracted by their squabbles over appointing a new military commander, perhaps they were arguing about strategies, or perhaps they wanted to prepare an even more powerful force, one that would inflict decisive damage on Berina and its army. Whatever the reason, the delay gave Berina time to prepare for the Dornite onslaught.

One morning, in the middle of drill parade, Sanze and Gersina's unit was ordered to relocate to the south-eastern border. As they headed out of camp, Zaliek rode beside them, bellowing, 'Get your line straight! Sit upright in the saddle!'

As Zaliek drew abreast of him, Sanze asked, 'What's the emergency, commander?'

'Emergency? Who said it was an emergency? Maybe we're going to have a picnic somewhere on the frontier.'

'It doesn't feel like a picnic, commander.'

Zaliek reined in his horse so that it trotted alongside Sanze's and said, 'We'll get our orders when we pass through Thania, but it's my guess that the Dornites are on the move.'

Gersina asked, 'What's our role going to be, commander?'

'Scouting, mostly—that's my guess.' Zaliek shrugged and added, 'Perhaps we'll attacks the Dornite's supply lines. Who knows?' He shrugged again before he grinned sardonically and said, 'Let's hope that they don't want to use you as cavalry in a regular battle. That could be the end of you lot.'

There was an edge to Gersina's voice when he asked, 'Don't you think we're good enough?'

Zaliek looked at Gersina appraisingly and asked, 'What did I say about courage during basic training? Remember?'

Gersina looked away sulkily and pretended to be adjusting his horse's bridle. Zaliek chuckled knowingly and asked, 'Do you remember, Deputy Commander Sanze?'

Sanze replied, 'You said that courage isn't enough. You said that it's enough to get yourself killed but it's not enough to defeat the enemy.'

Zaliek snapped his fingers. 'Exactly! You're a light mounted unit, while the Dornites use heavy cavalry. You aren't equipped to take on heavy cavalry, and you aren't expected to. They'll run over you in a head-to-head encounter.' Zaliek snapped his fingers again and growled, 'You see, Deputy Commander Gersina, it has nothing to do with courage! Are you satisfied?'

Still looking sulky, Gersina replied with something between a grunt and a muffled acknowledgement.

Zaliek leaned over and asked sharply, 'I asked, are you satisfied?'

'Yes, commander! I am satisfied.'

The rain started about half an hour after they left the camp. Although it was just a persistent drizzle weeping morosely from a low sky, ahead of them, to the south, lightning flickered over the hills and the clouds were swollen and molten with grey-black menace. Sanze cursed, adjusted his headgear, put his head down and drew his coat tighter across his chest.

Gersina said, 'Don't curse the weather.'

'Why not? It's damn miserable.'

'If this rain keeps up, it's going to be even worse for the Dornites. Their chariots will be bogged down in the mud and their cavalry won't find it much easier. It will reduce their mobility by half or more.'

Sanze grunted despondently. It was a small consolation amid the discomfort.

The rain was pelting down by the time they rode into Thania. While Zaliek reported to headquarters to receive orders, they dismounted and found shelter wherever they could. The place was in a ferment of activity. Carts and wagons were being loaded with supplies, troops were assembling under full packs, and orderlies were running around with harassed expressions. Gersina looked around, hesitated, and then asked Sanze, 'Will you look after my horse for a while?'

'Where are you going?'

'Just look after my horse. I won't be long.'

'Don't be a fool, man. If you're not here when Zaliek gets back—'

'I won't be more than a few minutes!' Gersina headed away from Sanze at a fast jog.

Sanze called after him, 'You won't find her, man! You haven't got the time.'

Gersina didn't give any indication that he heard him. Sanze stood there holding his horse's reins, cursing him for being such a pig-headed fool.

Zaliek returned within a few minutes and ordered them to mount. When he saw the empty saddle, he bellowed, 'Where is Gersina?'

Sanze replied, 'He'll be back right away, commander.'

'I didn't ask when he'd be back! I asked where he is.'

Sanze said, truthfully, 'I don't know, commander.'

Someone said with a snigger, 'Perhaps he's gone to answer a call of nature.'

Zaliek looked around grimly and said, 'It depends on which part of his nature is calling, eh?'

Just then Gersina appeared at a run. Zaliek glared at him and shouted, 'Where did you go to, deputy commander?'

Gersina replied calmly, 'I was just getting some exercise, commander.'

Zaliek shouted, 'In future, you stay with your unit until I give you orders to disband. Understand?'

'Yes, commander!'

The squad headed southward out of Thania. After a few minutes, Sanze asked quietly, 'Did you find her?' Gersina shook his head. Sanze continued, 'It's just as well that you didn't.' Gersina grunted and Sanze added, 'You need to focus on what's waiting for us. Forget about Mecolo. Your life could depend on it—not to mention the rest of us, as well.'

Gersina shot him a quick look and pursed his lips before he muttered truculently, 'Don't lecture me, man! It's all right for you. You don't have—' He stopped and looked away.

Sanze restrained his annoyance and responded, 'I don't want you to get injured or killed, Gersina.' Gersina still said nothing. Sanze continued, 'It's a damned nuisance, dealing with injured comrades. Do you think that I want to haul your body off the battlefield when I should be fighting the Dornites? My advice is that you should focus on what you have to do and forget about everything else.'

By way of response, Gersina just grunted and looked sulky.

That night, they camped at their old base on the escarpment just north of Gandonda. They were grateful to have warmth and shelter, and relieved to be able to stretch their stiff limbs. Gusts and squalls propelled the rain so fiercely that it felt like icy arrowheads. The members of the unit laid out their cloaks to dry—not that there was much chance of that happening—and settled down to munch at their field rations. When Zaliek appeared, his eyes flickered with amusement when he saw them glumly munching on their rations. He said, 'Not like the soft and easy life of camp, is it? Almost like doing something useful with your lives, eh?' Then he barked, 'Gersina and Sanze! I want to see you as soon as you've finished eating.'

'We're coming, commander.'

'Finish your meal first. You'll need it for what's coming.'

A few minutes later, they joined Zaliek, huddling with him in the lee of one of the huts, pulling their greatcoats tight against the rain and swirling wind. Zaliek got straight to the point, saying 'The Dornites are on the move down there.' He nodded eastward towards the coastal plain.

Gersina asked, 'Are they in full force, commander?'

Zaliek nodded. 'The scouts say it looks like they have a bigger force than they had at Gandonda.'

Sanze asked, 'What's our role, commander?'

'Eager to get into action, eh? Don't you ever lose your appetite for gobbling up Dornites?'

'Not while I'm serving Berina, commander.'

Zaliek chuckled. 'If Berina had a few more like you, the Dornites would have been driven into the sea by now.' Then he said sombrely, 'This is where I leave you. You're on your own from now on.' Zaliek jerked his thumb towards the escarpment and the rain-veiled plains beyond it. He said, 'Your orders are to harass the Dornite supply lines. You'll divide the unit into two sections. Each of you will command one of the sections. Liaise with one another and try never to operate separately. After three days, you will link up with the army. Any questions?'

Sanze's blood raced faster. He would be commanding his own unit for the second time. He had a score of questions to ask, but he suspected that Zaliek wouldn't be able to answer them. The simple fact was that they were on their own from now on.

They led their units out at first light. The air was moist and heavy, the clouds were low, and the ground was sodden—but at least it had stopped raining. Their plan was to make their way over the escarpment following the path that they used on their approach to Asjolorm. After that, they would turn south towards the main highway, on the assumption that the Dornite army was somewhere near the pass at Gandonda.

Just after they linked up with the highway, at about mid-morning they intercepted a Dornite trader who was on his way to the coast. He was an elderly man with a large paunch, a bald head, and a squint, wearing a cloak and a tunic made of material that was so coarse that it felt like the sacking that Sanze's father used as wrapping for his bales. When they hauled him off his donkey, the pathetic fellow pissed so much in fright so that the disgusting yellow liquid ran down his legs, steaming in the cold air. They searched his packs but found nothing of any significance. Privately, Sanze pitied the fellow for his poverty and pathetic appearance. Then Sanze shrugged the thought aside—this was war, not a sociable meeting—and ordered his men to interrogate the trader. A knife held to the man's throat elicited the information that late the previous evening, he passed a large Dornite detachment heading for the pass.

To extract more information, they blindfolded the fellow and knocked him around a bit, making a game of it by forming a circle and shoving the trader in all directions so that he never knew who would push him next or in which direction he would stumble. Then, when the trader dropped to the ground, snivelling and exhausted, they threatened to torture him if he didn't tell them everything that he knew. At that, the pathetic creature sobbed and clung to Sanze's legs so tightly that he had to be prised loose and dragged away, while Sanze looked at him in distaste. To get him to talk some more, some of the men held the old man down, pulled up his tunic, and pressed a knife against his genitals. Although the trader writhed, wailed, and screamed, even in the extreme of his terror he could only repeat what he had already said.

It was clear that he had nothing more to offer so they decided to let him go. However, Gersina pointed out that the man should be prevented from carrying information to the Dornite army, just in case that was in his mind. When they killed his donkey, the man cried out and kneeled next to the dead beast, weeping and rocking up and down so that his head hit the ground with a soft thud with each forward movement. At that point, Gersina had second thoughts and wanted to kill the fellow but Sanze couldn't see the sense in it. Truly, he was sick and tired of slaughtering pathetic creatures. Instead of saying that to Gersina, he told him that killing a helpless civilian would demoralise their men. Gersina muttered 'Maybe you're right' and ordered two men to get rid of the fellow. They lashed him to one of their spare horses and rode off with him, to release him far away from the highway. As the trader disappeared into the mist with his escort, he was bent forward over the horse's neck, shoulders hunched, like a condemned man going to his death. Probably he thought that he was going to his death; he was too frightened to understand that they were giving him his freedom.

At midday the squad split up. Gersina's section went south of the highway and Sanze's section went north. It was a miserable afternoon. The wind gusted off the escarpment, rain battered them in sharp squalls, and the ground was cold and sodden. Nothing moved on the highway. It was as if the world had been cleared of life and only their detachment remained to trudge over its dreary surface.

In the early evening, when the units joined forces again, Sanze said to Gersina, 'We're wasting our time. The Dornites aren't bringing up supplies today.'

Gersina nodded. 'They probably have everything that they need for the moment.'

They huddled together, cold and wet, considering the situation. Gersina said, 'The Dornites probably have enough to last for a few days. After that, they'll bring up fresh supplies and live off the land at the same time.'

'If our army doesn't stop them.'

Gersina said grimly, 'Yes, if our army doesn't stop them.' He stamped his feet vigorously and cursed. 'By Zabrazal, this is miserable! We have no action, and we have freezing weather on top of it.'

'We need to find the Dornites or link up with our own forces.'

Gersina muttered, 'I can tell you where the Dornites are—somewhere up there.' He pointed towards the pass and the escarpment.

'Well, then, let's go and find them. We're not doing any good, hanging around here.'

They spent a miserable night in the open, huddled together and sheltering under trees and bushes, Early next morning they moved eastwards, parallel with the highway. It was slow going, keeping an eye on the road, sending out scouts, waiting for their reports, and then moving forward cautiously over the rough, sodden ground. Finally, at mid-afternoon, one of their scouts reported that he had located the Dornite army.

Sanze and Gersina rode forward; just before sunset they found the enemy camped in a valley to the south of the highway. They crept up to the top of a ridge, cursing under their breaths as they elbowed through mud and over stony ground. Worming their ways to the edge, they looked into the valley. Gersina gave a low whistle and whispered, 'It's them all right.'

'It's a bigger force than last time, I reckon.'

'It sure looks like it.'

As the light faded, they studied the position. Gersina said, 'They're supremely confident. They don't even have scouts on this side to cover their rear.'

Sanze replied grimly, 'Based on their last performance, they have reason to be confident.'

Gersina responded, 'Let's hope that our commanders have come up with something new. Our army won't survive another defeat like the last one.'

Sanze grunted in agreement.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: THE SWING OF THE PENDULUM

Sanze and Gersina had only fifty men. Although they were unobserved and within striking distance of the Dornite camp, their force was too small to carry out a decisive action.

Shivering and damp, Sanze and Gersina lay on the ridge while night fell and the Dornites lit fires and prepared their meals. As they peered into the valley and considered various possibilities, Sanze suddenly had an idea. He nudged Gersina and whispered, 'The supply wagons!'

Gersina said, 'That's a possibility!'

All the wagons were standing on the southern side of the camp, with their contents covered by oilskins. Sanze said, 'The contents will be dry. If we can get fire into the wagons, under the oilskins...'

That's what they did. At about midnight, their men silenced the guards nearest to the wagons. After that, it was easy to lift smouldering logs from the nearest fire, put them into the wagons, and then retire quietly. The outcome was satisfactory. Although the Dornites managed to extinguish the blazes in some of the wagons, about twenty burned out completely. In addition, there was an unexpected bonus when containers of oil exploded, setting fire to several tents.

The squad retired southward, leaving scouts to observe the camp. While their men sheltered under rock overhangs, Sanze and Gersina planned their next move. It was clear that they only had two options—either to try to disrupt the Dornite supply lines, if there was anything to disrupt, or to link up with their army. What to do? They sat in glum silence for a while, hugging their knees to protect themselves from the cold. After a while, Gersina said, 'I wish I knew what the Dornites were going to do next.'

Sanze nodded. It was a waiting game. He said, 'We don't know where our army is except that they're somewhere up ahead. We might as well stay here and exploit any opening that the Dornites give us.'

Gersina grunted in agreement.

It was a cold, wet, uncomfortable, and apprehensive night.

Just after sunrise, the scouts reported that the Dornites were moving forward in battle order. Sanze wanted to get going immediately, but Gersina put a restraining hand on his arm, saying, 'Hold it, Sanze. Not so fast.'

'Hold it? Why? You don't want to hang around here, do you?'

Gersina replied quietly, 'How many men do we have?'

'You know the answer: fifty-two, counting us.'

'Fifty-two men won't make much difference.'

'Maybe not! But we can't just hang around here. We have to do something useful.'

Gersina said, 'Then let's use our men to the best advantage.'

'How?'

'Let's not commit ourselves too early. We'll strike at the Dornites when we can have maximum effect.'

Moving parallel with the Dornites, but under cover behind the ridge, they were well positioned above the battlefield. The Dornite army was directly below them and their own army was about one thousand paces to their right, moving forward at walking pace. The Dornites responded by moving their chariots into the centre of their line while their cavalry took up a position in the rear.

Gersina whispered, 'The ground is so wet it's practically a swamp. Their cavalry and chariots aren't going to be effective in these conditions.'

Sanze muttered in return, 'What about us? We're also mounted.'

Gersina nodded thoughtfully and replied, 'We'd better stick to the hillsides. That way we'll be more mobile.'

As Sanze watched the scene below, his mouth went dry and his stomach muscles tightened. He muttered, 'This waiting and watching is worse than actually being there.'

Gersina grunted in agreement. Lying shoulder to shoulder with him, Sanze could feel that Gersina was quivering like a great cat that has stalked its prey and now waits for just the right opportunity, the moment of its victim's greatest weakness, to pounce. Gersina's tongue was flickering over his lips and the flecks in his eyes were gleaming as he gazed intently at the scene below. Sanze put an arm around his shoulders and whispered, 'Hold steady, Gersina.'

Gersina looked at him with veiled eyes. Then he blinked as if he was refocusing on matters nearer to hand, shook his head vigorously, and muttered, 'No problem! I'm all right.'

Sanze held him firmly across his shoulders while the tension eased out of him and the quivering subsided. After about a minute, Gersina looked at him and muttered, 'I just want to get at them, that's all.'

The army of Berina continued to advance. About six hundred paces separated them from the Dornites. Then it was five hundred. Then it was four hundred. Through gritted teeth, Gersina groaned, 'What the hell are they doing? They're just advancing in line abreast. The Dornites will find a weak point in the line and that will be the end of them, just like the last time.'

Sanze could only nod in agreement and grit his teeth. It was like watching a dramatic performance based on a well-known story in which the audience knows the tragic outcome but can't do anything to change the course of events. What made it worse for him was the knowledge that his brother, Abozi, was down there somewhere and could well be a victim of the same ham-headed tactics that led to disaster at the first battle of Gandonda.

Suddenly, shouted commands reached their ears through the heavy air. Gersina gripped Sanze's arm and asked in excitement, 'Do you see that?'

Sanze saw it, too. The unit in the centre re-formed into a square formation and lances swung into the air. During their advance, the men had trailed the lances behind them, out of sight. Now, in an instant, the unit bristled with sharp-pointed menace.

Gersina said, 'By Zabrazal, they're going to form a wall!'

Sanze didn't reply. The scene below transfixed him. It was as if the script of a well-known drama had changed abruptly in mid-act. In an instant, the plot was new and unpredictable. What had been discussed between him, Gersina and Kainar on the heights above Asjolorm, sketched roughly in the dust, and later outlined during their interview with Vaxili, now became a three-dimensional scene enacted by live players.

The square moved forward at a slow walk while the wings advanced slightly ahead of it. Now there was confusion in the Dornite army. Officers scuttled around behind the ranks and the cavalry withdrew. After another series of commands, the Dornite centre opened to let the chariots through.

Gersina gripped Sanze's arm and said in elation, 'The chariots! They're playing into our hands!'

Sanze muttered in tense excitement, 'We've got them this time!'

The chariots moved sluggishly in the mud, trying to look for an opening while the bristling square moved onto them at an inexorable pace. When the two forces clashed, it was a disaster for the Dornites. The long lances skewered the horses and the drivers, who tried to turn their vehicles to flee but were either stuck in the mud or collided with other chariots. Then skirmishers moved in to finish off any Dornites who didn't flee back to their own ranks. It was a slaughter.

Without pausing, the square moved forward at the same pace, opening to bypass the derelict chariots and the dead and wounded horses. Then it closed ranks again as it approached the Dornite army. A solid, bristling monolith was advancing on the Dornite ranks.

Sanze whispered urgently, 'We should be down there, man. There's work to do.'

Gersina licked his lips and shook his head, saying, 'Not yet, my friend, not yet. Our time will come.' He glanced behind them and said, 'But it's time for our men to prepare for action.' With his eyes fixed on the battlefield, Gersina muttered, 'Tell them to keep out of sight. When they hit the Dornites, they're going to hit them hard.'

Sanze got to his feet, turned to go, and then on a sudden thought said, 'Perhaps we should ask Zabrazal to bless our venture.'

'And if Zabrazal declines to bless us? Will we allow the Dornites to escape while we wait on Zabrazal's favour? Is that how we will serve Berina?'

Sanze ordered the men to move to a position just behind the ridge. When he re-joined Gersina, the square was still moving onto and through the Dornite ranks at the same inexorable pace. The Dornites had no answer to this new tactic. First, they made a frontal attack, only to find that they couldn't penetrate the porcupine-like wall. Their leading ranks perished while the press of the men behind added fresh victims to the carnage. Their ranks wavered and fell back. A bugle sounded and, right below them, the Dornite cavalry moved around their enemy's right flank.

Gersina said triumphantly, 'The last throw of the dice!'

Sanze's pulse was racing and he wasn't even aware that he was beating his fists against the rock in exhilaration. He was about to see something for which he had longed ever since he was a boy—the rout of a Dornite army. He shouted, 'We should move now!'

Gersina grunted, 'Not yet. Wait until the square has finished its work.'

Struggling through the mud, the Dornite cavalry advanced towards the side of the square. The result was the same as it had been with the chariots: horses were skewered and tumbled to the ground leaving the riders exposed to the points of the lances. The survivors turned and retreated up the lower slope of the hillside towards their position.

Sanze said, 'Now! We have them!'

Gersina shouted, 'Let's go!'

Their men swept over the ridge and smashed into the Dornite cavalry from behind. Attacked from front and rear, hemmed in by the lances and by the hillside, hampered by the soft ground and by their own weight, hardly a cavalryman escaped. As their forces completed the slaughter, Sanze joined Gersina a little higher on the hillside. Gersina grinned at him broadly and shouted, 'We have them!'

Sanze pointed to the Dornite ranks and shouted back, 'We haven't finished them off yet.'

'They won't last long. They can't handle the square.'

They watched as the square moved forward, at the same time opening at the rear to admit the men who had attacked the cavalry. A bugle sounded and the square opened, forming a long line of advance, three men deep. A bugle sounded again, and the ranks broke into a quick trot, going as fast they could under the weight of armour and lances while maintaining unbroken lines. The Dornites fell back in confusion, breaking their line as the men in front tried to escape.

Sanze shouted, 'They're retreating. They'll get away.'

Gersina shouted back, 'Let's get behind them.'

They led their men along the hillside and then wheeled behind the Dornites. There they got among the nearest stragglers, those who were retreating in advance of their comrades, cutting some of them down and forcing the rest back into their ranks.

Gersina drew alongside Sanze and shouted, 'We don't have enough men to do much damage. The best we can do is to try to slow them down.'

The next move came from their own army, when troops without lances suddenly poured around the sides of the advancing lines, attacking the Dornite flanks. Both sides sensed that this was the crucial phase of the battle. The Dornites held on grimly, like men with their backs to the edge of a cliff, contesting every step as they were pushed backwards. For about ten minutes, the battle swayed as if on an evenly balanced scale. Then the lances of the square broke through the Dornite centre and it was all over. From the Dornite ranks, there arose a collective roar of anguish as if their intestines were being ripped out of their bodies. From the Berinians came a shout of triumph and exhalation accompanied by the deep-throated chant of 'Be-ri-na! Be-ri-na!'

The Dornites wavered, broke, and ran. About half of the Berinian army broke ranks and followed them, cutting down the fugitives, stabbing and spearing those who fell in their path. Sanze and Gersina led their men in the chase. The butchery was as brutal and callous as the killing at Asjolorm, except that now the fugitives were soldiers, not civilians.

However, even at this late stage, the pendulum of battle could have swung one more time. A Dornite leader—probably their supreme commander, judging by the height of the crest on his helmet—rallied some of his men on a hillock near the end of the valley. Within minutes, he welded a bunch of terrified fugitives into a force that held the hillock and then advanced down the slope in reasonably good order, forcing their pursuers to retreat. Soon the pursuers had turned into fugitives. Fortunately, half of the Berinian force remained intact, advancing down the valley without their lances at a quick jog.

Sanze and Gersina withdrew their men while the retreating troops streamed back in retreat. Gersina pointed to the disorderly scene and grunted, 'Thank Zabrazal for Kainar. Without him, we could be lost.'

It was true. Kainar was in control of the half of the army that didn't break ranks and set off in pursuit. They could see him gesticulating to the returning troops, giving directions to the officers, and taking charge of the proceedings. After about ten minutes, the full force had re-assembled. With Kainar in the lead, they set off down the valley at a jog. However, by then the surviving Dornites, about half of the original number, were safe and out of reach. Before long, they would be gone.

It was a great victory. More than half of the Dornite army remained on the battlefield, dead or injured, compared with fewer than one hundred casualties on the Berinian side.

As they rode down to join the army, Gersina growled, 'Damnation, we could have destroyed the Dornites completely if our men had kept their heads. As it is—' He shook his head and cursed.

Sanze replied, 'It's a huge victory. Be satisfied!'

'But it's not what it could have been.'

'Get a sense of perspective, Gersina! This is our first victory over the Dornites.'

'Exactly! That's why we should have finished the job properly.'

'Are you never satisfied? We've killed or captured half of their army. It will be a long time before they recover, if ever.'

Gersina shook his head and grunted in disappointment. He muttered, 'We could have had more.'

Amid cheers and greetings, Sanze and Gersina dismounted and saluted Kainar, who greeted them with a broad smile and fraternal embraces.

As he watched their men dispersing, Sanze drew a deep breath. He felt as if he had climbed a huge step on a long stairway. He had a mental image of himself looking back down the stairway and then looking upward along the route that still lay before them. An inner voice told him that now that he had climbed a few steps, he could handle the rest as well. He drew another deep breath and closed his eyes. As the excitement ebbed and as his blood cooled, suddenly he felt lonely. He was a successful soldier, a deputy commander, celebrated for his achievements, acknowledged by the king himself. Although he was standing on the field of Berina's greatest triumph, amid the wreckage of the Dornite army, surrounded by the chatter and celebrations of soldiers relaxing after their triumph, he felt lonelier than he had ever felt before. He felt hollow, empty, and drained.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: GOOD ADVICE

After the troops disbanded, Sanze rode over to the right flank to find Abozi. To his relief, his brother was safe and well. Like everyone else, Abozi was flushed with the excitement of the victory. They chatted for a while and agreed to meet later.

While he was riding back to the centre of the valley, Sanze began to feel feverish and dizzy. He had a pounding headache and his eyes misted over so that he was viewing the world through an opaque veil. Feeling himself swaying in the saddle, he leaned forward over his horse's neck and allowed it to find its own way back. He must have passed out for a while because the next thing that he remembered was Gersina's voice, asking him if he was all right, while someone supported him in his saddle and called for assistance. After that, he couldn't remember anything at all.

Sanze's fevered delirium lasted for nearly four days. As he learned later, during that time, he was carried back to Thania in a baggage cart together with a load of wounded soldiers and was put to bed in a hut that served as a temporary hospital.

Later, Sanze had a few dazed memories from the time during which he suffered from the fever. Mostly, he remembered images of Dana. He remembered having the same dream that he had after the attack on Asjolorm—the dream that just as he was about to possess Dana sweetly and eagerly, he looked down and saw with horror that she was lying under him with her throat cut. At least twice—probably more often, he couldn't tell—his own shouts and terror awoke him from his delirium. Sweating, flushed, and bewildered Sanze pushed himself up against the wall behind him and gazed dazedly at the crowded hut. In his half-conscious state, the image of Dana was still with him, more real than his actual surroundings. He gripped the sides of the bed and looked around in confusion, as if he expected to see Dana lying next to him or making her way down the aisle between the rows of beds. Then he drifted back into unconsciousness.

Sanze also dreamed about Dana being held by someone. Perhaps it was the Usserdite bandit on the bank of the Great River, or perhaps it was a figure that was conjured up by his dark imagination. The details weren't clear—it was just some blurred shape behind Dana, restraining her as she called out and struggled to come to him. In his dream, he called to her, 'You're safe now, Dana, you're safe. Come to me.' Then suddenly she was free and there was no one behind her. She ran towards him, arms outstretched, with her garments billowing airily about her as if a wind was blowing from under her feet. Sanze ran towards her; but the more he ran, and the more she ran, the more they remained apart. Sanze called out and reached towards her, and she did the same, but they always remained apart until once again he subsided into the dark void of delirium.

Sanze's fever broke on the fourth day. At about mid-morning, he opened his eyes, lifted his head and looked around, sensing that someone was sitting next to him. He glanced sideways and then closed his eyes as pain pounded through his head. The person sitting next to him asked half jocularly, 'Had enough sleep, eh?'

With his eyes closed, Sanze muttered, 'My head hurts.'

The voice said, 'At one point, we thought that we were going to bury you. Now it looks like you'll live to fight another day.'

Still with his eyes closed, Sanze muttered, 'Is that you, Commander Zaliek?'

'It is, indeed. It is Zaliek, your beloved commander.'

Sanze opened his eyes and cautiously squinted towards Zaliek Just as he focused on him, he felt faint. His head dropped back onto the pillow. Zaliek asked gruffly, 'Still not feeling so good, eh?'

After another silence, Sanze managed to mutter, 'How long have I been here?'

'It's four days since the battle. You spent one night in the wagon and three nights here.'

'Have you been here all the time, commander?'

Zaliek snorted. 'Here? All the time? You think that I have nothing better to do than sit next to your bed day and night? Ha! You flatter yourself, Deputy Commander Sanze!'

Sanze propped himself up against the wall and muttered, 'It's good to see you, commander.'

'I was just passing by, so I thought I would drop in and see how things were.' Zaliek waggled a finger at him and said, 'A good commander cares about his men. Remember that.'

'And a good commander never expects his men to do anything that he won't do himself.'

Zaliek gave a short laugh and said, 'Ha! That's true. But nothing will induce me to get into that bed with you.'

The pain in Sanze's head was subsiding, his mind was clearer, and his senses were keener than they were a few minutes earlier. Sanze looked down at the bedclothes, sniffed, and said, 'Oh, man, I stink.'

'You said it, not me.'

'It's disgusting. I've got to get out of here.'

'Stay calm, deputy commander, stay calm. You're not well yet.' Zaliek put a hand on his forehead. His touch was surprisingly light, even tender.

Sanze felt faint again and flopped back onto the pillow. As he did so, he muttered, 'I've got to get out of here.'

Zaliek said, 'I'll get someone to help you.'

After a few minutes, Zaliek came back with an elderly woman who picked her nose and squinted at Sanze with indifference until Zaliek roared at her in frustration, telling her that he would kick her backside if Sanze hadn't been fed and washed by the time he returned. As the woman shuffled away muttering to herself, Zaliek said, 'After she has attended to you, you can sleep for a few hours. I'll call again this afternoon.' Sanze muttered something in reply and Zaliek said quietly, 'There's something that I need to discuss with you.' He looked at Sanze meaningfully as if he wanted to impart a message to him but didn't know how to speak the words. Then, still looking at him in the same way, Zaliek nodded and walked away.

Sanze slept through the middle of the day, and when he awoke in early afternoon, he was ravenous. The woman brought him a bowl of stew, which he wolfed down. She brought him another one and he finished it nearly as quickly. Then he lay back and dropped into a state between sleeping and waking, while his thoughts drifted among a host of impressions and memories. He had distant recollections of a battle field and someone supporting him on his horse. He dreamt of Dana lying back to receive him as her lover. He remembered how, while he suffered from the fever, he woke in pitch darkness, screaming and flaying his arms about. He imagined himself running towards Dana, but never reaching her. Zaliek was talking to him, or so he thought... Finally, he fell into a deep, dark, and dreamless sleep.

Sometime later, Zaliek shook his shoulder to wake him. Sanze mumbled something and tried to turn over and go back to sleep, but Zaliek shook him again, insistently. Sanze rolled onto his back and opened his eyes. Zaliek was leaning over him, his face sombre. He asked, 'How are you?'

'Much better, I think.' Sanze shook his head and propped himself up on his elbows. He said, 'My head doesn't hurt so much.'

Zaliek said, 'Sorry to have to wake you.' He looked toward the door at the end of the room and murmured, 'I have something to discuss with you, confidentially.'

As Sanze stood by the side of his bed getting dressed, Zaliek reached up to the window-sill and handed him something, saying, 'Don't forget this, deputy commander.' It was the belt that Gersina had given him. As Sanze buckled it around his waist and hitched it into a more comfortable position, running his fingers over its patterned surface, he wondered where Gersina was. Surely Gersina would have been one of the first to visit him? He said this to Zaliek, who looked uncomfortable and replied that he would give him some news once they were outside.

As Sanze made his unsteady way down the room, he looked around. By Zabrazal, this was no place to be spending time! Faces gaunt with pain and illness stared at him vacantly. The air was fetid, not only with the stench of wounds and unwashed bodies, but also with an atmosphere of listless hopelessness. It was as if the place had sapped the will, energy, and self-belief of its inhabitants. He muttered to Zaliek, 'I've got to get out of here.'

'You can leave tomorrow, so they say.'

Sanze stepped outside, leaned against the door-post, and breathed deeply. He felt as if a small part of his soul returned to him with every inhalation of fresh air. He said, 'Commander, I'm leaving right now. The only way they'll stop me is if they take me back by force.'

Zaliek looked him up and down and said sympathetically, 'Well, you might as well move out now. I guess it doesn't matter where you sleep tonight, now that you're on the mend.' He cocked a thumb towards the interior of the hut and wrinkled his nose in distaste, saying, 'At least you'll be out of that putrid stink-hole.'

When they sat down on a bench near the door, Zaliek leaned forward and asked in a low voice, 'Do you want the bad news first, or the very bad news?'

'Let's have the bad news first. Maybe I'll be stronger by the time you get to the very bad news.'

'All right, here is the bad news—Kainar isn't the commander of the army any longer.'

'He isn't? Why not?'

Still in a low voice, Zaliek said, 'Kainar has been demoted to the level of a unit commander. It seems that he and the other senior commanders had a disagreement with Vaxili over the tactics to be used in the battle. That's why Kainar was in command while Vaxili stayed behind in Thania.'

'What? Vaxili wasn't in command of the army?'

Zaliek shook his head. 'Like I said, he stayed behind in Thania.'

Sanze whistled. This was news indeed. He asked, 'And now Vaxili has struck back by demoting Kainar?' Zaliek nodded grimly. Sanze asked, 'Who is the new commander?'

'No one. It looks like Vaxili is going to do the job himself.' Sanze began to feel light-headed again and leaned back against the wall. Zaliek looked at him closely before he said, 'We can talk about these things tomorrow, when you're stronger.'

'I'm all right. And the very bad news is...?'

Still speaking in a low voice, Zaliek said, 'It has to do with Gersina and Mecolo.'

'Well, commander, that doesn't surprise me. I've warned Gersina to stop playing around with Mecolo, but he won't listen to me.'

Zaliek smiled tightly. 'This time, Gersina has done a lot more than just play around with Mecolo.'

Sanze groaned. Damn Gersina! Why didn't he do the sensible thing and go fishing in some other part of the sea? Sanze asked, 'What now?'

Zaliek replied in a whispered hiss, 'Gersina has eloped with Mecolo.'

'What? Is he crazy?' The effects of the fever combined with this news made Sanze feel so faint that he could have been knocked over with a fly-whisk. He got a hold of himself and asked, 'When did this happen?'

'The day before yesterday.'

'The day that the army arrived in Thania?'

Zaliek nodded and asked, 'Did you know that Gersina was planning this?'

'No. I had no idea! No idea at all!'

Zaliek said grimly, 'That's not what Vaxili thinks.'

' I had nothing to do with it! On the contrary, I warned Gersina to break off with Mecolo. I warned him plenty of times. I told him that he was playing with fire.'

'Well, Gersina is going to get badly burned. In fact, he'll be lucky to escape with burns. Vaxili will track him down and destroy him.' Zaliek paused and then said bleakly, 'I might have to watch my back as well.'

'You, commander? What have you done?'

'You remember your mission to rescue Mecolo and the others from the Usserdite bandits?' Zaliek cleared his throat and said sympathetically, 'I'm sorry, but I have to refer to it. Well, I have a feeling that Vaxili thinks that I arranged things so that Gersina would have an opportunity to get together with Mecolo.'

'Did you, commander?'

'Don't be a fool, man! I didn't even know that there was anything between them. The adjutant ordered me to select the best men for the purpose, and that's what I did.' Zaliek cleared his throat again and concluded morosely, 'But with someone like Vaxili on the throne...eh?'

Sanze leaned back and thought about the matter. By Zabrazal, it was a mess! Vaxili, jealous of his own commanders, had struck back at them. Gersina and Mecolo were on the run, ablaze with lovers' passions, while her father was after them, ablaze with passion of a different kind. Vaxili suspected that he, Sanze, was involved—in fact, the tentacles of his suspicions even reached as far as Zaliek... Where would he find a path through this wilderness of intrigue and suspicion?

Looking ill at ease, Zaliek said, 'It gets worse. Vaxili has declared Gersina an outlaw.'

'What!? He can't do that!'

'Maybe he can't. But that's what he's done.'

'Only a tribal council can do that—and then there has to be a proper hearing.'

Zaliek said grimly, 'If Vaxili bothered about it, he would probably say that he's above all the tribal councils, so he can exercise all their functions.'

'Without a hearing?' In response, Zaliek just shrugged despondently. Sanze said, 'He can't do this! Even the king isn't above the law.'

Quietly and cautiously, Zaliek replied, 'The fact is, Vaxili feels threatened.'

'Threatened? But, commander, that's ridiculous! He's just won the biggest victory that any Berinian force ever won over the Dornites. How can he feel threatened?'

Zaliek said, 'Remember, it wasn't Vaxili's victory. It was Kainar's victory.'

'But Vaxili is the commander in chief, and—' Zaliek was looking at him so intently that Sanze broke off and asked, 'What's going on, commander?'

Zaliek said, ' Kainar and the senior commanders took over all the planning for the campaign—tactics, strategies, logistics, everything. They excluded Vaxili completely.' Zaliek sat back and looked at him closely. He said, 'You and Gersina helped to move it along.'

'Gersina and me? How?'

'You remember when the two of you met with Vaxili and Kainar—you suggested a strategy for defeating the Dornites?'

'Yes, I remember. In fact, we saw the result just the other day, at the battle.'

Zaliek nodded. 'That's because Kainar liked what you suggested. In fact, he liked it so much that he did what you suggested. But Vaxili didn't like it.'

'What is his problem? After all, he is the king! How can he feel threatened?'

'That's true. But he's never felt secure in the position.' Zaliek pursed his lips. 'For instance, who elected him to be king? Everyone knows that Izebol engineered the whole thing, once he saw that he couldn't refuse the demand for a king. And now Izebol isn't happy with Vaxili. So where is Vaxili's support base? The fact is that he hardly has one at all, except maybe with his own clan. The only way he can build up wider support is by being successful. And what happens in his first battle against the Dornites? Disaster, that's what!'

Sanze said, 'But if Vaxili had any sense, he would—'

Zaliek interrupted him. 'Hold it, deputy commander! Let me finish. If Vaxili was a big man, he would know how to work with strong men, to benefit from their strengths and abilities, and so broaden his support. But unfortunately, Vaxili is not a big man. He is a small man who feels threatened at every turn. For example, let's consider his relationship with you and Gersina. Who gets a measure of victory out of the disaster of defeat by killing Drunuk? You and Gersina do. Who rescues Vaxili's daughter from the Usserdite bandits? You and Gersina do. Who has the idea for the attack on Asjolorm? The same, not so? Who suggests the tactics that win the second battle of Gandonda? The same again.'

'But, damn it, those were his victories as well, not to mention the fact that they were victories for the whole of Berina.'

Zaliek shook his head morosely. 'That's how a big man would see it. But a small man like Vaxili—no, he can't see it that way. He sees them as other people's victories, not his.' Zaliek shook his head again and said, 'And then, on top of all that, who wins the affections of his beloved daughter?'

'Well, commander, at least I'm not guilty on the last count.'

'Ha! Tell that to Vaxili. He thinks that you're in league with Gersina. Anyway, never mind the finer details—you see what I'm getting at, eh?' Zaliek shrugged fatalistically. 'Vaxili is hurting and he is looking for scapegoats.' He looked around cautiously, leaned forward, and said in a low voice, 'The big problem with small men is that they can't give credit to others. What's worse, they end up surrounding themselves with other small men, so that they only hear the arse-licking opinions that suit them.'

They sat there for a while in glum silence, busy with their thoughts. Then Sanze asked, 'Where is Gersina?'

Zaliek gave a short laugh. 'He's with Mecolo somewhere in Lower Berina, I would think.'

Sanze stood up and stretched, trying to get the ache out of his bones. Suddenly he felt faint and sat down in a hurry. He shook his head to clear it, and asked, 'What about me, commander?'

'That's a good question.' Zaliek pulled at an ear and looked at him speculatively. 'You're not on the top of Vaxili's popularity list but you're probably not in any danger. Vaxili wants Gersina, not you. My advice to you is: keep a low profile, recover your strength, and see how the wind is blowing.' Zaliek stood up and said gruffly, 'Look after yourself, deputy commander. You're a good soldier and I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.' He patted Sanze's shoulder, nodded, and left.

Sanze walked into the hut, picked up his bag, and left without anybody noticing. Then he found a bungalow with a spare bed, dumped his kit, washed, and walked over to the mess hall. He was as hungry as he had ever been.

He was halfway through his second plate of food when someone tapped him on his shoulder. Two men wearing light armour were standing there looking at him officiously. One of them said dourly, 'Deputy Commander Sanze, you will come with us.'

Thinking that Zaliek or someone higher had summoned him, Sanze replied, 'Certainly, comrade. Just let me finish my food. Why don't you sit down? I won't be more than a few minutes.'

The man put his hand on Sanze's shoulder, none too gently, and said, 'Our orders are that you are to come with us immediately.'

'What's the hurry, comrades? Surely—?'

'Immediately!' They hauled Sanze to his feet and turned him towards the door. He tried to shrug them off, saying, 'All right, comrades, I don't need your help. I might have been in the sick bay, but I can walk on my own.' They released their grip but still shepherded him towards the door. Sanze asked, 'What's going on?'

One of the men growled, 'We're just following orders.'

The men marched him to the headquarters building where Vaxili's new adjutant was waiting for him in the antechamber. He ignored Sanze's salute and said tersely, 'Deputy Commander Sanze, you are under arrest.'

'What? Under arrest? For what?'

'For colluding with the outlaw, Gersina.'

This took the wind out of Sanze's sails. He didn't know whether to begin by protesting about the matter of collusion—whatever was meant by that—or about the unlawfulness of declaring Gersina an outlaw. As it happened, he didn't get a chance to protest about either matter. The adjutant made a dismissive gesture, as if waving away a troublesome insect, and the two men seized him. They marched him to a building on the outskirts of the town where the guards opened the door and thrust him inside. The door thudded shut and Sanze was left trying to adjust to the turn of events—from mess hall to imprisonment within five minutes—as well as to the gloom inside the building.

A voice asked warily, 'Is that you, Sanze?'

Sanze looked around, trying to see who was speaking. It was so gloomy that he could hardly see the walls let alone any other details. A voice said, 'Greetings, my brother.'

'Abozi! Are you also here?'

'So it seems.'

'What have you done, to be here?'

'Well, brother, it seems that my crime is the same as yours, and the same as all the others here—namely, to be who I am.'

Someone called out irritably, 'We don't mind you having a family reunion, but if you move another step to the right, you'll tramp on my leg. That will annoy me, so I advise you to be careful where you put your feet.'

Sanze backed against the wall and looked around. Now that his eyes were getting accustomed to the gloom, he could make out that there were dark shapes stretched out all over the floor. He asked, 'How many of you are here?'

Someone else called out, 'Forty-three, if no one has escaped or died since the last time we counted.'

'How long have you been here?'

Abozi replied, 'The first four were put in here two days ago. Since then, they've been throwing us in at regular intervals.'

Sanze asked, 'What's the charge?'

Once again, there was cynical laughter from all over the room. Different voices said:

'Charge? No one told us about a charge.'

'We're here at Vaxili's pleasure.'

'Wise up, comrade, his Royal Highness Vaxili doesn't think he has to observe the law. If he takes a dislike to you, it's curtains for you!''

There was a deep silence, gloomier than the dusk itself, before Abozi called out, 'Hey, Anagina, change places with me. That way I can sit next to my brother.'

There was the sound of shuffling, and Sanze felt the weight of a body against his right leg. A hand grasped his knee and Abozi's voice said, 'All right, Sanze, there's room here. You can sit down.'

Below him to his left, a voice said, 'Do it carefully, man. I don't want you sitting on my head.'

Sanze slid down the wall into a sitting position, shifted around to get as comfortable as possible on the earthen floor, and asked, 'So not one of you knows what he's supposed to be guilty of?

There was a deep silence—so deep that he could hear the guards stamping their feet and shuffling against the chill of the evening. After a while, Abozi said, 'Oh, we reckon we know what we're here for. Firstly, we're all from Lower Berina. Secondly, we all have a connection with Gersina.'

'Yes? And—?'

'And nothing!'

'You mean, that's it?'

'Yes. That's it.'

'But so what? Those aren't crimes. There must be something else as well.'

There was more cynical laughter.

Abozi muttered, 'Vaxili! I despise the man. He's not a good enough soldier to defeat the Dornites so he turns on his own men instead.'

Sanze took a deep breath and replied, 'Save your feelings for later when you're free to do something about it. Meanwhile, stay calm. That's the best that you can do under the circumstances.' He remembered Zaliek's injunction: 'Forget about revenge. Forget about resentment. They get in the way of clear thinking.' But now the enemy was their own supreme commander and king.

There was a long period of brooding silence before someone muttered, 'It's going to be cold tonight. They should give us more than one blanket each, the bastards.' His words were answered by a resentful mumble of agreement.

A voice responded, 'We should try to get out of here. Why wait to find out what they intend to do with us? By then, it'll be too late.'

Someone else responded, 'We could probably get through the roof without much trouble. This isn't a proper prison; it's just an old store-room.'

Sanze replied, 'Don't be a fool, man. Where would we go? They'd have us in no time at all.'

Abozi said gloomily, 'I know where I'd go, for sure. I'd go straight home. I've had enough of this damn-fool king and his damn-fool army. You give good service, you risk your life, and what do you get? I'll tell you what—you get this! You get locked up for nothing and treated like a common criminal!' He spat out the last words and followed them with a disgusted, 'Pha!'

Sanze said, 'Presuming you reached home, which is not very likely, they would find you there in no time.'

Someone asked gloomily, 'What do you suggest? Got any plans?'

Sanze responded, 'Give me a chance, man! I've just arrived. But my advice is that no one should try to escape. For all we know, it could provide them with just the excuse that they want.'

Someone asked, 'Excuse for what?'

Sanze replied, 'An excuse to dispose of us.'

The silence that followed merged with the darkness that covered the room.

Abozi asked him quietly, 'Anyway, how are you, brother?'

'I'm fine. I'm a bit weak and wobbly, but I'm going to be all right.'

'I visited you in hospital two days ago. It looked like you were going to die. I got those lazy female attendants to wash you, for what that was worth. Then, before I could go back to see how you were, they grabbed me and threw me into this place.'

'Thank you. I appreciate what you did for me.'

Abozi squeezed Sanze's knee and muttered gruffly, 'Good to see you, brother!' Then he chuckled ironically and said, 'You should be able to get all the rest that you need in here, eh?'

It was only about an hour after sunset and already the chill was beginning to seep into Sanze's limbs. Sanze asked, 'Has anyone got a blanket?'

Someone said, 'Ask Denga. He's got two. Isn't that so, Denga?'

There was a muttered curse before a voice said resentfully, 'All right, here it is. Pass it to Sanze.'

Sanze wrapped the blanket around himself and wriggled his way down the wall, pushing his legs forward to find out how much space he had. The answer was: not much. He had to lie with his legs bent at the knees and with his shoulders hunched. The floor was hard and cold. It was going to be a long, restless, uncomfortable night. Worse still, there were likely to be many more nights like this. His thoughts were as cheerless as the darkness that covered the room.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: THE WASTELAND

Three months later, Sanze stood at the mouth of a cave in the mountains overlooking the desert in the north of Lower Berina. He took a drink from a water flask and laid out his breakfast on a flat rock. Bread, cheese and figs—it wasn't much but, in the words of the proverb, bread and cheese in freedom are much better than a feast in a prison cell. Sanze cut a piece of cheese, laid it on a slice of bread, and sat back to watch the sunlight seep across the plain. As always, he marvelled at how the harsh contours of the wasteland softened with the hues and shades that spread with the rising sun.

When Gersina joined him, Sanze nodded towards the plain and said, 'The desert has two seasons.'

'Yes, my friend, I know—sunrise and sunset.' Gersina grinned at him companionably and said, 'Bread, cheese and figs again. Isn't it time we had a change of menu?'

'How about beefsteak with dumplings, gravy, and fresh vegetables?'

Gersina replied, 'Some new recruits should be arriving today. I hope they'll bring supplies with them.'

'Beefsteak and fresh vegetables?'

'I can't promise that. Maybe they'll only bring some more cheese and bread.' Gersina laid a hand on Sanze's shoulder. 'Enjoy your breakfast, comrade. I'll see you later.'

Two weeks earlier, Sanze and the others had still been prisoners in Thania. Then, without warning, they were hustled out of their cells and were marched northward under heavy guard. Along the way, three more groups of prisoners joined them. They were all soldiers, they had all been imprisoned at about the same time, and they were all from Lower Berina. Eventually there were more than five hundred men in the column.

At mid-day on the second day, they arrived at a small town close to the southernmost part of Lower Berina. There they were herded into the town square and ordered to sit down. Soon, a messenger arrived from the south and a detachment of guards moved to the northern edge of the square. Then, suddenly, Gersina appeared, surrounded by armed men. The prisoners set up a shout, greeting Gersina, asking questions, voicing complaints, among a hubbub of noise. Gersina waved at them, as if telling them to be patient. He talked to the commander of the guard, nodded, and then gestured to the lane behind him. Mecolo appeared, riding a horse and dressed in a travelling cape and a flowing gown.

The guards freed a group of about thirty prisoners, separating them from the rest and driving them down the lane behind Gersina. Soon the same men returned, carrying arms, to stand at Gersina's side. Gersina nodded to Mecolo, who shook her head vehemently and drew away from him. He took hold of her horse's rein and talked to her quietly, while she continued to protest. Finally, she yielded to Gersina's persuasion and, with Mecolo still looking reluctant and taut-faced, they trotted forward to meet the commander of the guard. He took the reins and led Mecolo around the side of the square and out of sight.

After a few minutes, someone shouted an order and the guards withdrew. Gersina shouted, 'Comrades, you are free! You can go home!'

Once the excitement died down and they were on their way home, Gersina brought them up to date on events. After he and Mecolo eloped from Thania, they tried to live together in a hamlet near Osicedi. This arrangement didn't last for long because when it was known that a detachment of soldiers was on its way to capture Gersina and Mecolo, the elders requested them to move on. Although the elders didn't like the fact that Vaxili had outlawed Gersina and they didn't like the vendetta against soldiers from Lower Berina, they also didn't want to provoke royal anger.

Gersina and Mecolo fled over the border to seek refuge with Durgenu, the ruler of a Dornite city-state that had good relations with several towns in Lower Berina. Durgenu maintained an independent position; he stayed out of the Dornite military alliance and had good relations with Berina. When Vaxili demanded that Durgenu should hand over Mecolo, Durgenu just laughed and asked whether Vaxili thought that he, Durgenu, was a vassal of Berina. Vaxili then changed tack and sent messengers to negotiate directly with Gersina, using his prisoners as a bargaining chip. Finally, an agreement was reached: Mecolo would be returned to her father if Vaxili released all his prisoners. The result was that the prisoners were on their way home as free men while a reluctant Mecolo was being returned to her father.

While Gersina was telling Sanze the story of how he made a deal with Vaxili and why he felt compelled to do so, his face looked as if it was covered by a thundercloud. Gersina concluded by crying in an agonised voice, 'She's carrying our child.' What could Sanze say? He laid a hand on Gersina's arm, while Gersina said bitterly, 'I will never forgive Vaxili for this! Never!'

Within a few weeks, Gersina had even more cause to be bitter. Vaxili announced that Mecolo's marriage to Gersina had been dissolved and that Mecolo was going marry someone called Thuxto. In so doing, Vaxili piled insult upon insult. Firstly, Vaxili had no right to annul a marriage. Only the high priest could do that. Secondly, Thuxto was a non-entity; he was an elderly widower who was a butler in the royal household.

Abozi joined them and observed grimly, 'Vaxili won't leave us alone, comrades. We will be hunted like outlaws in our own land.'

Gersina said quietly, 'You're right, comrade. Vaxili will never leave us in peace. We will have to defend ourselves.' He nodded grimly and continued, 'The kingdom is dead. Vaxili has killed it.'

Abozi cursed and said, 'Whatever the future holds, one thing is for sure: I'm not going back into one of Vaxili's prison cells. I will die before I allow that to happen.'

Gersina burst out, 'Damn Vaxili! He could have had the whole of Berina behind him. Now it's worse than it was before. Damn him!'

Sanze said, 'He's a small man'

'Then curse him for taking on a task that he can't handle!'

Before the former prisoners dispersed to their home towns, Gersina addressed them as a group. He told them that Vaxili would never leave them in peace and invited them to join him in the mountains of the wilderness, where they could defend themselves. It was a radical suggestion, and it produced a divided response: some of the men, those who saw the lie of the land, responded eagerly, while others, who made the mistake of thinking that they would be allowed to live in peace, were reluctant to do so.

Soon after they reached Osicedi, the town elders asked Sanze, Gersina, and Abozi to meet with them. It was a sombre gathering. In the first place, the elders were enraged at the fact that Vaxili had insulted Lower Berina by imprisoning so many of its sons. They all agreed that Vaxili had destroyed the dream of the Kingdom of Berina. Furthermore, they agreed that Vaxili would soon be hunting for his former prisoners. Everyone at the meeting knew what had to be done, namely that the former prisoners had to leave Osicedi as soon as possible.

Next day, before Sanze, Gersina, and the others left town, one of the elders quietly gave them a wallet. He said, 'Sons, don't let anyone know who gave this to you and don't ask where it comes from. It's better that no one should know.' They didn't have to be told that the money came from the town treasury.

As soon as they found a base in the mountains, they used the money to buy arms from Durgenu. At first, the outlaw band consisted of only about twenty-five men, all from Osicedi. However, during the days that followed their numbers swelled as former prisoners streamed in from towns all over Lower Berina. The elders' councils had been talking to each other and most of them agreed that their towns would be targets for Vaxili's vengeance if they harboured his former prisoners. The councils that shrugged off the threat, thinking that the danger was exaggerated, soon regretted their naivety when Vaxili's men began raiding the towns and villages of Lower Berina.

A few days later, when a messenger from Vaxili arrived in Osicedi, demanding that Sanze and Gersina should be handed over, the elders could say truthfully that they didn't know where they were. To this rebuff, the messenger replied ominously that they would soon be hearing from Vaxili. Five days later, a detachment of Vaxili's troops arrived in Osicedi. They set up a cordon around the town and began a house-to-house search. When they found no one, they assembled all the inhabitants in the town square and demanded to know where the former prisoners were, and Gersina in particular. Finding that no one would give them any information, they dragged Gersina's father into the town square and stripped him naked. This was an insult so terrible that it was almost unimaginable. However, Vaxili's men weren't content with that. With sword points pressed into the old man's back, they ordered him to stand motionless facing his fellow townspeople. Then they ordered everyone—every man, woman and child—to walk past him and to spit at his genitals. When Gersina's mother and brothers refused, they seized Gersina's youngest brother and threatened to pull out his fingernails at the rate of one fingernail for every refusal. When the family again refused, the soldiers pulled out the first fingernail. Gersina's mother rushed at the nearest soldier with such force and passion that the man's sword passed right through her body. Mercifully, she died instantly. Gersina's father collapsed in a coma, striking his head on the cobblestones as he fell. Two days later, he died without regaining consciousness.

When he heard the news, Gersina nearly went berserk. His grief was so acute that Sanze had to hold him down to prevent him from dashing his forehead against a rock. Later, when Gersina calmed down a little, more from nervous exhaustion than from any other cause, Sanze made him walk with him in the desert, which was silver and luminous under the full moon. Zaliek's words kept running through Sanze's head: 'Forget about revenge. Forget about resentment. They get in the way of clear thinking.' However, he couldn't speak those words to Gersina. True as the words were, profound as they were, they were small and hopeless when set against what Gersina was suffering. So, they just walked and walked, their boots crunching in the soft gravel, their shapes tiny against the darkly mercurial expanse of the wasteland.

After a long time, somewhere far out on the plain Gersina turned to Sanze and cried, 'I cannot take it any longer.' He hurled himself onto the ground and, lying on his back, thrashed like a man with a convulsive fever. Sanze threw himself across Gersina's chest, partly because he feared that Gersina would injure himself, and partly because he was terrified of the passion that drove Gersina's thrashing, writhing form. Sanze pressed down onto Gersina, saying urgent things to him—soothing words, comforting words, words of dumb and hopeless consolation—while Gersina howled and convulsed under him.

Much later, they headed back towards their base. Stumbling like a man recovering from a fever, Gersina asked weakly, 'Sanze, Sanze, what is to be done?'

Sanze replied with more confidence than he felt, 'We have to pick ourselves up, consolidate, and then start climbing again.'

'Climb? You think so? Climb? I don't have the heart to do anything at all.' Gersina stopped and sat down with his legs crossed, his arms folded across his chest, and his head drooping. Rocking backwards and forwards, he cried out, 'I want to die! I want to die right here! Leave me, Sanze. I can't go on.'

Sanze kneeled next to him and, with his arms around Gersina's shoulders, tried to comfort and soothe him. Sanze spoke about having courage, about how all things pass, even the most terrible and vile atrocities, and about how they would be victorious if only they could pass this test. While Sanze was murmuring these inadequate words, Gersina began to sob. Sanze took him in his arms and held him with his head pressed to his chest, murmuring more helpless words. Gradually Gersina's cries subsided and, as he leaned back on his elbows, he looked at Sanze, his face taut and wretched, tears glinting in the moonlight. Gersina said in a strangled voice, 'It's all gone, Sanze. It's gone. It's gone.'

'Have courage, Gersina.'

'My parents are dead! The kingdom is dead! Mecolo and our child have been taken from me! We are hunted like animals!' Gersina cried out again, 'It's all gone, Sanze.'

'Courage, Gersina, courage.'

'Courage! I can't even face tomorrow. I would rather die. Courage, you say?' Gersina lay back, outstretched on the ground, while Sanze hunched next to him, guarding against any desperate move that Gersina might make. Gradually Gersina's breathing became easier and more regular, and Sanze thought that he had fallen asleep. However, after about ten minutes Gersina asked in a tight but steady voice, 'Dana said that the clouds ask the questions, didn't she?'

'Yes, she did.'

'Do you see any clouds up there?' Sanze shook his head. Gersina said shakily, 'We'll have to ask the questions ourselves, won't we?' He sat up with his arms around his legs and his chin resting on his knee. He asked, 'What are the questions, Sanze?'

Sanze said, 'That's easy, Gersina.'

'Is it? Tell me?'

'There's only one question that concerns us right now.'

'What is it?'

'It's simple: the question is, how do we survive? In time, there might be other questions, but right now there's only one.'

Gersina muttered, 'You'll have to answer the question for me, Sanze. I'm useless. Do you hear me? I'm useless! I'm useless, I say—useless!'

When they got back to their base just before dawn, Sanze took over command while Gersina slept all that day and half of the next. After that, Gersina was alert and refreshed and, as he resumed his daily duties, it looked as if he had weathered the crisis. However, the corners of his mouth were tight and there was a sharp wariness in his eyes that never left him for the rest of his life. Also, those who knew Gersina well, like Sanze, could see that something had died in him, while something new—something harder, heavier, and blunter—had emerged from the crisis. Sanze noticed something else, as well: Gersina had shut the door on the events of that night under the desert sky. Shut the door? It would be more correct to say that he had obliterated them. He never again referred to his desperate despair, and in all the time that Sanze knew him after that, Gersina never again mentioned his parents.

By now, as the incursions and violations by Vaxili's troops continued, Lower Berina was in an uproar. Vaxili responded by establishing garrisons in the major towns of the region. To do so, he had to increase the size of his army. This increased his expenses, so he levied an additional tax on Lower Berina. He called it a Home Security Tax, saying that the inhabitants of Lower Berina would appreciate the fact that they were being provided with better protection against the bandits and desperadoes who had evaded royal justice. As resentment and opposition increased throughout Lower Berina, so did the 'outlaw' numbers. Within a month, Sanze and Gersina commanded a force of five hundred men. Most of them were former soldiers, either former prisoners or men who fled from the army to escape Vaxili's vendetta.

Secure in their base in the mountains, they harassed Vaxili's forces' supply lines and launched attacks on garrisons and outposts. They had the advantage and they enjoyed success. Their men moved easily and openly through a friendly countryside gathering supplies and information wherever they went, while Vaxili's forces were isolated in a sea of increasing hostility.

Gersina took the moral high ground right from the start when he ordered that captives should not be harmed. Instead, he ordered that they should be disarmed, escorted to the border with Upper Berina, and set free. Many of their men, enraged at what they and their families had suffered, vehemently disagreed with this practice. However, Gersina refused to rescind the order. He explained, firstly, that Vaxili's soldiers were compatriots who were also victims of Vaxili's weaknesses and phobias. Secondly, the practice would encourage their adversaries to surrender more quickly, rather than to continue fighting out of sheer desperation. Finally, leniency on their side would result in the occupying forces treating civilians less harshly.

After one meeting at which Gersina patiently explained the policy to a group of disgruntled men, Abozi rubbed his chin and said to Sanze quietly, 'But there's more to it than that, isn't there, comrade brother?'

'You think so?'

Abozi murmured, 'One day the kingdom might be re-united, don't you think?'

'That would be desirable.'

'And might Gersina be involved when that day comes?'

Sanze replied, 'Well, that would be a step-up for Gersina, wouldn't it?'

Abozi scratched his nose thoughtfully and, looking at Sanze keenly, replied, 'And a step-up for some others too, no doubt.' Then, even-voiced, he continued, 'If that happened, then a reputation for leniency would count in Gersina's favour, wouldn't it?'

'No doubt it would.' Sanze put a hand on Abozi's shoulder and said, 'Why, brother, who knows what the future might bring?'

Abozi replied, 'Indeed, who knows?'

After Vaxili's troops heard that they would be treated leniently if they surrendered, they turned themselves over to the rebels in droves. Most of them didn't have the stomach for the occupation and were only too pleased to be returned to Upper Berina safe and free. They surrendered at such a rate that within two months, Sanze and Gersina had cleared away most of the garrisons and outposts in the north.

Of course, Vaxili couldn't stand by idly while he lost ground hand over fist in Lower Berina. He countered by announcing that soldiers who surrendered would be court-martialled, and he was as good as his word. Within a few days, fifty returning soldiers were court-martialled and were sentenced to be indentured for twenty years to the King of Kitilat, where they would serve in the royal salt mines. After that, the rebels met fiercer resistance. However, Vaxili's oppressive tactic also worked against him, because many soldiers, particularly those who did not come from Vaxili's home region, chose to surrender and join the rebel force.

Only one prisoner of war was not treated leniently. One day, a detachment arrived with a captured unit commander whose men, when ambushed near Osicedi, laid down their arms without even token resistance. Only their commander offered resistance; he was wounded twice before he was overpowered.

Pushing and shoving their captive, the men brought him before Gersina. The squad leader said grimly, 'Ask this bastard what he did to your mother and father!'

Gersina's eyes narrowed and the flecks in his eyes glowed like coals. He asked the captive, 'Is this true?'

The captive knew what was coming to him. He writhed on the ground, begging for mercy and forgiveness. It was pathetic, but there was less sympathy for him than for a sacrificial fowl or goat. In fact, a lot less. He had committed a blood crime and he was already as good as dead.

Gersina's eyes narrowed as he said, 'We will not be lenient with him. Punish him as the law prescribes.'

Someone shouted, 'No, commander. First let him suffer as your mother and father suffered. After that, the law can take its course.'

Gersina lifted the man's chin with the toe of his boot. While the man continued to cry out for mercy, Gersina looked down at him contemptuously, shook his head, and growled, 'As the law requires! No more and no less! Take him away.' He shrugged and kept looking at the man with hard eyes.

While the men dragged the captive away, Gersina called after them, 'What the law requires, and only that! We are not savages. You hear me?'

When the men came back without their captive, they were sombre and subdued. No one spoke about the matter. They had done as the law required. Probably they had done more.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE FUTURE KING

When Vaxili finally did march northward, he came with an army of almost two thousand men. He re-established the garrisons that had been eliminated, and then began to move towards the rebel base in the mountains. Along the way, out of pure vindictiveness, he sacked Osicedi. Fortunately, most of the townspeople got away before the attack and sought refuge with the rebels. However, even as Sanze and Gersina welcomed their friends and family members, they sighed inwardly at the thought that now they not only had to contend with a superior force but also had to deal with destitute refugees.

What was to be done? They couldn't feed the refugees properly, they couldn't take them with them when they engaged the enemy, and they couldn't abandon them. Finally, they applied to Durgenu for assistance. Ever the obliging businessman, Durgenu agreed to a deal by which he would care for the refugees for six months, while deferring payment for two years at an agreed rate of interest.

Sanze and Abozi suffered a personal misfortune when their father died during the trek from Osicedi to the mountains. After leaving the town, their father lingered on a hillside, and only turned his back on Osicedi after he saw their house, workshop, and warehouse going up in flames. Then their parents turned and trudged along in the wake of the rest of the refugees with their father going at an ever-slower pace until finally, in the heat of mid-afternoon, he sat down under a tree complaining that he was feeling tired. While their mother was reaching into a pack for some food, she heard a loud sigh. She turned around and saw that the old man had toppled onto the ground. She tried to pull him back into a sitting position, but he just sighed once more, very faintly, and then died.

Their mother was strangely calm while she was telling them the story. She concluded by saying reflectively, 'It is the way of the world. Husbands usually go before wives, and parents usually go before children. I will always mourn for your father and my life will never be the same again; but I will have the consolation of memory.'

Abozi said fiercely, 'You would have had a longer life together if it wasn't for Vaxili.'

Their mother was still very calm. She said, 'Be thankful that your father is at peace now. Vaxili must live with the consequences of his actions. Pity him, that he has travelled so far into the wilderness of his own making that it is unlikely that he can ever turn back to find a place of peace.'

Abozi was still incensed. He said, 'We will see to it that he never escapes from this wilderness, either. We will make it his graveyard.'

Their mother drew Abozi to her and held his head against her breast as if he was a child again. She said, 'Leave it to Zabrazal to punish Vaxili. Free your heart of vengeance or you will be as desolate as Vaxili.' She patted his head, like the child he once was, and said, 'I can bear the loss because your father and I were coming to the end of our road together. But I don't know if I can bear to see one of you, or worse both of you, die before me.'

Sanze said, as gently as he could, 'We are soldiers, mother.'

She sighed heavily. 'I know. Every day, I fear for both of you.'

When Gersina heard what had happened to their father, he called Sanze and Abozi aside and said, 'I want both of you to lead the unit that escorts our people to Durgenu.'

Sanze and Abozi protested at being assigned to such a peripheral task when action against the enemy was imminent, but Gersina just looked at them impassively and replied, 'I am your commander. You will do as I say.'

Sanze said heatedly, 'Gersina, we do appreciate why you're doing this, but—'

Gersina cut him short, saying firmly, 'You will do as I say. When you have completed the task, hurry back. I can assure you that you won't be left out of the action.' As they turned to go, Gersina said gently, 'Look after your mother. Take care of her for me as well. She was always good to me.'

On their way out of the cave that served as Gersina's headquarters, a woman brushed past them on her way in. Most of her face was covered with a shawl and she was wearing a long cloak that concealed her figure. She murmured a greeting and hurried past them. After a few steps, recognition stirred in the back of Sanze's mind. He asked Abozi, 'Don't I know that woman?'

Abozi replied, 'You should know her. That's Roda.'

Sanze stopped and looked back, halted in his tracks by the implications of what he was thinking. He asked, 'By Zabrazal, Gersina wouldn't be such a fool, would he?'

Abozi replied, 'If that's what you think, my dear brother, then you don't know your friend Gersina as well as you think you do.'

By this time Sanze knew that when it came to women, Gersina could be a great fool. In all other aspects of his life, Gersina was orderly and far-seeing. He never undertook a venture until he had assessed all the risks and had investigated all the possibilities. He was like a chess player who could see ten moves ahead of ordinary players. But with women, Gersina was just the opposite. With them, he seemed to court danger and uncertainty. After being closely acquainted with Gersina for many years, and after sharing both hardship and affluence with him, as well as disasters and triumphs, Sanze could only conclude that Gersina's relationships with women revealed a deep and subterranean stratum of his personality. The patient, stalking Gersina was also the Gersina who quivered with passion and rejoiced in his heedlessness as he leaped into the snare of a beautiful woman. It was a paradox—but it was true.

Sanze and Abozi obeyed orders and escorted the refugees to safety in Durgenu's territory. As they left the camp, a man riding a donkey called to Sanze. It was Aggam. Sanze hadn't seen him for a long time, but Aggam looked the same as ever. His lean face still had the same sardonic, supercilious expression and despite his age he still had the rigid bearing of a soldier on parade. Aggam waved a stick at him—it looked like the same old Corrector—and called out, 'So, you see that I was right.'

Sanze asked. 'How so?' Aggam glared at him with narrowed eyes. Old habits asserted themselves and Sanze corrected followed up by saying, 'How so, teacher?'

'How so? Didn't I always say that Berina should not have a king? Didn't I always say that Zabrazal is the only leader that Berina ever needed?' Aggam waved his stick and sneered. 'You see how things have turned out? Everywhere, we can see the consequences of disobedience – ha!'

Sanze said, 'Perhaps it is the fault of the priests.'

'The fault of the priests! What a foolish idea! Explain yourself!'

'It was the High Priest who anointed Vaxili as king.'

'Ha! But it was the people who rebelled against the High Priest and demanded a king.' Aggam's lips curled contemptuously around the word 'people'.

Sanze didn't want to continue the conversation. His schooldays were far behind him and this renewed acquaintance with Aggam revived unpleasant memories. As for Zabrazal, priests, and kings—well, only Zabrazal knew what was in Zabrazal's mind, and Sanze was getting tired of trying to understand the thoughts of an inscrutable god. Nor was he interested in finding out what a sour old fool like Aggam thought about the matter. Sanze turned and walked away, saying, 'I wish you a safe journey, teacher.'

Aggam called after him, 'You will see that I am right. This business of the kingdom will do nobody any good.'

Sanze never saw Aggam again. He heard that Aggam became a tutor to the children of one of Durgenu's officials and, about five years later, died peacefully in his sleep—which, in Sanze's opinion, was better than the old miscreant deserved.

When Durgenu learned that Sanze was Gersina's deputy commander, he provided Sanze's mother with an apartment within his palace. Durgenu made light of his kindness, saying genially, 'It is self-interest, dear friend, nothing but self-interest. One day Gersina will be a great man in Berina and you will be at his right hand. Then I will be repaid many times over for my kindness, not so?' Durgenu guffawed and slapped Sanze's back, saying, 'My friend, make sure that you tell Gersina what I have done. What use is an act of self-interest if no one knows about it?'

Sanze and Abozi hurried back to their base, where they found that Gersina had moved his main force to the southern edges of the mountains, to face Vaxili's advance. As they were leaving the base to join them, Roda appeared out of Gersina's personal quarters. Roda! Sanze's heart sank. Damn it, so Gersina really had taken up with her again! Roda greeted him curtly—they had been on cool terms ever since he had done Gersina a service at her expense—and asked superciliously, 'What, Sanze, not at the frontline with Gersina?'

Sanze replied, 'I have my duties!' Then he pushed past her, not wanting to be diverted by someone who could only bring him trouble.

She called after him, 'Where are you going, if I may ask?'

Sanze stopped and said, 'Now that you've reminded me of my duties, I'm going to leave for the frontline as soon as I've had a meal and got my kit together.'

Roda's eyes flickered as if she wanted something but didn't know how to ask. Then she put out her hand, dangling a bracelet, saying, 'Please give this to Gersina. Tell him that I'm thinking of him and waiting to greet him with a hero's welcome when he returns.' She said the word 'greet' with such an accent of insinuation that Sanze bridled. He refused to take the bracelet, saying, 'Gersina will have more things on his mind than trinkets.'

Roda looked him up and down, put her face close to his, and hissed, 'Who are you to say what is on Gersina's mind?'

'I am his deputy commander. By Zabrazal, how can you concern yourself with ornaments when we are all in deadly danger?'

Roda looked him in the eye defiantly and replied, 'If you know what is good for you, you will give this to Gersina.'

Abozi snatched the bracelet from Roda, saying impatiently, 'We'll take the damn thing to Gersina.' To Sanze, he said, 'Let's go, brother. We're wasting time.' He snorted and stalked away.

When Sanze caught up with Abozi, he asked, 'Why did you do that? Can't you see that she's nothing but trouble?'

Abozi replied, 'Then let's not look for more trouble over such a small thing.' He dropped the bracelet into Sanze's pack, saying, 'Don't be so stubborn. Give it to Gersina and then forget about it.'

Sanze and Abozi found their men ranged along the southern edge of the central massif while Vaxili's army was camped in a valley about half a day's march away. Gersina took them up to a vantage point and outlined the situation, saying, 'It's a stalemate. Vaxili won't advance into the mountains and we can't meet him in a regular battle.'

Sanze observed, 'The question is: who can play the waiting game the longest?'

Gersina grunted and swept his arm across the plain. He observed, 'Vaxili has the advantage. He's cut our supply lines. The only way that we can access supplies without risk is by getting them from Durgenu.'

Abozi said, 'We don't have much time and we don't have enough money. We're deep enough in debt to that Dornite shopkeeper as it is.'

Gersina scratched his chin and looked at them shrewdly. He said, 'Sometimes it is good not to have options. That way, the course of action is clear. This is the time to strike.'

Gersina's plan was simple. They would attack Vaxili's camp two nights later, when the waxing moon would provide just enough light to see by. Some of their men would create a diversion at the head of the valley, while other detachments on both sides of the valley would hurl fire-pots into the camp. A detachment at the entrance to the valley would cut off any soldiers who fled from the camp.

On the evening of the attack, Sanze and Gersina went forward to a place where they could overlook the valley and review the plan for the attack. As the sun dropped below the horizon and Gersina turned to leave, Sanze asked him, 'What do the omens say?'

Gersina gave him a look that was a mixture of surprise and disdain, as if he was hauling up an obscure incident from a discredited past. He grunted, 'Omens, eh? Ask a priest if you can find one.'

'You're going ahead without consulting the omens?'

Gersina put his hands on his hips and faced Sanze squarely. He said, 'I don't want to hear any more talk of omens. Hear me, and hear me well, Sanze—no more talk of omens!'

'But if the men—'

'The men will go where we lead them. That's what we expect of them and that's what we know they will do.' Gersina looked hard at Sanze and said pointedly, 'And that's what I expect of my commanders as well.' He turned and stalked off towards the camp. Then he stopped and said fiercely, 'Where was Zabrazal when my father was humiliated to the point of death? Where was Zabrazal when my mother killed herself rather than live with her shame? And, come to that, where was Zabrazal when your father died helpless and exposed out there in the wilderness? And when Dana—' He slammed a fist against his chest and said fiercely, 'Zabrazal the Merciful! Zabrazal the Defender of Berina!' Gersina spat into the dirt contemptuously and then ground the spot with the heel of a boot. 'Ha! I tell you, Sanze, from now on Zabrazal is no concern of mine. You hear me? I say—no concern of mine!'

By now they had reached the top of a ridge from which they could see the higher slopes, which were darkly turquoise in the twilight, solid shapes that bulked against the great background of the evening sky. Gersina stopped and swept his arm around, saying, 'You see these mountains? They are ours because we have made them ours.' He pointed towards Osicedi. 'You see all that land down there? Tomorrow it will be ours again, because we will have taken it, just like we've taken this place.' Gersina's voice now had a grating edge to it. 'You know what lies down there, Sanze—my brother's grave, my parents' graves, your father's grave—and over there—' Gersina pointed due south. 'Over there lies Dana, dead to no purpose—do I have to continue? No, I think not. And whose lives have been affected because of those deaths? Our lives or Zabrazal's life? Ha! You know the answer as well as I do.' Gersina slammed a fist against his chest again and cried, 'Berina is my concern, Berina is the concern of all of us—and Berina is what we will make of it, not what a bunch of lying, self-serving priests say it could or should be.'

At first Gersina's words were like a slap across Sanze's face. He felt as if something deep within him had been torn loose from its foundations. Then, as they entered the camp and were surrounded by the commonplace of their existence—the fires, the women preparing the meals, the laughter of children, the low voices of the men as they prepared their equipment—he thought, 'Yes, Zabrazal, where are you in all of this?' As always, he didn't have the answer. However, now for the first time, he knew with certainty that the question was fruitless because it never would be answered. What was the point of crying for the moon, especially when a thousand earlier cries had produced no result? Gersina was right: Berina was what they would make of it—and they alone, together with the resources at their disposal. They didn't have the time or the resources to wait for an inscrutable god to make himself known to them.

The attack on Vaxili's position went exactly as planned. More than half of the fire-pots found their marks, causing fires all over the camp. At the same time, after raising a thunderous noise by shouting, beating their shields, shaking rattles and blowing trumpets and whistles, the attackers advanced on the camp in line abreast. They moved a long way into the camp, driving the opposition before them, until they had to halt because of the fires and because of gathering resistance. At that moment, other detachments swept down from the sides of the valley with a great clamour, causing further panic among the enemy soldiers and driving them down the valley.

The second part of the plan also worked to perfection. At sunrise, while Vaxili and those who remained were trying to sort out the wreckage in their camp, Sanze led an attack from the place where they had lain concealed. There was some vigorous resistance, especially from Vaxili's royal guard, but most of the enemy soldiers surrendered quite tamely, not only because they were caught in a vice but also because they had heard that prisoners would be treated leniently.

Vaxili fought with almost unnatural vigour until he was overwhelmed by force of numbers and captured. His captors began to slap him around, taunting him, but Gersina stopped them, saying, 'He is the king. Treat him with the respect that the King of Berina deserves.'

Sanze and Abozi raised their eyebrows at each other. Sanze could see that they were thinking the same thing. After all that Gersina had suffered at the hands of Vaxili, not to mention what Lower Berina had suffered, surely courteous treatment was a lot more than Vaxili deserved.

Before they set the prisoners to work cleaning up the camp so that they could use it as a temporary base, Gersina addressed them, telling them that they were all Berinians and urging them not to make war on their compatriots in future. He also recounted the indignities that Lower Berina had suffered at the hands of Vaxili and appealed to people in Upper Berina to understand that their compatriots were justified in resisting oppression. Then, after the prisoners had done their work, they were marched southward and released at the border with Upper Berina.

That evening, Gersina brought Vaxili before his commanders. Gersina treated Vaxili deferentially, calling him 'Your Majesty' and making sure that he was comfortably seated and waited on by his own attendants. When Gersina began by making a speech like the one that he made earlier that day, outlining the indignities and atrocities from which the people of Lower Berina had suffered, Vaxili listened impassively, only occasionally showing signs of impatience and annoyance. However, when Gersina finished, Vaxili rose to his feet and cried, 'I demand to be released. I am your king. You may not make a prisoner of your king.'

Gersina said mildly, 'Your majesty, it would be better if we could conduct this conversation in an orderly manner. Please be seated.' For a moment it looked as if Vaxili was going to refuse. Then he threw himself into his chair, sighing in an exaggerated manner and puffing out his cheeks impatiently. Gersina said, 'Thank you, your majesty. Now, allow me to explain that you are not a prisoner. You are merely being kept in protective custody for your own safety.'

Vaxili jabbed a finger at Gersina and roared, 'Protective custody! My own safety! I don't need any assistance from you, you womanising toad!'

Whatever Vaxili's many shortcomings, Sanze had to admit that Vaxili didn't lack personal courage. Mind you, perhaps it wasn't really courage; perhaps it was just that Vaxili was short of a few measures of intelligence. Whatever the case, bluster and bravado didn't do his case much good. By the time that Vaxili had finished insulting Gersina and the gathering at large, most of the commanders would happily have strung him up immediately if Gersina had not intervened by announcing that Vaxili would be released as soon as all the garrisons withdrew from Lower Berina.

After the meeting, Sanze asked Gersina bluntly, 'Why should we let him go?'

Gersina replied, 'Because he is the king.'

'He is also a devious scoundrel. Look at what he's done to you alone, let alone to thousands of other people!'

Gersina replied obdurately, 'He is the anointed king. He is a weak man, more's the pity, but that doesn't change the fact that he is the King of Berina.' Seeing the look on Sanze's face, Gersina smiled ironically and said half-teasingly, 'What was it that Zaliek used to teach us? "Forget about revenge. Forget about resentment. They get in the way of clear thinking." Isn't that what Zaliek used to say?' Sanze nodded reluctantly. Gersina clapped him on a shoulder and cried, 'Well, let's apply those words to our present situation, eh?'

Sanze couldn't stop himself from saying, 'You said that you could never forgive Vaxili!'

Gersina's voice hardened as he replied, 'That is still true. I will never forget what he has done.' Then he said almost pleadingly, 'But, Sanze, surely you see that we must distinguish between Vaxili the man and Vaxili the king, for the good of the nation.'

Sanze cried in real frustration, 'What is the distinction?'

Gersina replied, 'That's a good question, my friend. I don't have a complete answer. But I do know that if we harm Vaxili now, then we will do violence to Vaxili the king—and by so doing, we will do further harm to the fabric of the kingdom.'

Later, Sanze heard a rumour that Gersina told Vaxili privately that the price of his freedom also included allowing Mecolo to return to Gersina, at which Vaxili declared that he would rather die than acquiesce to such a demand. Perhaps it was true. Sanze never asked him about the matter, and Gersina never discussed the matter with him. In any event, Vaxili got his freedom about one week later when all his garrisons had withdrawn from Lower Berina.

As he and Gersina rode back to their base, Sanze thought with satisfaction that now they had their feet back on the rungs of the ladder. They were climbing again. He didn't know where the ladder was leading them but, at least, they were on the move upwards.

When they reached their base, Roda came running to meet Gersina and welcomed him by throwing her arms around him, calling out that he was a victor and a hero. Sanze was standing just behind Gersina while Roda embraced him and, over his shoulder, she gave him a glance that was both defiant and provocative. Then, her body moulded against Gersina's, she tilted her head and asked, 'My lord, did you wear my bracelet into battle and did it bring you good fortune?' Of course, Gersina asked, 'Which bracelet?' and of course Roda replied, 'The one that I asked Sanze to give to you.'

Holding Roda around the waist, Gersina asked Sanze, 'Do you know about this bracelet, Sanze?'

Sanze hauled it out of his pack, saying, 'Here it is.'

Gersina's face darkened. He snatched it from Sanze, put it on his wrist, and turned away without another word. Later, he asked Sanze privately, 'Why didn't you give the bracelet to me before the battle?'

Sanze replied, 'There was so much going on that I forgot about it. That's the truth. But, in any case, it was only a small thing compared to planning and launching an attack on Vaxili's camp?'

Gersina said angrily, 'You should have remembered the bracelet! It was important to me.'

'Damn it, Gersina, it's only a bracelet, and a cheap one at that! Why are you making such an almighty fuss about such a small thing?'

Gersina glared at him and growled, 'It was important to Roda. You have caused her distress.'

Sanze muttered an apology through gritted teeth. Gersina glared at him again and stalked away—to comfort the discomfited Roda, Sanze supposed. Sanze shook his head and thought morosely that while all of them were celebrating their victory over Vaxili, a woman nearby was celebrating her victory over Gersina.

Within a week, Sanze and Gersina met with a congregation of the elders' councils in Lower Berina to plan for the immediate future. The meeting decided to establish a protected border between Upper and Lower Berina. However, after heated debate, at Gersina's insistence the delegates also affirmed their allegiance to Vaxili as king and to the Kingdom of Berina. The meeting ended by appointed Gersina and Sanze as commander and deputy commander of the army, respectively.

After the meeting, Sanze and Gersina moved their main base to Oridrin, a town that was centrally situated and close to the border with Upper Berina. There, with the financial and material support that was channelled through the elders' councils, and by means of Durgenu's trade contacts, they were able to triple the size of their force and outfit it adequately.

This was a strange and paradoxical period. Lower Berina had effectively seceded, virtually forming a state within a state, making laws, raising taxes, and maintaining an army, while at the same time it proclaimed its allegiance to the wider kingdom and to its ruler. While Sanze thought that Lower Berina should have seceded, Gersina always maintained that the arrangement was for the eventual good of the kingdom. He asked Sanze, 'Do you remember how we sat on the hills outside Osicedi and talked about a prophecy of the oracle at Osighina?' Sanze nodded while Gersina quoted the words: 'Berina only shall be free, when land and people meet the sea.' Then he asked Sanze gently, 'Do you still believe it to be true?'

'I do.'

Gersina said, 'Well, Sanze, believe me, the prophecy will never be fulfilled unless we have a unified kingdom of Berina.'

Sanze asked sceptically, 'Do you think what we're doing now is going to serve the cause of the unified kingdom?'

Gersina said firmly, 'I do!' Quoting a well-known proverb, he said, 'A path may wind, but its destination is fixed.'

About a year later, something happened that straightened out the path and brought the destination much closer. A procession consisting of twelve men riding on donkeys arrived at headquarters in Oridrin. Despite the heat, five of the men were covered from head to foot in cloaks and veils, with only their eyes showing through narrow slits. They reminded Sanze of the nomads of the dune desert in the distant west, except that the nomads rode camels, not plodding donkeys. The other men in the party, who were servants and guards, were dressed more conventionally.

While the veiled men dismounted, one of the servants hurried into the building. He returned within a few minutes and, after speaking deferentially to the men, escorted them inside. Fifteen minutes later, Gersina summoned Sanze to the council chamber. When Sanze entered the room, he was amazed to see Izebol there, dressed in his full regalia as high priest. Sanze put out his hand and, as he kneeled and kissed the high priest's ring, Izebol said, 'Ah! The honest Sanze! You are still the scourge of your enemies, so I hear.'

Sanze murmured, 'Your honour, I do what I can.'

Izebol looked at him quizzically and asked, 'You are also the scourge of the enemies of Berina?'

'I will always serve Berina where and when I can, your honour.'

Izebol pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully but said nothing. Then he raised Sanze to his feet while looking at Gersina expectantly. Gersina said in an unsteady voice, 'Sanze, I want you to be a witness.'

'A witness? To what?'

Izebol stepped forward, saying, 'You will see. But first, I want you to swear that you will never speak to anyone about what you witness here until the day that Vaxili dies. After that, you may speak about it freely. Are you prepared to swear to that?'

'Your honour, I—'

'Are you prepared to swear, or should I find another witness? We don't have time to waste.'

'Yes, your honour. I will swear to it.'

'Are you prepared to swear by Zabrazal's sacred altar and may Zabrazal curse you and your children and their children if you violate this oath?'

Sanze took the oath, after which Izebol administered the oath to Gersina, He pointed to his companions and said, 'They are also witnesses and they have taken the same oath.' To Gersina, he said, 'Kneel!' He gestured to the priests, who arranged themselves in a semi-circle around Gersina. Pouring a drop of oil on Gersina's forehead, Izebol proclaimed, 'I anoint you as the King of Berina. It is the will of Zabrazal.' He rubbed the oil across Gersina's forehead, put his hands on Gersina's head, murmured a short prayer, and then raised Gersina to his feet. The ceremony took less than a minute.

Gersina got up slowly and looked around unsteadily like a man in a daze. He wiped away a trickle of oil above his eyelid and then looked fixedly at the smear on his fingers as if he wondered how it had got there. Then he smiled shyly, almost apologetically, like a man who has stumbled on a priceless jewel while walking across a barren field.

Izebol asked, 'Sanze, have you witnessed that Gersina has been anointed as the King of Berina?'

Sanze muttered, 'Yes, your honour.'

'Speak up, man, so that everyone can hear.'

'Yes, your honour. I have witnessed it.'

'Let us hear it in your own words!'

Still unsteadily, Sanze replied, 'I have witnessed that you have anointed Gersina as the King of Berina.'

'And you have sworn that—?'

'I have sworn that I will never speak about it until the day of Vaxili's death.'

'After which—?'

'After which, I may speak about it freely.'

Izebol nodded, raised a finger, and said, 'Remember your oath, and may Zabrazal curse you if you betray it.' He leaned back against the table, put his hands to his forehead and, with eyes closed, shook his head wearily before he said, 'Zabrazal has begun to call me home. Every time he calls, his voice is more insistent. Soon he will give me the final call.' Izebol paused for breath and rubbed his head as if he was clearing it of errant thoughts. However, when he spoke again, his voice was strong and clear. 'I also foresee that Vaxili, disobedient wastrel that he is, won't last for long. He might survive me—but even if he does, it won't be long before he walks the same path to Zabrazal's place of judgement.' Izebol leaned back again and closed his eyes. This time, he paused for so long that Sanze thought that he had fallen into a trance. Izebol roused himself, blinked as if he was coming back from a far place, snapped his fingers, and said, 'Our business here is finished. It is time for us to go.'

Gersina said, 'Your honour, you have had a long journey. We can prepare quarters for you and your companions. You can stay for the night and then leave at your leisure.'

Izebol shook his head. 'We thank you for your courtesy, but it is best that we should leave as soon as possible. The fewer the number of people who know about our visit, the better.' Izebol pulled on his cloak, motioned to his companions to leave the room, and held out his hand. As they kneeled and kissed his finger-tips, Izebol murmured a blessing. At the door, he paused and said sternly, 'Remember your oath!' He covered his face and left.

Gersina took a deep breath. His eyelid was twitching but otherwise he looked calm. What was he thinking, wondered Sanze? Within a matter of minutes, Gersina's status had changed from that of a rebel to that of the future King of Berina. It was so astonishing that Sanze wondered if it had really happened. The whole incident had the quality of one of those fever-inspired visions that drifted through his mind while he lay wracked by illness in the squalid hut in Thania. Gersina put a hand on his shoulder and murmured, 'Compose yourself, Sanze. Nobody must know what has happened here.'

In a daze, Sanze muttered, 'I'm all right.'

Gersina said lightly, 'You look as if you've been hit by a rock-fall.' Still with his hand on Sanze's shoulder, he sat down next to him. Sanze blinked a few times, shook his head to try to clear it, and said, 'By Zabrazal, Gersina, you're calm about it.'

Gersina replied in a steady voice, 'It is the will of Zabrazal, not so? Who am I to question it?'

Sanze couldn't help muttering with deep scepticism, 'The will of Zabrazal!'

Gersina replied straight-faced, 'That is what Izebol said, isn't it?'

Gersina's face was glowing as if he had been immersed in a bath of mercurial liquid. Sanze told him, 'You'd better stay here for a while. You'll give yourself away if you go outside looking like that.'

Sanze would have liked answers to the inevitable questions. Why did Izebol choose Gersina? Was it some sort of trick? If so, what was the aim of it? He also pondered the practical implications of what had happened. If it wasn't a trick, how was it going to come to pass? When Vaxili died, was Gersina just going to come forward and claim the throne? Without any opposition? Faced with the complexity of the matter, and thinking of the uncertainties on the road ahead, Sanze began to think that it was a trap for Gersina. When he said this, Gersina replied, 'Do you remember when we were boys, how we sat on the hills and talked about Berina and the future?' Sanze nodded. He could picture the day as if had happened yesterday. Gersina said reflectively, 'For a long time, I've felt that it is my destiny to guide the kingdom.'

'But, Gersina, to be king!'

Gersina just closed his eyes and nodded calmly, as if he had received an infusion of inner strength and confidence. Sanze said, 'If this is what you want, Gersina, it is going to be a hard road to walk. Getting there will be difficult but staying there will be even more difficult.'

Gersina leaned forward and grasped Sanze's shoulder. He asked urgently, 'Will you walk the road with me, Sanze?' Sanze nodded. Gersina said, 'Good! I need you. More than anyone and more than ever, I need you.' He squeezed Sanze's shoulder and said earnestly, 'With you by my side, I can climb the heights with confidence.'

Sanze kept the secret for three years, as did Gersina, until the time came to step into the open and climb the final slopes towards the summit.

Gersina's time was coming close. So was Sanze's.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: ROTTEN FRUIT

Surprisingly, Vaxili made no move to re-invade Lower Berina. There was a rumour that Izebol had warned him off but, if that was true, what did Izebol say? Nobody knew. On the other hand, Vaxili had his hands full in defending his kingdom from the Dornites. In the space of three years, the Dornites made two major incursions into Upper Berina. On the first occasion, Vaxili's army fought them to a standstill, mainly because Kainar had been reinstated as supreme commander after a near-revolt among the troops. On the second occasion, Vaxili led the army personally; and he led them to a crushing defeat. The Dornites captured all the Berinian territory that they relinquished after the second battle of Gandonda, as well as a portion of Vaxili's home region. The main reason for this catastrophic defeat was that Vaxili had purged all his senior commanders, Kainar included, accusing them of disloyalty and of plotting to assassinate him. However, as usual it was easy to see that the real reason was that Vaxili couldn't co-exist with anyone who was capable of wielding power and responsibility successfully.

After the second battle, Vaxili's long-suffering troops finally revolted. They marched on the palace and demanded that Vaxili should abdicate, that Kainar should take the crown, and that the other commanders should be restored to their positions. Vaxili blustered, cursing his soldiers as rebels and traitors and threatening to execute the ringleaders of the revolt. Understandably, this infuriated the soldiers. With only the royal guard remaining loyal to Vaxili, matters had reached a point where it looked as if Vaxili had reached the end of the road. That was when Izebol intervened. Surprisingly for such a crusty old fire-breather, he was so conciliatory that he succeeded in reconciling the opposing factions. The troops dropped their demand that Vaxili should abdicate on condition that all the imprisoned commanders were restored to their positions. It was a climb-down for Vaxili, but it saved his crown. Probably it saved his skin as well.

At this point, with Upper Berina in disarray, some leading members of the Supreme Council approached Gersina privately to ask if he would be prepared to be crowned king of Lower Berina. Before he gave his answer, Gersina summoned his senior commanders as witnesses. In their presence, he told the elders bluntly that Vaxili, the anointed choice of Zabrazal, was the only king in Berina. That, pronounced Gersina, was how it would be while Vaxili was alive. The elders went away looking chastened. However, even while Gersina was giving a convincing performance as a loyalist, Sanze sensed that he was plotting his moves well in advance. Like a good chess player, Gersina would sacrifice a minor piece or even stage a retreat if he was moving towards his goal.

That evening, Roda visited Sanze. Usually, when Roda was with Gersina, she would greet Sanze with a forced smile, even as she glared at him. When she was alone, she just swept past him in disdain. Now, however, she simpered as she sidled up to Sanze, giving the impression that they had never been anything else but the best of friends. Sanze received her as cordially as possible, while thinking privately that he would feel more secure if he was dealing with a spitting cobra.

Roda began by saying, 'Sanze, we don't always see eye to eye, do we?'

Sanze replied with feeling, 'That is so.'

Roda continued, 'But we both want the best for Gersina, don't we?'

Sanze answered cautiously, 'Well, he is my best and oldest friend. And as for you—as his wife, of course it's only natural that you would want the best for him.'

Gersina married Roda soon after they defeated Vaxili. When Gersina told Sanze what he was planning, Sanze pointed out that he was already married to Mecolo. To this, Gersina replied heatedly that the marriage was invalid because Vaxili had dissolved it and had forced Mecolo to remarry. Anyway, said Gersina, there was no law against having more than one wife. Sanze could have continued the argument by reminding Gersina that Mecolo had just given birth to their son but seeing a familiar look in Gersina's eyes—a combination of determination and defiant anger—he shrugged and walked away. However, the matter couldn't be dismissed with a shrug; Sanze had a feeling of gloomy apprehension whenever he thought about Roda and Gersina.

A year after they were married, Roda gave birth to a son. She produced another son a year later. Now Gersina had three sons by two different women. This was complicated enough, thought Sanze, without speculating on what might happen when and if Gersina ascended to higher honors one day.

Now Roda was looking at Sanze thoughtfully with a finger laid against one of her smooth cheeks. Oh, thought Sanze, she was attractive, for sure, with her clear, almost translucent skin, her large eyes, and her well-packaged frame. However, it was a long time since a woman's looks and a woman's ways had had much effect on him, and Roda, of all women, wasn't going to win him over. Sanze didn't like Roda and he didn't trust her.

Roda asked sweetly, 'Do you respect Gersina's abilities?'

'Yes, I do.'

Roda laid a hand on Sanze's arm and said even more sweetly, 'Gersina respects you greatly.'

'I'm pleased to hear it.' Sanze looked down at her hand in disdain. She winced and withdrew it from his arm.

Roda tried another tack, saying, 'You know, Sanze, Gersina doesn't always know what's good for him. He's so busy with important matters that he doesn't have time to look out for himself. You should use your influence to guide him in the right direction.'

'I give advice when I'm asked for it.'

Roda put her head on one side, flicked her tongue over her bottom lip, and looked at him closely. She asked, 'Do you think that Gersina is destined for bigger things?'

For a moment Sanze wondered if she knew about Izebol's visit to Gersina. Then he dismissed the thought and replied, 'Of course! We all hope for bigger things. Wouldn't you agree?'

Roda clucked her tongue in annoyance and said impatiently, 'Sanze! Don't be so cold!' She leaned towards him and said confidentially, 'You do know that the council has offered the crown to Gersina, don't you?'

'Yes. It is common knowledge.'

'Well?'

'Well, what?'

Roda clenched her fists and bit her lip. However, she got herself under control and said winningly, 'Oh, Sanze! Surely you know what I'm talking about!'

'I'm not a mind-reader. Why don't you speak plainly, Roda?'

Roda clicked her tongue again and said, 'I mean that Gersina should have accepted the offer? Don't you agree?'

'He has made his decision. Respect it, Roda. Leave things as they are.'

'It's not final. He can go back to the council at any time and tell them that he's changed his mind.'

'He could—but he won't.'

Roda put on another appealing smile. Looking up at him from under lowered eyelids, she asked, 'Sanze, don't you see what it would mean to you, if Gersina was king?'

'Do you mean that I would be the deputy king? Imagine that—a little throne for me, right next to Gersina's big throne.'

'Deputy king? Oh, Sanze, you're such a joker! No, you would be commander of the army.'

'And you, Roda, would be Queen of Lower Berina. Queen Roda! What a leg-up that would be for a simple girl from Osicedi.'

Roda gritted her teeth, got herself under control again, and said in an even but strained voice, 'Sanze, Sanze, you misunderstand! It's not about me, not at all. It's about Gersina and what he deserves.'

'You don't want to be Queen of Lower Berina?'

Roda was still trying to win him over even if she was smiling through gritted teeth. She said, 'Oh, Sanze, you really do misunderstand me! I'm his wife. I just want what's best for Gersina, that's all.'

'That's enough, Roda! Stop trying to manipulate me! I don't want to discuss it anymore.'

'But, Sanze—'

'Do you hear me? No more!'

Roda dropped her mask. Her eyes blazed, and she spat at him. Then she hissed and stalked away.

At about the same time, a story about Gersina began to spread through Lower Berina. According to the story, when Gersina was just a young, shepherd boy, he killed a sheep-thieving Dornite giant with one stone from his sling. The giant was so big that he towered more than head and shoulders above ordinary mortals and had shoulders as broad as a sack of grain. Later the story was embellished with the detail that Gersina cut off the vanquished man's head with one blow from the giant's sword. As the story gained currency, it was further embroidered with the detail that by killing the giant, Gersina saved all Lower Berina from invasion by the Dornites. Someone wrote a poem about the incident, and soon after that the poem spawned a popular song. The legend of Gersina and the Dornite Giant became part of the folklore of Lower Berina, and it wasn't long before it became part of the folklore of all Berina.

Although he couldn't prove it, Sanze suspected that the story originated with Roda. His suspicions were sustained by the fact that she used to sing a piece from the song whenever he passed by her as if she knew how much this sort of myth-making and misleading nonsense annoyed him.

Not long after his conversation with Roda, Vaxili died in a Dornite ambush. It was said that Vaxili fought like a hero and that finally, wounded and surrounded by the enemy, he fell on his sword to avoid being captured. As Sanze observed, almost everyone who knew Vaxili believed the story because amid all Vaxili's defects, personal courage was about his only good quality.

The death sent Berina into a ferment of activity and intrigue. With Sanze as his witness, Gersina told the Supreme Council of Lower Berina that Izebol had anointed him as Vaxili's successor. Councillors from Upper Berina met with councillors from Lower Berina, while Sanze led a delegation of military commanders from Lower Berina to hold discussions with commanders from Upper Berina.

Izebol, who was near to death at Sininda, sent messengers to the councils in both Upper and Lower Berina to confirm that he had anointed Gersina as the future king. Unfortunately, the messenger to Upper Berina was ambushed and killed before he reached his destination and Izebol died before he could send another messenger. Mysteriously, after Izebol died, not one of the priests who had been present on the occasion could remember anything about Izebol anointing Gersina. However, the messenger to Lower Berina did deliver his message safely to the Supreme Council.

Within a month, the Council of Upper Berina nominated Vaxili's son, Aebrel, as the new king. There was outrage in Lower Berina. In a desperate last measure, the Supreme Council of Lower Berina sent a message to Upper Berina to try to delay the crowning. However, the factions supporting Aebrel imprisoned the messenger until after the coronation and then paraded him in public, accusing him of being a liar and a rumour-monger. After they flogged him, they sent him packing with the warning that he would be killed if he spoke to anyone before he reached Lower Berina.

In Lower Berina, there was a lot of fire-breathing and fist-thumping when the Supreme Council and the army commanders met to discuss the situation. However, Gersina settled the matter by saying flatly that he would not countenance any talk of invading Upper Berina. His position was that an invasion, whether successful or not, would drive the two parts of Berina further apart. Moreover, said Gersina, the intrigues and instability in Upper Berina would soon drive Aebrel from power. In the meantime, all that was necessary was to make it known everywhere that he, Gersina, was the anointed king and that he was waiting to re-unite Berina in a peaceful manner.

After the meeting, Sanze said to Gersina, 'I wouldn't say this to anyone else, but you might have to wait a lot longer than you think.'

Gersina put a hand on Sanze's shoulder and said confidently, 'You will see, my friend—the tree is so rotten that it just needs a bit of shaking for the fruit to fall into our laps.' He glanced at Sanze's waist and said, 'Keep your belt and the rest of your equipment ready for action. Have no doubt, the kingdom will be ours soon enough.'

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: DESOLATION

There was one incident to which Sanze could point surely and say, yes, without doubt, that was the first time that he and Gersina broke the bread of shared guilt. It was the first serious fracture in their relationship; set against the long sweep of events, it was only a small fracture. But it was a fracture, nonetheless.

The seed was sown when they faced Kainar's army on the field of Origun.

When Aebrel became king, Kainar continued to serve as commander of the army. However, it was clear from the start that he, and not the king, was the real power in Upper Berina. For instance, to forestall any of the intrigues that marked Vaxili's reign, Kainar told Aebrel bluntly that he, Kainar, would have exclusive control of the army. Furthermore, if there was even a hint, in fact the merest whiff of a hint, of an attempt to remove him as commander then he, Kainar, would know what to do...Aebrel got the picture.

As for Aebrel—well, what could you say about a man who had all the flaws that one would expect in Vaxili's son, along with a few that were uniquely his own? Aebrel was a weakling, a dissolute man who couldn't even arrange things properly in his own life, let alone rule a kingdom. Sanze's opinion of Aebrel, which was the opinion that most people had of him, was that Aebrel lusted after popularity, always took the easy way, and had the moral qualities of a bag of offal together with the diplomatic abilities of a skulking hyena. For instance, Aebrel secured a temporary peace by ceding most of the territory that the Dornites had conquered, while at the same time agreeing to pay them a huge sum in tribute every year.

Aebrel seemed to think that he could earn the respect of his people by signing away a quarter of their territory and then raising debilitating taxes to pay tribute to the people who stole the land. It was no surprise that he faced popular protests all over Upper Berina. Nor was it a surprise that he suppressed the protests ruthlessly amid bloodshed and torture. Then, as if he didn't have enough on his plate, after nine inauspicious months on the throne, Aebrel decided that the time was ripe to conquer Lower Berina. For some reason he thought that he would succeed where his father had failed.

Sanze was with Gersina and the other commanders in their council chamber at Oridrin when they heard that Kainar and his army were advancing towards the border. Gersina said calmly, 'I did not expect them so soon.'

There was silence while they digested the news. Then Abozi said thoughtfully, 'If Kainar is leading them, it's going to be a tough battle.'

It was mid-winter and Gersina was ill with a fever, lying on a couch under a pile of blankets, sweating and coughing. He raised his head from the pillow, frowned in displeasure and asked, 'Do you fear him?'

Abozi replied evenly, 'All I mean is that Kainar is a worthy opponent.'

Gersina propped himself into a sitting position, coughed, and wiped his forehead. Sanze could see that he was getting irritated. Since the day that he defeated Vaxili, Gersina had only known success and promises of future glory. Nowadays, he became impatient with cautious talk even when they were discussing a foe as redoubtable as Kainar.

Although Sanze was more cautious, he understood how Gersina felt. At Gersina's side, lately he, too, had only known the heady flight of success. Since retreating to the mountains, they had not only retrieved all the ground that they had lost but had climbed a long way further as well. In fact, they had climbed to the steps at the base of the throne of Berina. However, unlike Gersina, Sanze always had a pervasive sense that success was deceitful. For instance, he remembered all too clearly the ignominy of imprisonment and the desperate days in the desert. Also, when he thought about the battle that lay ahead, he remembered that squat, square-faced man—that same Kainar who was advancing towards them—who had planned the attack on Asjolorm with meticulous thoroughness, leaving nothing to chance. However, recognising that Gersina was in no mood for caution, Sanze said, 'The die has been cast. We have to meet Kainar as soon as possible and preferably before his forces set foot in Lower Berina.'

Gersina coughed, spat into a bowl, and said, 'Damnation! I'm in no condition for a campaign. You will have to lead the army, Sanze.' He fell back against the pillows, coughed violently, and then waved a hand at them, saying, 'Well, get moving! Go! Go and deal with Kainar.' As they turned to leave the chamber, Gersina called Sanze to his side, saying weakly, 'Sanze! A word, if you please.' He took Sanze's hand, grinned bleakly, and said, 'No need to bring back his head on a lance, eh, Sanze! We're not savages, are we?'

'No. We are far removed from that state, are we not?'

'We've come a long way, haven't we, Sanze, old friend?' Sanze nodded. Gersina glanced at Sanze's waist, saying, 'I see that you still have the belt.'

'I told you that I would always wear it.'

'Of course! And the loyal Sanze always keeps his word, doesn't he?'

'When he gives it freely—yes, he keeps it.'

Gersina coughed so hard that his body was wracked by the spasms. He squeezed Sanze's hand and muttered, 'Go and deal with Kainar.'

It was an assignment not to be taken lightly. Weighing up the situation, Sanze reckoned that Kainar would have the advantage of a larger, better armed force. However, reckoned Sanze, his army would have the advantage of fitness and experience, going right back to the time when they operated in the wilderness. Another advantage was that they had never lost a battle, unlike the soldiers who were marching to meet them. Furthermore, they had Gersina at their back together with a united populace, while the enemy force was backed by the weak and indecisive Aebrel together with a restless and dissatisfied people.

When Sanze said these things to his brother as they marched southward, Abozi just nodded non-committedly and grunted, 'We shall see.'

Sanze grinned to himself. Abozi was always like that before an engagement. But when battle commenced, he was as solid as a rock and as workmanlike as a reaper.

Abozi jerked his head backwards and said, 'It's probably just as well that we've got them with us.'

He was referring to the squad of Dornite mercenaries who were marching behind them, their feather-crested helmets slung over their backs and their kilts swinging. Durgenu had provided the mercenaries at what he termed a bargain price, saying that it was always an honour to do business with his respected colleagues, Gersina and Sanze.

Sanze muttered to Abozi, 'I wouldn't have thought that the day would come when we would march together with a squad of Dornites.'

Abozi asked, 'How are you going to use them?'

'I'll put them in the centre.'

Abozi leaned towards him and asked confidentially, 'Can we depend on them in the centre?'

'I know that we can, Abozi. Look at it like this—our own people can turn and run home when the going gets tough, but where would the Dornites run to?'

Abozi snorted. 'Dornites have homes, too.'

'Maybe. But every man, woman, and child along the way would harass them to settle old scores. And home for them is a lot further than Oridrin.'

Abozi said gruffly, 'Well, we'll see.'

On the field of Origun, Sanze's army defeated Kainar's army. It was a close-run affair, like two evenly matched wrestlers who strive against each other while clasped together, weight against weight, heave against heave, searching for the first sign of weakness. Finally, the break came when, after nearly two hours of struggle, the Dornite contingent managed to drive a wedge through the enemy's centre. On their right flank, Abozi saw the opportunity and drove his men inward. The men in the enemy flank fell back against each other, allowing the opposing force to drive into them from three directions. Kainar's army swayed, crumpled, and then began to scatter.

Abozi led a detachment in close pursuit, pressing forward at speed until Kainar and some of his men regrouped on the hillside. Abozi's forces halted and looked at the opposing force warily. It was an impasse. Suddenly someone broke ranks and ran forward up the hill. It was Abozi. He stopped a few paces from the enemy's front rank and shouted, 'Kainar, the battle isn't over yet. Come out and fight man to man.'

Kainar asked calmly, 'Is that you, Abozi brother of Sanze?'

'It is.'

Kainar replied, 'I remember you well from the old days. I have no quarrel with you.'

Abozi called, 'Come out and face me if you're not a coward.'

Kainar replied, 'A coward? I've defeated more men than you have years in your life! You know that, or you wouldn't be challenging me.'

'Then come out and face me if you're not a coward.'

Kainar responded patiently, 'I don't want to strike you down. I have no quarrel with you and I will not fight against you.'

From a distance, Sanze could see what was happening. He yelled at Abozi, ordering him to stand back; but Abozi was too far away to hear him.

Abozi's reply to Kainar was to rise to his full height, swing his shield into place, shout the war cry, and rush forward. Kainar retreated a few paces and crouched, covering himself with his shield. As Abozi reached him, Kainar thrust the butt of his spear forward at a steep angle. To be fair to Kainar, he put the butt-end forward to minimise injury. However, the spear passed under Abozi's shield and hit him in the stomach. Abozi was moving with such speed that the butt passed right through him. He doubled over, shuddered, and died on the spot.

When Sanze saw his brother fall, he wanted to rush forward and throw himself onto Kainar. Of course, he couldn't, because he was too far away. In any case, even while he was filled with horror and outrage, he knew better than to indulge in personal vendettas on the battlefield. As Sanze learned from Zaliek, a soldier's task—and especially a commander's task—is to defeat the enemy forces, clear them from the field, and then pursue them to wreak the maximum amount of destruction. Personal feelings such as vanity and desire for revenge just get in the way of the task.

Suppressing his seething emotions, Sanze assembled the men for an orderly pursuit. At the second battle of Gandonda, he saw what could happen when a pursuing force rushes forward in disorganised waves like a pack of yelping hounds. The enemy can rally at any time and within a few minutes victory can be compromised. Sanze wasn't going to allow that to happen.

Late in the afternoon, Kainar rallied some of his men on another hilltop. By the looks of them, they were the core of what remained of Vaxili's royal guard. They would be a tough proposition.

Sanze was assessing the position when Kainar stepped forward. He stood squarely with legs apart and shouted, 'Sanze, for how long will we oppose each other? Isn't there enough bitterness already?'

Sanze replied, 'More than enough, I would say.'

Kainar continued, 'Aren't we all men of the same nation?'

'We are. What of it?'

Kainar put down his shield and sword and stood there in just his tunic and breastplate. He raised his arms, palms forward, and shouted in reply, 'Order your men to stop pursuing their brothers and we can all depart in peace.'

Sanze replied, 'Kainar, you speak of brothers and yet you killed my only brother.'

Kainar answered, 'I regret it. But he challenged me, and I couldn't avoid him. He died honourably as a soldier should. Be grateful for that.'

Now that Sanze was so close to Kainar, rage pounded through his veins. He was on the verge of rushing forward to attack Kainar. In fact, Sanze had already half-drawn his sword when sanity prevailed. He pushed his sword back, and shouted, 'Death is a soldier's closest companion. We have not lived honourably until we have died honourably.' It was a politic answer that concealed what he really felt. Privately, he resolved that Kainar would pay for Abozi's death. However, in the meantime he had to attend to his duties.

Kainar acknowledged his words with a wave of his hand. He said something to his men and they lowered their shields. Sanze shouted, 'If you agree, then we will conclude the engagement.'

Kainar shouted back, 'That is as it should be. Brothers shouldn't be at each other's throats.'

Sanze responded, 'Then brothers shouldn't attack brothers.' Kainar made a resigned movement with his hand but said nothing. Sanze took a few steps forward and shouted, 'I have a message for Aebrel.'

Kainar replied, 'Let me hear it.'

Sanze shouted, 'Tell your master that there is only one anointed king in Berina and that is Gersina. Tell Aebrel that he only continues to rule Upper Berina because Gersina does not want to cause more suffering. Tell Aebrel that his days are numbered. If he abdicates, Gersina will treat him with consideration. If not, he will lose everything.'

Kainar replied, 'I will deliver your message. But remember that Aebrel rules because of the strength of his general and his army, not because of Gersina's kindness. Remember that, when you are tempted to think otherwise.' Kainar raised his hand in salute and stepped back into the ranks.

Sanze ordered the trumpeter to blow the signal for a halt, posted a rear-guard, and led the main force back down the hill. By the time they reached the bottom of the hill, Kainar and his men had disappeared.

Sanze's force won an overwhelming victory, losing less than fifty men as against nearly four hundred on the other side. However, with Abozi among the dead, Sanze could not celebrate the achievement. In fact, the return journey, with his brother's body draped over the back of a donkey, was one of the heaviest periods of Sanze's life. To make it even heavier, he could not show his grief because, as commander, he couldn't spoil the celebratory atmosphere among his men. They would interpret sadness, bitterness, or regret on his part as a reproach to them. But inside, Sanze was grieving and lacerated. He had not felt like this since he lost Dana. The world was desolate, and he hated Kainar for making it so.

Abozi was only twenty-four years of age when he died. Marching towards their home in Osicedi to bury him, Sanze kept thinking of how quickly time had passed since they were children. Only a few years ago, Abozi was a schoolboy walking the fields with him to learn how to be a shepherd. Then he was a lanky and fresh-faced youth, roaming the hills with the sheep as Sanze had done before him. Next, in quick succession, he became a soldier, Sanze's companion in Vaxili's prison cell, their comrade in the desert, and a respected commander. Saddest of all, Sanze remembered that their mother had a special love for Abozi. She called him the last-born lamb, the unexpected gift that arrived when she thought that she would not carry a child again. She would say, 'Abozi is Zabrazal's special gift to all of us.'

Now Abozi was dead, his corpse lashed over the back of a donkey. As they marched northward, Sanze's heart shrivelled when he thought about how his mother would react to the news. His father died only a few years ago, and now she would also have to bear the death of her youngest son, her beloved, late-born lamb. Especially, Sanze remembered how, after his father's death, his mother said to Abozi and him, 'I don't know if I can bear to see one of you die before me.'

Sanze stayed in Osicedi for two days to comfort his mother and to arrange for Abozi to be buried in the tomb with their father. Then he led the army back to Oridrin. Although his mother begged him to stay for the funeral, and although he wanted to do so, he knew his duty. Osicedi wasn't a garrison town. If the army stayed too long, there would be trouble. There would be fighting, drunkenness, whoring, and all the rest of the undisciplined behaviour that occurs when soldiers are idle. Leaving his mother behind with the corpse of his brother, Sanze led the troops out of Osicedi, heading down the red-dirt road to Oridrin. The dust that filled his eyes and nostrils matched the aridity in his soul.

CHAPTER NINETEEN: ASCENT TO POWER

Matters in Upper Berina deteriorated quickly. As if to compensate for losing the battle, or possibly to forestall any impression that he had been weakened, Kainar tightened his grip so much that Aebrel was hardly more than a hostage on his own throne. Kainar took all the decisions and made all the moves while Aebrel wallowed in wine, consoled himself with his ever-growing collection of women, and performed some ceremonial functions.

One evening, during a drunken carousal, Aebrel accused Kainar of sleeping with one of the royal concubines. This was too much for Kainar who, whatever his faults, wasn't a womaniser. In fact, he had been married for twenty years and held strictly to the old virtues of faithfulness and monogamy. In the presence of the whole court, Kainar turned on Aebrel in fury, saying, 'Remember who I am, my lord! You forget that I have been loyal to your father's house ever since Izebol anointed him, even although he treated me worse than a peasant. Now you treat me like a dog, insulting me in public and accusing me of sleeping with one of your whores. Pha! I wouldn't even touch one of your women with the tip of a spear for fear of infection.'

Aebrel blustered, 'You forget yourself! Who's king here, eh? Me, that's who! I'm king in Upper Berina!'

Kainar was in a red-eyed rage. He spat out, 'King! You can't even govern yourself! You're ruled by your whores and by wine!'

'Remember your position, Kainar! I could—'

'You could what? Look at you, my lord—' Kainar ground out the word 'lord' in contempt and then cried, 'King of Upper Berina! King of the Wine Cups, more likely! Pha! You're so drunk that you can't even stand on your own two feet.'

Aebrel shook his head muzzily and growled, 'Shut up, Kainar. I'm the king. I command it!'

Kainar pointed at Aebrel and said with knife-sharp scorn, 'You can be thankful that I haven't handed you and your kingdom over to Gersina—which is what Izebol promised him, as you might remember.'

With that, the die was cast. Next day, Kainar sent a message to Gersina, requesting a meeting as soon as possible. Gersina replied in the affirmative but set a condition for the meeting: he demanded that Mecolo should accompany Kainar. By demanding Mecolo, Gersina was testing the extent of Kainar's power.

Kainar delivered Mecolo, and Gersina met with him privately at a location on the border, half a day's march from Oridrin. Not even Sanze and the rest of Gersina's commanders knew exactly what was discussed. Gersina would only tell them that he made it plain to Kainar that Aebrel should not be harmed, whatever happened.

Later, Sanze asked Gersina, 'If this works out, what's going to happen to Aebrel, when he's no longer king?'

Gersina gazed at him steadily and replied, 'If he falls into our hands, he will be treated with honour and respect as the son of Vaxili deserves.'

'Honour and respect! You mean that you'll heap coals of fire on his head, not so? He'll be like a dog at your feet, won't he? What a pity that Vaxili won't be there to see it.'

'Have a care, Sanze!'

Sanze saw that he had struck Gersina too close to home. He retreated a little by saying, 'By Zabrazal, Gersina, don't you see that you won't be secure as long as Aebrel is alive?'

Gersina flushed and retorted, 'We will deal with the situation when it arises.' On the surface, Gersina looked calm and controlled. However, Sanze knew him well enough to see that he was edgy with excitement and anticipation. Sanze saw that Gersina sensed that the time when he would become king of united Berina was near at hand. However, to be fair to Gersina, Sanze knew that he wasn't only excited at the thought that he would soon be king. The unity of Berina was an obsession with him, as it was with Sanze as well. It went back a long way, at least as far back as the time when, as boys, they sat on the hills and looked towards the coast while reflecting on the weakness and vulnerability of Berina.

Sanze pushed the boundaries of their relationship by saying, 'Aebrel will be a focus for rebellion as long as he lives.' It was risky, but if he didn't say this to Gersina, who would?

Gersina snorted disdainfully. 'Aebrel is a spent force. Just about no one supports him now, and even his few supporters will abandon him when he's no longer king.'

'Don't underestimate how much support he has. Some people support him just because he is the son of Vaxili and others support him because they'd rather have him on the throne than you.'

Gersina clucked his tongue impatiently and asked sceptically, 'Aebrel rather than me? Really? And why is that?'

'Because they can manipulate Aebrel and they won't be able to manipulate you.'

Gersina poked a finger at Sanze's chest and barked, 'For a soldier, you seem to know a lot about politics.'

'That's because these things are so obvious that even a plain soldier like me can see them.'

Gersina stood back and looked at Sanze closely. He rubbed his nose and said slowly, more in amusement than in irritation, 'Ah! So plain soldier Sanze is advising the future king on the politics of the throne, is he?'

'Perhaps that's because plain soldier Sanze can see some things plainly.'

Gersina grunted and tried to conceal a grin. Sanze made an expansive bow, kneeled, and said, 'My lord, I am your humble servant.' That stopped Gersina. He didn't know how to handle Sanze when his old friend was on his knees before him. Gersina stood there stroking his chin, looking at him appraisingly. Then he put out his hand and raised Sanze to a standing position. Gersina flushed and muttered, 'Sanze, you embarrass me. The fact is, you embarrass me exceedingly.'

Sanze said, 'Gersina, your cause is my cause. I advise you as I would advise myself.'

'Sanze! Will you shame me as well as embarrass me?'

'I could never do that. Your shame would be my shame.'

Gersina chuckled affectionately and cried, 'Be careful, Sanze! You will be a courtier yet.'

'A courtier! I don't think so! I would die of suffocation.'

Gersina grinned and embraced him, saying, 'Sanze, Sanze! If Zabrazal exists and if he ever gave me a gift, then surely, he gave you to me, as a pillar to my house.'

They stood there beaming at each other, their disagreement forgotten. Sanze made a half-mocking bow and said, 'The general is always at the service of the king-to-be.'

Gersina's face was sombre when he replied, 'Not all kings are so fortunate.' He put up a finger and said, 'Ah! Talking of serving the king-to-be, there's something that you can do for me right now.' Sanze looked at Gersina enquiringly. Gersina dropped his eyes and looked embarrassed while he muttered, 'Uh—quarters need to be arranged for Mecolo and the child.'

The child? Didn't Gersina even know the name of his own son? Sanze put the thought aside and asked, 'Should we arrange a room for them in your compound?'

'No, not in my compound. Roda isn't—you know—she's not fully prepared for this, and nor is Mecolo. Perhaps—uh, you know—perhaps you can arrange quarters somewhere else, close by, but not in the compound, not yet, anyway.'

'You mean that you didn't tell Roda that Mecolo was on her way?' It was so farcical that Sanze wanted to laugh out loud. Fortunately, he managed to keep a straight face.

Gersina couldn't look him in the face when he replied, 'I thought that it would be better if Roda got used to the idea gradually, but—damn it, Sanze, are you going to help me or not?'

'No problem! I'll get on to it right away. By the way, is Mecolo to be accommodated as your wife, or—ah—in some other capacity?'

'As my wife, of course! Why do you think it might be otherwise?'

Sanze paused and thought carefully before he replied. Was his memory at fault when he remembered that when Gersina decided to marry Roda, Gersina was happy to acknowledge that his marriage to Mecolo had been annulled? Keeping a straight face, Sanze took his leave and went to arrange suitable quarters for Mecolo.

Sanze found Mecolo and the boy sitting in a small room near the council chamber. They were surrounded by a jumble of baggage and Mecolo looked tired and tense. When he entered, she greeted him with relief, crying, 'Sanze! It's so good to see you!'

Seeing Mecolo again brought back so many memories that Sanze struggled to keep his voice steady. He said, 'My lady, Gersina has asked me to arrange quarters for you and your son.'

'Gersina!' Her voice was sharp. 'Where is Gersina? We've been here almost half a day and we haven't seen him yet.' She swept her arm around angrily. 'We're being treated like just so many more pieces of baggage. I demand to—'

'My lady! Have patience! Gersina has been busy with matters of state. He sends his compliments and he will see you soon.'

Mecolo looked as if she was going to give vent to another outburst of frustration, as well she might. However, she bit back the words and shrugged as if she no longer knew what to believe. She sighed, then looked at Sanze appraisingly and said, 'You are looking well, Sanze.'

'So are you, my lady.' He said the words out of courtesy but not with conviction. The truth was that, apart from looking travel-weary, Mecolo looked older than her years. Her face had tightened, and her shoulders were more stooped than they should have been for a woman of her age and station. Perhaps that was to be expected: the last few years hadn't been easy for her. She had been the centre of a tug of war between Vaxili and Gersina, and she had been forced into a humiliating marriage—if it was a marriage. Then, after surviving her father's erratic reign, she had lived in the shadow of her dissolute brother. What was more, her close association with Gersina must have been a daily irritation to Aebrel, and he must have let her know it.

Sanze changed the subject, saying, 'You have a fine son, my lady.' It was true. The boy was sturdy and had an open, trusting countenance. He looked a lot like Gersina.

Mecolo stroked her son's hair and said, 'Every day, I thank Zabrazal for him. Since he was born, he has been my only consolation.'

'What is his name, my lady?'

'His name is Bedaxili.'

'Bedaxili' meant 'Beloved of Vaxili'. Sanze wondered how Gersina would feel about the name. He said cautiously, 'It is a striking name.'

Mecolo's mouth tightened and she replied without enthusiasm, 'It is the name that my father gave him.'

The air was heavy with suppressed issues and unspoken words. Sanze roused himself to activity and said, 'My lady, you need to rest. Let's move your belongings to your quarters.'

As Mecolo moved to follow him, she said, 'So, Sanze, I hear that you have become an important man in Lower Berina.'

'I am deputy commander of the army, my lady. Gersina is both commander and king.'

'Deputy commander? And only a few years ago, you were—' Mecolo stopped suddenly, as if she had caught herself on the point of committing an indiscretion. Then she gathered herself and said, 'I am fortunate to be assisted by the deputy commander.'

After the serving men had deposited the baggage and departed, Sanze introduced Mecolo to the women who would be attending to her and asked if he could be of further assistance. Ignoring the offer, Mecolo looked around suspiciously and asked, 'Do these rooms adjoin Gersina's quarters?'

'Not exactly, my lady.'

'No?'

'They are close but they don't actually adjoin them, my lady.'

'No? Where exactly are Gersina's quarters?'

Sanze pointed out of the window: 'Over there, across the courtyard.'

Mecolo's face darkened as she pushed the drape aside and peered out. She asked sharply, 'Is that where Roda lives? Does she live in those rooms with the maroon canopies?'

'My lady?'

'Oh, come now, Sanze! I know all about this creature named Roda!' Mecolo grimaced sourly. 'Do you think that I lived in a total vacuum in Thania? Don't you think that there were plenty of people who delighted in giving me news like that?' She turned away, looked out of the window again, wiped her eyes, and said, 'Well, Sanze? I asked you a question: is that where Roda lives?'

'Yes, my lady. That is where Roda lives.'

'Nearest in place, nearest in heart, as the saying goes—not so?' Mecolo turned towards him. Her eyes were moist, and she was biting her lower lip. She asked, 'Is Roda beautiful?'

'I can't say, my lady.'

'Oh, come now, Sanze—you're a man. Give me your opinion as a man.'

'I do not have opinions about women's beauty.'

'No? You used to have.'

'That was long ago, my lady. Now I choose not to have opinions about such matters.'

'Oh, Sanze, you can't forget Dana, can you?' When he didn't reply, Mecolo took his hands and said, 'I can't forget her either.'

'Please, my lady, I prefer not to speak about Dana or anything connected with her. And I must ask you never to again to speak about her with me.' He released her hands, saying, 'I must go now.'

Mecolo asked, almost pleadingly, 'And Gersina—?'

'My lady, Gersina will come to see you soon.'

As he left the room, Mecolo called after him, 'Believe me, Sanze, I wish that I could follow your example. There are things that I should put behind me as well.'

Sanze walked over to Gersina to tell him that Mecolo was settling into her quarters. Gersina was with Roda, and it was clear that they were quarrelling. Instead of greeting him, Roda tossed her head and turned away, standing with her back rigidly against them. Gersina looked at her angrily, took Sanze's arm, and walked him outside. Sanze made his report, Gersina thanked him tersely, and Sanze left.

Two weeks later, Sanze was away leading the pursuit of an Usserdite raiding party when Gersina and Kainar met again. This time, Kainar came to Oridrin, where Gersina entertained him lavishly. Kainar began his return journey only a short time before Sanze arrived back in Oridrin. Sanze was furious when he heard what had happened and demanded to see Gersina immediately.

Going straight to the point without ceremony, Sanze said, 'So, once again, you had a secret meeting with Kainar!'

'Calm down, Sanze! It was only arranged a few days ago. You were out of contact and I couldn't call you back in time.'

'Oh, yes? Or was it just very convenient?'

'Don't you believe me, Sanze?'

'What should I believe? This is the second time that this has happened.'

Gersina waved his objections away as if they were the buzzing of an annoying insect, saying, 'You can believe it or not, just as you choose.'

'And I can go to hell if I have any objections, eh?'

'I said that you may believe it or not, just as you choose.'

'What's more, you had Kainar in your grasp and you let him go!'

Gersina face tightened. He said stiffly, 'He came to negotiate. I gave him my word that he would be safe.'

'Negotiate! He came to buy time, or he came to spy! You know that he can't be trusted.'

Gersina's eyes narrowed and he retorted, 'Up until now, he has delivered what he has promised. Why shouldn't we trust him?'

Sanze thought, what has Kainar delivered so far? Mecolo? Is that all? Well, thought Sanze, you should know that there's a big difference between delivering a woman, even if she is a princess, and delivering a kingdom. Sanze suppressed the thought and replied, 'How do you know that Kainar isn't playing a double game?'

Gersina wagged a finger at Sanze, saying tersely, 'Have a care, Sanze. I am the king. You command the army; I decide on policy.'

Sanze cried in anger, 'By Zabrazal, now I see it clearly! I am the king's loyal dog, to be sent here, there, and everywhere, while the king entertains his favoured guests at his table! And for him—'

'Have a care, Sanze! I tell you, man—have a care!'

Sanze bit back his reply, knowing that he had already pushed further than Gersina would have tolerated from anyone else. He took a placatory course and said, 'Gersina, it wounds me that you sent me away while you met with Kainar. Is my advice so unreliable? Why do you exclude me when matters of state are discussed? Have I not walked the path with you so far, and am I not prepared to walk all the way with you in future?'

Gersina fingered the neck of his cloak and looked away as if he didn't have a ready answer. After a pause, he said, 'I told you the truth when I said that when you left, I didn't know that I was going to meet with Kainar.'

'But, damn it, couldn't you have waited until I got back?'

'There's no time to be lost, Sanze. Matters are moving too quickly.' Gersina put a hand on his shoulder and said in a conciliatory tone, 'Sanze, if you had been there, you would have advised me to do exactly what I did.'

'Which is—?'

'We decided that Kainar will deliver Upper Berina into our hands. Soon there will be one, unified Kingdom of Berina again.'

'How soon?'

Gersina looked Sanze in the eye and said firmly, 'Very soon.'

'And there will be one king, by name of Gersina?'

'Yes. That is so.'

'Not before time.'

'Good! We agree.'

'But with or without Kainar, Upper Berina would fall anyway.'

Gersina looked at Sanze thoughtfully. He scratched his chin and asked cautiously, 'And what of it?'

'If Upper Berina is ready to be delivered, then it is likely that Kainar is superfluous.'

Still looking at Sanze thoughtfully, Gersina responded, 'Yes, that is possible.'

They stood there facing each other, with thoughts between them that couldn't, or wouldn't, be spoken. Sanze decided to take the plunge and said, 'The unified kingdom should have only one supreme army commander.'

Gersina stroked his chin and looked at him shrewdly. He responded, 'Perhaps not. Perhaps there could be a dual command.'

'A dual command!'

'Yes. For example, one general for the western sector and one for the eastern sector.'

'One king and two generals? That would be a happy state of affairs!'

Gersina was still looking at Sanze in the same appraising way, head to one side. He said softly, 'Perhaps you are correct.'

Sanze said, 'Then perhaps Kainar is superfluous already.'

'Yes, Sanze, that could be so—ordinarily.'

'Ordinarily?'

'Yes, ordinarily. But these are extraordinary circumstances.'

'How so?'

'We will have obligations to Kainar.'

'Only because that is how he has arranged things.'

Gersina looked at Sanze through narrowed eyes, pursing his lips. He said, 'But if Kainar is superfluous to the plan—?'

'Then, Gersina, perhaps he is nothing more than an impediment even now.'

'Yes, perhaps that is true. We will have to think about it.'

'Why think about it? There is no time like the present.'

Gersina moved closer to him and said quietly, 'No time like the present, eh? Perhaps you are correct.' He put a hand on Sanze's shoulder and pressed it firmly.

They shook hands and Sanze departed without saying anything more. He knew what had to be done.

Then and there, Sanze sent a message to Kainar in Gersina's name, recalling Kainar for farther discussions. When Kainar arrived about two hours later, Sanze met him at the city gateway and took him aside, saying that he had a confidential message from Gersina. Two of Sanze's men were waiting there. They stepped forward and seized Kainar's arms, pinning them behind his back while at the same time, Sanze stabbed Kainar in the stomach, twisting the blade and forcing it in right up to the hilt. All the while, the men held the squirming Kainar upright. Although Kainar died with the third thrust, Sanze stabbed him twice more, just to make sure.

In Sanze's opinion, it was a good day's work. Not only had he avenged the death of his brother, but he had also cleared the way for Gersina to ascend to the united throne. What was more, he had eliminated any possibility of dissension over the position of army commander in the re-unified Kingdom of Berina. Yes, it was a good day's work.

It was also messy work. Kainar's blood stained Sanze's tunic and even spattered over his legs and sandals. As Sanze was washing and changing his clothes, he noticed that the blood had also stained his belt. Although he soaped the place and rubbed it vigorously with a towel, the outline of the stain never disappeared. It was always there, ink-dark against the darker leather. While Sanze was cleaning the belt, he thought of Gersina saying to him many years ago that he should wear the belt as a sign of their friendship. Well, he thought, today he had done Gersina a great service, much more than even the bond of friendship would require.

Within an hour, Gersina called a meeting of his commanders. Although he was looking composed and his voice was measured, Sanze could see that behind the veneer Gersina was simmering with excitement and anticipation. Why not? Gersina had traversed the difficult terrain of the escarpment and now the open, uplands plain stretched before him. All he had to do was walk a few more steps and he would attain his goal.

Gersina said, 'Kainar is dead. A great man of Berina has passed away.' He cleared his throat, tightened his hands on the chair in front of him, and pronounced firmly, 'I had no hand in his death. Before Zabrazal, I am innocent in this matter.' Then he said more than Sanze expected from him, and he said it with such vehemence that he was taken aback. Gersina said, 'May the blood of Kainar be on the houses of those who did this thing, and on the houses of those who assisted them, even to the second and third generations.'

There was a stir around the table. Everyone expected Gersina to deny responsibility for Kainar's death. However, no one expected him to curse the perpetrators and, what was more, to curse them so roundly and so thoroughly. Sanze was amazed and angry. He had been prepared to sit through a ritual denial, but to be cursed publicly was humiliating and undeserved. Sanze started to rise to protest but, in the face of the pensive silence around the table and Gersina's tight-mouthed determination, he thought better of it and slumped back into his chair.

Gersina caught his eye. He held it only for a moment before he dropped his gaze. In that moment, Sanze saw an acknowledgement of their complicity. But he also saw anger—and that he didn't expect. Was Gersina trying to convince himself that he, Sanze, had talked him into doing something that he didn't want to do? Was Gersina trying to convince himself that he really was innocent?

Gersina collected himself and said evenly, 'We will bury Kainar this afternoon. I expect every commander to be present.' He looked at Sanze stonily and repeated, 'Every commander will be present.' He paused and then said firmly, 'We will offer the respect that the death of a great man deserves. Rend your clothes and walk bare-footed before the body. All of Berina must see how we honour one of our nation's great men.'

Gersina led the mourning procession and put on a good show, walking before the body and prostrating himself, weeping, over the grave. He also sang an improvised song of lament at the graveside. Sanze looked on, feeling both moved and sceptical. Gersina was good at this sort of thing. He revelled in public performances and knew how to catch the popular mood. In fact, he knew how to work the crowd, how to bring emotions to fever pitch, and how to sustain them there. Today Gersina was acting the role of the populist, aflame with the mood of the people. But it was more than just an act; it was a piece of inspired drama. The poet in Gersina took flame on occasions like this and his spirit soared, just as it did with the bards and the prophets.

Mecolo also took part in the funeral procession, weeping and lamenting. Was she really weeping for Kainar who, after all, had never been anything special to her? Or was she weeping for a death that reminded her of a vanished time when she had been confident, bold, and headstrong, a princess in the house of her father, the king?

All through that afternoon, Gersina's denunciation rankled with Sanze. Finally, even although it was late evening, he went to Gersina's quarters to remonstrate with him. However, as he reached his door he turned back, thinking that it would do no good to speak to Gersina while he was in this mood. Sanze returned to his rooms and sat there alone, thinking with bitter melancholy about the people who could have advised and supported him at this time. Dana was dead and so was Abozi. Only Gersina remained of those whom he had counted as friends and comrades—and right now there was a fissure of complicity and denial between them.

For the first time in many years, Sanze ordered a flagon of wine. As he sat there sipping at the cup, he consoled himself by remembering how, after Izebol visited them, Gersina said to him, 'I need you. More than anyone, I need you.' Now, as Gersina entered new territory, surrounded by ambitions, suspicions and intrigues, he would need him more than ever. Sanze sipped at the cup again and thought yes, these things will pass, and Gersina will need him more than ever.

On an impulse—probably wine-induced—Sanze took off his belt, folded it neatly, and gave it to an attendant. He said, 'Deliver to the king immediately.'

'Is there a message, sir?'

'No. The king will know what it means.'

Although Sanze knew that he had done the right thing for the Kingdom of Berina, he couldn't help thinking about Kainar. His mind replayed the moment of Kainar's death—that moment when Kainar gasped at him, 'Sanze, you will never rest in peace.' Then Sanze plunged the dagger into Kainar's writhing body for the third and last time. Yes, that was what Kainar said: 'Sanze, you will never rest in peace.' But what did Kainar know about peace, this man who never lifted a finger when Sanze and his comrades were in prison; this man who ordered them to massacre civilians; this man who killed his brother, Abozi; this man who helped the usurper to stay on his throne? What did he know?

Sanze tried to drive his words out of his mind even as they returned to him time and again. Sanze told himself to forget about Kainar's words and to forget about the subsiding gurgle that Kainar produced as he slumped in death. Sanze knew that he had done the right thing. Repeatedly, he told himself that he had avenged the death of his brother and had cleared the way for the kingdom to be re-united. With Kainar alive, the task of building a peaceful and united Berina would have been more difficult; but now it was simple and straight-forward. What was more important than that? Sanze shrugged, put down the cup, and went to bed. He hoped desperately for a dreamless sleep, unlikely as it was.

Next morning, an attendant arrived with the belt. It had been polished and was shining with a deep lustre. With it was a note in Gersina's handwriting that read, 'Now as always, wear it as a sign of our friendship.' As Sanze turned the belt around, wondering what to do, he noticed again that the stain was still visible despite all the polishing, buffing, and rubbing. It reminded him of how much linked Gersina and him. What looked like a fissure from one point of view, from another point of view looked like two crags that were united by bedrock at their base. Sanze shrugged off his anger and buckled the belt around his waist. There was still work to do, and there were still slopes to be climbed.

The next time they met, Gersina's eyes flickered to Sanze's waist and he gave a brief nod of acknowledgement.

Within a few weeks, Upper Berina fell into Gersina's hands without Gersina having to do anything more than make a few surreptitious payments to members of the royal court. When the kingdom began to topple, there was no one to rally the army. In fact, there was no army at all. It melted away after Kainar's death. Abandoned by his soldiers and then by his courtiers, Aebrel fled to Asjolorm, the nearest Dornite city. With him went five wives, seven concubines, more than twenty retainers, and a line of donkeys bearing the royal valuables. Only the wives and the concubines reached Asjolorm alive—and they entered the city as captives, lashed to their own donkeys. Aebrel and the rest of his party were murdered along the way and the caravan was looted. It was said that the thieves and murderers were more than just ordinary criminals. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps the Dornites decided to do away with Aebrel when they recognised that he was a spent force who had no value at all, not even as a nuisance factor. Perhaps Gersina...Who knew the truth? Anyway, who cared?

Gersina's victory was complete. Once again, as they climbed higher, Sanze and Gersina were bound together by the heady experience of success. However, there was also a new bond between them. Now they were also bound by the complicity of guilt. Although Sanze didn't think about it at the time, from now onwards the linked trajectories of their lives would no longer be so direct and uncomplicated. However, the fault-lines didn't show at first, in those heady days of their ascent to power over the whole, once-more-unified Kingdom of Berina.

CHAPTER TWENTY: THE PRICE

Sanze entered the room just as Roda gave Mecolo such a shove that she hurtled back against the wall, thumping into it with a sound like a sack of grain hitting the floorboards of a wagon. Moreover, Roda didn't leave it there; she was onto Mecolo immediately, slapping, spitting, and cursing. Gersina got between them, shoving them apart, yelling at them to quit or he would have them confined to their rooms.

Sanze stood there embarrassed, not sure what to do. 'Come over to my quarters for a quiet evening,' said Gersina. 'Come over and we can relax for a while just like we used to do in the old days. Man, Sanze, do you remember how it used to be, sitting on a hillside, spinning the webs of our dreams, lying back in the grass and assuring ourselves that whatever the future held it was going to be good? And now—well, just look at us now. What's happened to us since Oridrin? Where has the time gone? Councils, stratagems, diplomacy, sitting in judgement, logistics, and goodwill visits—well, that's the way of the kingdom and it's the price we must pay for getting what we wanted, isn't it, old friend? Anyway, forget about all that and come over for a quiet evening.'

As he held Roda and Mecolo apart and yelled at them, Gersina suddenly caught sight of Sanze, standing there uncertain and embarrassed. Gersina squeezed the shoulders that he was holding so hard that both Roda and Mecolo shrieked in pain. He hissed, 'Quiet! We have company.' Gersina thrust the women apart, turned to Sanze, adjusted his robe, and said as civilly as he could, 'Sanze! I wasn't expecting you so early. Come inside.'

'Perhaps if I came back later—'

'No, no, by no means. Come in and sit down.' Gersina motioned him to a chair by the fire. Sanze settled in while Gersina went around behind the chair and talked to the women in low tones. Roda, voice raised in protest, protested, 'I will not stand for this woman and her—', while Gersina hissed, 'Enough! You will not say another word, or I will have you confined to your room. Understand?' There was silence and then Sanze heard the women walking out of the room. The footsteps were short, swift, and hard-heeled.

Gersina sat down, raised his eyebrows at Sanze, and rang a bell. A servant appeared with a flagon of wine and two cups, poured wine for each of them, and withdrew. Gersina raised his cup, looked at Sanze over the rim, and took a deep pull at his drink. Then, cradling the cup, he said, 'Welcome, Sanze.' He sipped at the wine, trying to look as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Except for the twitching of his left eyelid, to outward appearances Gersina had regained control of his emotions. However, he sat forward in his chair, head slightly to one side, as if he was tensed to spring at any new disturbance.

Sanze said as easily as he could, 'It's good to be here.'

Gersina nodded and took another deep pull at his drink. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, sighed heavily, and refilled his cup. Then he raised the flagon and looked at him enquiringly. Sanze said, 'No refill yet, thanks. I'm still busy with this one.'

Gersina said, 'You drink too slowly, Sanze. It's not companionable.' He took another deep pull at his cup.

Sanze replied, 'Oh, you know me, Gersina. I'm a slow starter. But I'm like the last sheep in the flock—I always get into the pen before the gate closes for the night.' Privately, Sanze thought that this wasn't the first time that he had seen Gersina drinking quick and deep. When did it start? He couldn't remember Gersina drinking at all when they were outlaws together in the desert. Nor could he remember Gersina drinking much, if at all, during their early days in Oridrin. Thinking back, Sanze reckoned that Gersina must have started his drinking at about the time that he ascended to the throne.

Gersina leaned forward, the yellow flecks in his eyes glinting. He said, 'Well, Sanze, it's good to have you here. Just the two of us, eh?'

Sanze raised his cup and said, 'Times change but friendship doesn't.'

Gersina grunted in acknowledgement, took another long pull at his cup, and refilled it. He sat back, raised an eyebrow, and said, 'When land and people reach the sea, eh, Sanze?' Sanze looked at him quizzically. Gersina asked, 'How far do we push the Dornites?'

'Push them? Man, Gersina, in case you haven't noticed we haven't even got them out of Berina yet.'

Gersina waved a hand, half in amusement and half in irritation. He said, 'Sanze, Sanze, you always were the cautious one.' He settled back with his cup held against his chest and asked, 'Do you doubt that we'll push them back over the escarpment within a few months?'

'Doubt it? Of course, I doubt it! I doubt the outcome of every battle and every campaign until we've got the enemy on the run. Then, when I see their backsides retreating at a fast pace, I stop doubting—for a little while at least.'

Gersina chuckled. 'Maybe you've doubted a little less during these last few weeks, eh?'

Gersina had reason to be confident. Although they hadn't defeated the Dornites, they were closing the noose on them. When Gersina was crowned King of Berina, the Dornites not only occupied a sizeable piece of Upper Berina but were also exacting tribute in lieu of seizing more land. It was the arrangement that they imposed on the weak-willed Aebrel, and it was the way in which they intended that things should continue. Just to make sure that there wasn't any misunderstanding about their intentions, the Dornites didn't wait for Gersina to settle in. Before he had even been crowned, a Dornite army advanced from the south, burning and looting as it came. Fortunately, the new Army of Berina was able to hold the Dornites to a stalemate during a day-long battle. However, although it was a stalemate, it was a moral victory for Berina. For the first time in a long while, a Dornite army had been halted.

Sanze and Gersina didn't wait for the Dornites to regroup. Using the experience that they gained in the desert, they began mobilising the inhabitants of the occupied territory to harass the Dornites. Soon the countryside was so unsafe for the Dornite forces that they had to travel in large numbers or not travel at all. More than that, the profits of their occupation were drastically reduced as traders and caravans were captured and looted. The Dornites were forced to protect themselves by retreating behind fortified positions in the occupied towns, and by going to the trouble and expense of sending out only large caravans under heavy guard. The occupation of Upper Berina was becoming an expensive and troublesome business for the Dornites.

Gersina leaned back in his chair and said in a relaxed voice, 'We've forced them onto the back foot, Sanze. Now we have to put a wedge between their garrisons and their heartland.'

'You have a plan?'

Gersina ran a finger around the edge of his cup and said thoughtfully, 'Another attack on Asjolorm, perhaps?' Sanze raised his eyebrows. Gersina continued, 'Why don't we tackle them on two fronts? We could ravage Asjolorm and cut their supply lines while we take on their garrisons one by one.'

'It might work.'

'Think about it, Sanze.' Gersina waved his cup at Sanze unsteadily. 'We'll talk about it tomorrow, eh? No more business tonight. All right?'

Sometime during the evening, Gersina picked up a small bag and took out a sling. He shook out pebbles from the bag and asked, 'How about it, Sanze? Are you still up to it?'

'Here?'

'Why not? Isn't the king allowed to have some fun?' Gersina waved a hand airily. 'The king proposes and the king disposes, not so?' Gersina rang a bell and a servant came in with a bucket, draped a blanket over a sideboard, and ranged the contents of the bucket on top. There were seven short pieces of wood, planed and varnished, each the thickness of two fingers, and mounted on small bases. The targets were pitted all over, testifying to how often they had been used.

Sanze observed, 'You are well prepared.'

Gersina gave him a slow smile and replied, 'The king should always be prepared.' He stood back, crouched, whirled the sling, and let fly. The pebble missed its target and clattered against the stone wall behind the sideboard. Gersina cursed, drank some wine, took aim again, and let fly. This time he hit the target. At the end of the round, he had hit five out of the seven targets. Gersina tossed the sling to Sanze, saying, 'Your turn now.'

'I'm not in practice. I won't be much good.'

Gersina grunted. 'Huh! That's what you always used to say, and you were always better than you claimed.'

Sanze replied, 'But never as good as you.' In the event, he surprised himself by hitting three of the first four targets at which he aimed. Opting for caution, he deliberately missed one of the last three targets. Gersina grinned at him, raised his cup in salute, and said, 'It's a tie! Hail to the general.'

Later, they had a few more rounds with the sling. Watching Gersina crouch, eyes narrowed, balanced on the balls of his feet, the years fell away and Sanze glimpsed the youthful Gersina out on the hillside taking aim at targets placed on top of a rock. He said something like that to Gersina who responded by grunting and letting fly with such force that the pebble sliced a sliver off the target and then shattered against the wall.

Surprisingly, despite the wine, Gersina's aim improved until during his last round he hit six out of seven targets. Still cautious, Sanze made sure that he never exceeded Gersina's score in any round. Afterwards, Gersina lay back in his chair and spoke about the days when they roamed the hills looking after the sheep. He concluded by saying, 'When land and people reach the sea, eh?' He tossed the sling in the palm of his hand, looked at it pensively, and asked, 'Are we safe now, Sanze?'

'Not as safe as we should be—but safer than we were not long ago.'

Gersina grunted, 'Huh! Maybe that's true. But there's one enemy that's always with us, always working to destroy us. Do you know what that is, eh?' Sanze shook his head. Gersina looked at him with half-closed eyes and pronounced, 'Complacency, Sanze, complacency! That's the enemy that is always at the gates.'

It was after midnight when they parted. Gersina was drunk, while Sanze had imbibed enough to fear that he would have a sore head in the morning. Sanze shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it and started to walk across the courtyard. Suddenly, he felt a light touch on his arm and a voice hissed, 'Sanze!' He turned and peered at the hooded figure standing next to him. It was Mecolo. She put a finger over his lips, took his arm, led him to a corner of the courtyard, and opened a door. Inside, Mecolo threw back the hood. By the light of the lamps, he could see that her eyes were red, and her expression was strained.

Mecolo said in a tight voice, 'I need to talk to you, Sanze.'

'It's late, my lady.'

'It'll only take a few minutes.' She put a hand on his arm. 'Please—only a few minutes?' He nodded—what else could he do? —and she pointed to a chair by the table. Mecolo sat down across the corner from him, leaning forward with folded arms. She forced a smile and asked, 'How are you, Sanze?'

'Me? I'm fine. How are you, my lady?'

'Oh, Sanze, we've known each other for a long time. We're old friends. Can't we just be Sanze and Mecolo to each other?'

He thought, old friends? Just plain Sanze and Mecolo? Well, that was never possible, was it? Once she was a king's daughter and he was a mere soldier or, at most, a deputy commander. Now she was a king's wife. Gersina might be his oldest friend—but he had no illusions. Things weren't the same between them as in the old days. Nowadays Gersina was king first and he was his general. Those things counted more than the fact that they were old friends and comrades.

Mecolo leaned forward and asked, 'Well, Sanze? Can't we be just old friends together?'

'I'm always at your service, my lady.'

Mecolo winced and drew back. She dabbed at the corners of her eyes and asked stiffly, 'How is Gersina?'

'When I left him, he was well.'

'Drunk again, I'm sure.'

'We did enjoy some wine together, for old time's sake.'

Mecolo sat back and looked at him keenly. She said, 'Oh, Sanze, Gersina has you for a friend, a very good friend, and I have no one.' She dabbed at her eyes again and then suddenly burst out, 'I can't take it anymore! I simply cannot take it!'

'My lady?'

'You saw what happened! That loose-mouthed, sway-hipped creature speaks to me worse than she would to a serving girl in her father's kitchen! And Gersina—!'

'Calm yourself, my lady.'

Mecolo brushed him aside and cried out, 'And Gersina supports her. It's them against me—always them against me. You saw what happened, didn't you? You could see it was them against me.'

'I'm afraid I hardly saw anything at all. I just arrived and—'

'Oh, don't pretend you don't know what's going on just because you're Gersina's friend.'

'My lady, I am truly sorry that you are distressed.'

'Why did he want me back with him? If this was how I was going to be treated, why didn't he just leave things the way they were? Why?'

'I suppose he brought you back because you are his wife and the mother of his child.'

'Oh, that's charitable! Do you know what I think? I think that he brought me back to humiliate me for what my father did to him. No, don't shake your head. I know it to be the case.'

'My lady, he—'

'Well, I can understand why he treats me like this. I hate it, but I can understand it. But why does he humiliate our son? The boy has nothing to do with his grandfather. Nothing! Nothing at all! On the contrary—my father despised him because he was Gersina's son. Don't be fooled by his name Bedaxili, "Beloved of Vaxili". That was nothing but a piece of cruel irony—a name to annoy Gersina! The truth is, my father hated his grandson.' Mecolo pressed her fists against her temples, closed her eyes, and bit her bottom lip. Then she thumped a fist on the table and cried, 'I will not have my son suffer because of what lies between Gersina and me!' She put her head on her hands and sobbed.

Sanze was embarrassed. Also, he was at a loss about how to respond. He said inadequately, 'My lady, calm yourself. Gersina has a lot on his mind. He's a busy man. Perhaps you are reading too much into the situation.'

'He's not too busy to take sides, though!' Mecolo raised her head and fired the words at Sanze. Then she sat up, straightened her back, and wiped her eyes. She shook her head briskly and said, 'I am the daughter of a king, and I am the wife of a king—and look at me! Just look at me, Sanze—weeping in my room in the dark hours of the night. But I tell you one thing, for sure, Sanze—no one will ever see me weep outside this room.'

'I understand, my lady.'

'No, Sanze, you don't. You think I'm weeping for myself. Well, perhaps I am, to some extent. But if I am, then I am ashamed. I will not allow myself to indulge in self-pity. No, Sanze, I am weeping for our son.' Mecolo gave him a fierce look. 'Bedaxili is heir to the throne. That is what concerns me. You understand?'

'I think that I do.'

Mecolo's eyes softened and she leaned forward as if trying to coax sympathy out of Sanze. She asked, 'Will you support me in this, Sanze?'

'Support you, my lady? How?'

Mecolo's eyes were still red-rimmed but now they were sharp, and her gaze was direct. She said slowly and distinctly, 'There should be no doubt about succession. Bedaxili is Gersina's oldest son and that should be the end of the matter.'

'That is so, my lady.'

'Ah! But who knows what that creature might be planning for her own sons?' Mecolo put a hand over Sanze's and said softly, 'That is what concerns me, Sanze.' Sanze retracted his hand, sat back, and looked at her in consternation. He wasn't certain of what exactly she wanted from him, but whatever it was, he wasn't happy about the direction in which she was heading. Mecolo smiled wryly and said, 'Oh, Sanze, don't look at me like that. You're always so correct and proper, aren't you? I'm not asking you to do anything subversive. I'm just asking you to do what is right.'

'And what is right in this case?'

'What's right is very simple—you should support the legitimate heir to the throne.'

Sanze took some time to think about the matter. Of course, in one sense it was a simple matter, an open and shut case. Bedaxili was the legitimate heir to the throne. Nothing could change Bedaxili's status as Gersina's first-born son. That fact stood out like a beacon on a hill. However, Sanze had a skin-prickling, uneasy sense that the beacon did not have solid foundations. He replied cautiously, 'Any challenge to your son's status as heir to the throne would be bad for Berina.'

Mecolo pursed her lips and looked at him appraisingly. She cried, 'Yes, exactly! That's what concerns me. Yes, that's it—exactly!'

'Then, my lady, we understand each other.'

Mecolo's face brightened. However, her eyes were sharp and shrewd when she said, 'My father couldn't keep Berina together. Now Gersina has another chance. If we love Berina, then we must ensure that the kingdom doesn't come to the same sad end. You agree, don't you?'

'I do, my lady. We have struggled too hard and suffered too much to see the kingdom fall apart again.'

Mecolo leaned forward, hands clasped together, and said, 'Oh, Sanze, you're a dark horse, aren't you?'

'My lady?'

'Trustworthy, brave, dependable Sanze! But underneath that stoical front you have a grand vision, don't you?'

'My lady, I do have one vision, and one vision only—the dream of Berina, safe, secure, and dignified. That is my only vision.'

Mecolo stood up and smoothed down her robe. As she did so, briefly stretching the fabric across her breasts and easing it down her hips, he caught a glimpse of the younger Mecolo in a time that seemed both near and remote. Also, thinking of that time, catching a glimpse of Mecolo's womanly form, he remembered a time when he lay on a hillside under the clouds with someone whose tunic stretched across a shape that generated a shock of lightning across the ridges of his body. The thought flashed through him only for a moment, before he shook his head to clear it of such distractions.

Mecolo looked at him speculatively before she said, 'Dana would have been proud of you, Sanze. What a pity that—'

'My lady! I am always at your service. But, once again, I must ask you one thing—please never speak about Dana.'

'I'm sorry, Sanze.'

'The fact is, as I said to you, I have only one dream and one aspiration. Everything else is behind me. There are doors that have shut, and they will remain shut.'

'I understand, Sanze.'

'Thank you for understanding, my lady.'

They walked to the door. There Mecolo laid a hand on his arm and said, 'We do understand each other in more ways than one, don't we, Sanze?'

'We understand each other in all ways that tend towards the good of Berina, my lady.'

Sanze walked across the dark courtyard. His head was clear—no trace of wine-induced dullness now, he was pleased to note—but he felt desperately tired. Well, there was a reason for that, wasn't there? He was an early-to-bedder and now it was two hours past midnight. However, he knew that wasn't the main reason. The fact was that his conversation with Mecolo brought home to him how wearisome it was to climb the heights to the top of the long-beckoning peak, only to find that broken, upland country stretched for infinity beyond that. What was more, the peak had always been clear and sharply defined. But now the country beyond it seemed to be shrouded and threatening, requiring ever more effort and ever more wariness as they picked their way across it

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE: TIME TO SETTLE DOWN

Sanze recognised him immediately, the moment he entered the room. There was no hiding his half-severed right ear, red hair, and granite-contoured features. Of course, he looked older. Time had brought streaks of grey to his hair as well as rotundity to his formerly square frame.

'Zaliek! By all that's wonderful, it's you!'

Zaliek grinned at Sanze as he grasped his hands, saying in his characteristically deep growl, 'It's been a long time. The last time I saw you, you were a deputy commander recovering from a fever and looking like death itself. And now you're General Sanze, commander in chief of the Berinian forces!'

'How long has it been? Almost twenty years? Is that right?'

Zaliek nodded and continued to grin at him. 'Twenty years is about right.'

Sanze motioned Zaliek to a chair. Zaliek put down his helmet, took off his breastplate, and sat down with his knees apart and his hands resting squarely on his thighs. Sanze took the chair opposite him, across the corner of the table. They sat there looking each other up and down, grinning with pleasure. Sanze said, 'I should have known that you would turn up sooner or later. I was thinking about you just the other day.'

'Pleasant thoughts, I hope?'

'Pleasant now that I look back on the events, for sure! Last week I rode along the road south of Thania. For some reason, I started thinking about the march on the night before the first battle of Gandonda. Do you remember?'

'Remember? Man, how can I forget it? It was chaos! It was more like a cattle stampede than an army on the march.'

Sanze grinned as memories came flooding back to him. 'The men dived for cover in the bush when the first messenger on a horse came past them. You yelled, "How the hell do you think you're going to stand up to the Dornite cavalry when you run like children from a single horse?" You had to kick some members of the squad in the backsides to get them moving again.'

Zaliek chuckled and said, 'You were a lot of greenhorns. It's a wonder you weren't all completely wiped out. And as for that idiot Vaxili, taking you into battle with no strategy except advance in line abreast, if you can call that a strategy—' Zaliek shook his head in disbelief and said, 'Berinian armies are better organised these days, from what I hear.'

'We have the Dornites under control.'

'Looks like you learned something in basic training, eh?'

'Oh, I don't know about that. I learned that the best thing about basic training was getting out of basic training.'

They sat there grinning appraisingly at each other until Zaliek grunted and said, 'I hardly recognised Thania—paved streets, a market place, fine houses—it looks like a capital city at last.' Zaliek shook his head in admiration and pointed out of the window. 'And look at that—the royal palace! What a change, eh? When I was here last, the palace consisted of a few old houses with a compound wall around them. And now—just look at it!'

Sanze gestured to the map on the wall behind the table and said, 'The palace is bigger and so is Berina.'

Zaliek peered at the map and asked, 'Wasn't there a saying about land and people reaching the sea?'

'The saying was, "Berina only shall be free, when land and people meet the sea." It was a prophecy by the oracle at Osighina.'

Still peering at the map, Zaliek observed, 'Well, General Sanze, Berina has reached the sea in a big way, hasn't it? How many independent Dornite cities are left?'

'Only one.'

'Only one? Let me guess—that's Durgenu's territory, isn't it?' Sanze nodded while Zaliek shook his head admiringly. 'The crafty old bastard! He always did know how to walk on the edge of the ravine without falling in.'

Sanze replied, half sincerely and half deprecatingly, 'Berina punishes her enemies and rewards her friends.'

Zaliek raised his eyebrows at him sardonically. Then he gave a short laugh, pointed at the map, and asked, 'That green blotch down in the south-east—is all of that Durgenu's territory? Sanze nodded. Zaliek whistled admiringly and observed, 'I hope he deserves a reward as big as that.'

Sanze replied, 'When we were outcasts in the desert, Durgenu gave us supplies and took care of our families. In fact, he took special care of my mother. Later, when we needed arms and equipment for Lower Berina, Durgenu provided them. He also provided us with mercenaries. More than that, he's stayed out of every war that we have ever fought against the Dornites'

Zaliek put up his hands and laughed. 'Oh, Durgenu is a noble soul, all right. From what you say, he deserves whatever he's been given as well as a few medals on top of it.' Zaliek got to his feet, walked over to the map, and hauled out something from the folds of his tunic. With the contraption held to his nose, he peered at the map.

Sanze asked, 'Zaliek, what in heaven's name is that?'

Zaliek held it out for Sanze to see. 'This is called a pair of spectacles.' Seeing the look on Sanze's face, Zaliek chuckled deeply and asked, 'Never seen anything like it before, have you?'

Sanze looked closely at the contraption, which consisted of two round pieces of glass separated by a curved bridge and held in place with a slender metal frame. Sanze asked, 'What's it for?'

Zaliek balanced it on Sanze's nose and said, 'Look at the map.' As Sanze peered through the pieces of glass, Zaliek asked, 'Do you see any difference?'

'Maybe!' Sanze pushed the contraption more firmly onto his nose, peered again, and said, 'Things seem to be a bit clearer.'

'Only a bit clearer? That shows the difference in our ages, General Sanze. In my case, I couldn't see any of the smaller details without it.'

Sanze gave the spectacles back to him, sat down, and asked, 'Where did you get them?'

Zaliek held the spectacles up to the light, breathed on them, wiped them carefully with the hem of his tunic, and put them away. He said, 'I got them in Wejigara. There are some clever people there.'

'Wejigara, eh? That's a long way from here.'

Zaliek looked at Sanze keenly and asked, 'Have you had dealings with Wejigara?'

'They sent a diplomatic delegation to visit us about five years ago. We entertained them, held discussions, and then waved goodbye.'

'What did they want?'

'As far as we could see, they were just here to sniff around and see if there was any profit to be got out of us.'

Zaliek snorted. 'Sounds like Wejigara, all right. They're a sharp lot.'

'How do you know about Wejigara?'

'I've just arrived from Wejigara. I was living there.'

'Are you going back?'

Zaliek shook his head. 'No. I can't take that mountain climate any longer. Even in the middle of summer, the wind cuts through you like an icy knife. And as for the winters—' He shook his head and continued, 'I finished my second contract with them and decided that it was time to settle down somewhere warmer.' Zaliek sat back and looked at Sanze expectantly.

'Somewhere like Berina?'

'It's a lot warmer than Wejigara, that's for sure.'

Sanze teased Zaliek by saying, 'We're not training new recruits to fight the Dornites any more, Commander Zaliek. We have the Dornites under control.'

'But what about the Usserdites? Are they also under control?' Zaliek looked at Sanze shrewdly.

'The Usserdites? Well, of course, they're a restless lot. With them, we can't take anything for granted.'

Zaliek pointed at the map and chuckled knowingly. 'Especially now that you've pushed them back from the Great River, eh?'

'We need the Western River Strip for our own people, not to mention our own security.'

Zaliek got up, put the spectacles on his nose, and looked at the map. He whistled in surprise. 'You've taken a lot of territory on the other of side the river, haven't you?'

'We had an ancestral claim to it.'

'You did?'

'Of course! In the old days, when the People of Berina were on the move, we occupied most of that territory.'

Zaliek asked sceptically, 'By permission of the local inhabitants?'

'By right of conquest.'

'What happened after that?'

'The Usserdites forced our people out about a hundred years ago. They colluded with the Dornites.'

Zaliek raised his eyebrows. 'Colluded with the Dornites, eh? And I guess they've never been forgiven for it?'

'Forgiveness is not the issue. The point is that we've taken back what belongs to us—and that's the end of the matter.'

Zaliek sat down, sniffed, scratched his nose, and asked, 'Do you have place for one more commander in your army?'

'Are you referring to someone who tried to make soldiers out of a bunch of Vaxili's first recruits?'

'Yes, that's the sort of person that I had in mind.'

'Someone who tried to teach some of the same soldiers to ride horses, even if all they knew about animals was herding sheep and riding on wagons?'

'You've got it, General Sanze. That sounds exactly like the person that I've got in mind.'

Sanze asked, 'Would a two-year contract do?'

Zaliek frowned and scratched his head. 'To tell the truth, I was thinking of something longer than that. It's time for me to settle down.'

'The peripatetic Commander Zaliek wants to settle down? Well, that is news!'

Zaliek shifted self-consciously and said, 'The fact is, I have a reason for wanting to settle down. I have a wife and son.'

'You have? Where are they?'

'We're staying at an inn just down the road.'

'I'd like to meet them.'

'My wife would like to meet you, too. I've told her a lot about you.'

'What about your son? Doesn't he also want to meet his father's old comrade in arms, the famous General Sanze?'

Zaliek's face brightened even more at the mention of his son. He said, 'One day he'll hear all about you, but right now he's a bit young. He's only two years old.'

Sanze looked at Zaliek, sitting there with his weathered face alight with pleasure. Images of the past came to his mind. He visualised Zaliek bellowing at them on the parade ground, Zaliek leading their unit to safety after the first battle of Gandonda, Zaliek sitting with him outside the sick bay when he was recovering from the fever... Sanze responded, 'Yes, I guess that we could consider something a lot longer than a two-year contract. I'll talk to Gersina.'

'How is Gersina?'

'Gersina? Oh, he's all right. He's got a lot on his mind, big responsibilities—you know how it is, heavy is the head that wears the crown, and so on—he gets distracted sometimes. But, basically, he's fine. Of course, he'll want to see you when he's got time.' Sanze stood up and said, 'I'll see what he can do. Perhaps we could meet at about the same time tomorrow?'

Zaliek got to his feet, shook his hand warmly, and said, 'Thank you, comrade. I appreciate it.'

At the door, Sanze asked Zaliek, 'How long were you in Wejigara?'

'About twenty years.'

'You went there straight from—?'

'That's right. When Vaxili locked up you and your mates, I knew that it wouldn't be long before they came for me as well. I got out of Berina right away.'

Next morning, on his way to the headquarters building, Sanze stopped at the inn where Zaliek was staying. He was curious to see Zaliek's family. In fact, he could hardly believe that Zaliek really had a wife and child. Sanze always thought of Zaliek as the quintessential mercenary, a loner who would keep himself free to move on to the next assignment once he had exhausted the possibilities in the current situation. More than that, in Sanze's mind, Zaliek always seemed to be a rough-and-tumble sort of fellow whose identity was completely bound up with his comrades and with his profession. And now Zaliek was a family man. He had to see it for himself.

When Sanze arrived, Zaliek and his family were eating breakfast. Zaliek jumped to his feet, shook his hand, and asked in a low voice, 'Have you spoken to Gersina?'

Sanze said, 'I'm seeing him later today. I'll let you know as soon as we've got something arranged for you. Don't worry, it will be all right.'

Zaliek relaxed and gestured to the table. He said, 'Meet my family.'

Zaliek's wife was a beauty. Sanze literally stopped in his tracks when he got his first look at her. However, it was not only her good looks that stopped him, but the fact that she reminded him so much of Dana. She had the same small build, the same athletic, compact body, and the same luminous eyes. Of course, there were differences. Trani had the darker skin and the purple-tinged black curly hair of the people of the distant south-western interior. Also, her eyes pulled at the corners, so that she looked like a sleek animal: an otter or a fox, perhaps. Later, as Sanze got to know her, he came to think of her as an animal that was always curled up within itself, alert and self-aware even when it appeared to be relaxed.

When Zaliek introduced, Sanze took her hand and muttered a few words of welcome while she looked up at him calmly, smiled gravely, and said, 'So this is General Sanze. It is a great pleasure to meet you at last. Zaliek has told me so much about you.'

Sanze said something awkward like, 'Only good things, I hope.' Even as he said the words, he knew that they didn't sound clever or original. He remembered another woman who made him gauche and tongue-tied when he wanted to make a good impression, and he cursed himself inwardly. He felt even sillier when he noticed that Zaliek was looking at him curiously. Then Zaliek took Sanze's arm and said, 'Sit down and join us.' As Zaliek moved him away, Sanze realised that he had been standing there wide-eyed, holding Trani's hand, saying nothing after his first vapid words.

Sanze tried to cover his tracks by muttering, 'So Zaliek really is married? I can hardly believe it.' He sat down across the table from them while Zaliek put his arm around Trani, laughed mischievously, and said, 'Look at Sanze's face! He didn't believe me when I said that I had a wife.'

Sanze responded, 'It is a big surprise.'

Zaliek asked, 'Well, what do you think of her, then?' He sat back and looked at his wife, stroking the hair at the nape of her neck.

Sanze replied, 'I'm pleased to see you all looking so happy.'

Zaliek snapped his fingers and said, 'You haven't met my son. His name is Dipok.' Sanze leaned over and shook the little fellow's hand. Zaliek said, 'Looks like his father, eh?'

Sanze responded, 'No, on the contrary! He's too handsome for that. His father is a weather-beaten, rough-faced old rogue, so he must take after his mother.'

Trani lowered her eyes modestly and Zaliek laughed in delight. 'That's good, that's good! It makes me happy to hear it. The more he has of his mother, the luckier he'll be. All he needs from me is a big chest and arms like hams. The rest he can get from his mother.'

Trani ran a hand down Zaliek's cheek and said softly, 'Oh, Zaliek, you are a big fool. The more your son is like you, the more I'll love him. You know that.'

That silenced Zaliek. Sanze thought that he looked just like a lovesick youth. Not for the first time, Sanze wondered at how a boisterous, vigorous, self-confident man could be made tractable by a touch, a glance, and a word from a woman. Thinking of this and looking at Trani, Sanze thought that perhaps if Dana had lived, he would have understood. He shook his head to get the thought out of his mind. It was vain and painful speculation.

Zaliek took his son onto his lap, rubbed his chin against the boy's head, and said fondly, 'Ah, he's our son, and he'll be all right. He's got a father to teach him how to take care of himself and a mother to teach him all the finer things in life. Life will be his for the picking.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: DECISIONS

Zaliek accepted the offer of a position as senior commander on an indefinite contract. However, Zaliek set one condition—that, just as in the past, he would never be required to take up arms against the Dornites. Sanze said, 'Zaliek, before we accept your condition, you should explain the matter. We have a right to know why we're making an exception for you.'

Zaliek told Sanze his story. He was born the youngest son of a chief of one of the tribes that comprised the federation of Bakuel, which was located about five day's travel to the south of Kitilat. His father died when Zaliek was twenty years of age. The body was prepared for disposal in the traditional way, by burning it on a pyre. Furthermore, also following tradition, Zaliek's mother would die in the same fire.

Zaliek's mother was born and raised somewhere else, the daughter of a chief, and her marriage was arranged to cement a political alliance. Although the marriage was a happy one, on the night before the funeral, she came to Zaliek and, amid weeping and trembling, said, 'My son, I cannot do it. It's not my tradition. I don't have the strength to face the flames.' What was Zaliek to do? As one of the chief's sons, he was expected to uphold the traditions of the clan. In fact, whatever his misgivings, he had been prepared to be present at the funeral, taking part in the traditional ceremonies while his parents, united in death as in life, ascended to the gods amid the flames. It was the ages-old way, and no one ever questioned it. But now his own mother was begging him to find a way out for her.

It was one of the most difficult decisions that Zaliek ever made. If he didn't help his mother, he would always be haunted by the thought that he had betrayed her. If he did help her, he would be an outcast. Wracked by doubt, after considering all the options, he gave in to his mother's request and took her away that night.

But where to go? First, they tried to find refuge in her homeland. They wouldn't accept her there, fearing the consequences. Next, they went to Kitilat and stayed there for a while. However, Zaliek's brothers tracked them down and demanded that they should be returned to the clan to be punished. Kitilat had good relations with the nations of the interior, and there was a strong possibility that the King of Kitilat would surrender Zaliek and his mother. Once again, they fled. This time, they travelled down the coast until they arrived at Griwasta, a Dornite city, where Zaliek enlisted as a mercenary.

Zaliek said, 'We lived there for four years. After all that time, we thought that we were safe. But my brothers finally tracked us down there as well.'

'Why did they go to all that trouble?'

Zaliek replied, 'They believed that our father's spirit wouldn't rest in peace until our mother was sacrificed in the traditional manner. What's more, they said that the people were being haunted by my father's spirit: crops were withering, cattle and sheep were dying of diseases, and so on.'

'Did you believe those things?'

Zaliek shrugged. 'I used to believe in the old traditions and the old notions. That was before I had to make a choice.' He grunted sceptically and tugged at his ear. 'Nowadays, I think it's just ignorance and superstition, plain and simple. A man should learn to think for himself, not so?' He grinned ironically. 'Why are we the only ones whose spirits don't rest in peace if their wives don't die with them? Why is it that the spirits of Dornite men, the men of Kitilat, and the men of every other nation that I've ever encountered, don't get restless if their wives don't die with them?' Zaliek spread his hands and continued, 'You can say that I'm just finding excuses for helping my mother. Maybe I am. But I'll tell you one thing—I can't speak for other people's restless spirits, but I sure as hell would have a restless spirit if I had abandoned my mother when she appealed to me for assistance.'

They sat there quietly for a time before Sanze said, 'You're a dark horse, aren't you?' Zaliek raised his eyebrows. Sanze continued, 'I was thinking about the time you warned me about Vaxili's intentions.'

'It didn't do any good, did it? Vaxili was too quick.'

'That makes no difference. You took a risk by warning me.'

Zaliek said bluntly, 'I'd do the same for a friend any time.'

Friend? Sanze had never thought of Zaliek as his friend. In the old days, he respected Zaliek as a soldier and as an instructor—as a man, too, come to that—but there was always a professional distance between them. Friend? For sure, Zaliek was a dark horse. Sanze concealed his thoughts by saying, 'I was just thinking about the old days. Sorry, I interrupted you. You were telling me about you and your mother in Griwasta.'

Zaliek settled back in his chair and continued, 'My brothers sent messengers to ask that we should be handed over to them. Although I thought that we were safe, it wasn't too long before I sensed that the city fathers were giving serious thought to the matter.'

Sanze asked, 'What reason could a Dornite city have to give in to a demand made by a place that they probably couldn't find on a map?'

Zaliek said gloomily, 'Don't underestimate the power of money.' His face clouded, his mouth tightened, and he continued, 'The magistrates in Griwasta put my mother under guard.' He gave a short laugh. 'They called it protective custody. I knew that I would be next, so I decided to get my mother out of there and move on.'

'Easier said than done?'

'For sure!' Zaliek smiled grimly. 'The guards didn't take kindly to my demand that they should release my mother. I killed two of them, but the third grabbed hold of my mother.' His lips tightened. 'That was when my mother died.'

'The guard killed your mother?'

Zaliek's said in a low voice, 'I killed her.'

'What? You killed her?'

'It was an accident. When I attacked the guard, he pushed my mother in front of him and my sword went through her.' Zaliek's voice rose. 'I just about went crazy. I killed that guard—damn near hacked him to pieces. Then I tried to carry my mother out of there. I thought that she might still be alive or, if not, that I should give her a proper burial. Anyway, to cut a long story short, they chased me and wounded me. Have you ever wondered where I lost half my ear? Well, I left it behind that day in Griwasta.' Zaliek's eyes clouded. 'I got away, but I had to leave my mother behind. She was dead anyway, but—oh, damn it, at least I could have buried her properly.' Zaliek slammed a fist on the table and cried out, 'Do you know what they did with her body? They threw it down an old well. It was called the Pauper's Well. Just like that—threw her body down a well!'

There was a long silence before Zaliek said quietly, 'You remember what I told you a long time ago, during basic training—a soldier should forget about resentment and revenge?'

'I remember. You said that they get in the way of clear thinking.'

Zaliek nodded. 'That's the real reason why I won't fight against the Dornites. Those reasons that you heard from me a long time ago, about what the Dornites would do to me if they captured me—well, they are true, but they aren't the real reasons. The fact is, if I did fight against them, I might go crazy—battle-crazy, battle-lust, whatever it's called. Maybe that's all right for an ordinary soldier, but for an officer...' He shook his head. 'I couldn't take the risk. It would be dangerous for my men. It would be unprofessional.'

When Zaliek rented a house in Thania and settled down with his family, Sanze got into the habit of dropping in to see them, often staying for a meal. Trani was a vegetarian whose dishes were so tasty that he forgot that meat, one of Berina's staple foods, was missing from what he ate at her table. While they ate, she would tell him about Wejigara. Sanze learned about the pine forests, the houses made of pitch and wood, and the terraced fields of wheat and mustard seed next to broad rivers in deep valleys. After the meal, they would relax with mugs of honey-flavoured liquor, a specialty of Wejigara, while Dipok fell asleep on Trani's lap. Then, when Trani left the room to put the boy to bed, Zaliek would say softly, 'Dipok is a fine lad, isn't he? What's more, he's smart. Anybody can see that. You know, one day I'm going to send him to the Academy of Philosophy. He'll be a gentleman and a scholar, not a rolling stone like his father. His grandfather was a chief, and he deserves the best that I can give him.' Although Zaliek never spoke about Trani, not overtly anyway, Sanze could see how Zaliek's eyes followed Trani wherever she went and how he lingered behind her chair, touching her shoulder or caressing her hair at the nape.

Sometimes Sanze felt guilty about visiting them. He liked to be with Zaliek, but the fact was that Trani enhanced the attraction of his visits. She reminded him so much of Dana that sometimes he had to stop himself from calling her 'Dana'. Trani would catch him looking at her and she would drop her eyes. Then she would glance at him quickly, slightly sideways with her head tilted, in just the manner that Dana used to do. As she did so, Trani would smile secretively. When she did that, Sanze would curse himself silently. Damn it, did Trani think that he was flirting with her? But, then, what else was she to think when she caught him staring at her so intently? What else was she to think when, having caught his eye, she saw him turn away in confusion?

There was something else about Trani that interested him, and that was that he couldn't properly work out how she felt about Zaliek. Her only response to Zaliek's touches and affectionate words was a small smile of acknowledgement that was almost condescending, as if she thought that these things were no more than her due and, moreover, were of little consequence. When Sanze complimented her on her cooking, she would say tightly, 'We do our best with what we have.' She said it in a way that suggested that she regretted not having finer and better things at her disposal although, in fact, he couldn't see that she had any reason to complain. On the contrary: as they settled in, more expensive items began to appear in the house, such as thick-piled carpets, embroidered wall hangings, and delicate glassware. Trani wore robes made of the finest material that was imported from the best looms of Kitilat and, in addition, their house was in the most expensive district of Thania, close to the palace. Sanze knew what Zaliek earned and he wondered how he could afford to spend at such a rate.

On the other hand, as a housewife and as a mother, Trani seemed to be irreproachable. She ran the house quietly and efficiently without any fuss. Perhaps she arranged her son's life rather too much like the way that she ran the house, quietly and efficiently; however, the boy was always well dressed, well behaved, and treated with affection. Most importantly, he looked happy.

Although Trani often spoke about her homeland, she never spoke about her own background. Instead, Sanze learned about her from things that Zaliek said. Trani was the youngest daughter of a small farmer. When Zaliek met her, she was serving food and drink in a tavern. From Zaliek's jocular references to their courtship, it appeared that she actively encouraged Zaliek's advances. Four months after they met, they were married, against the wishes of her parents who didn't like the idea of their daughter marrying a stranger, and a wandering mercenary, at that. Sanze often wondered why Trani married Zaliek, who was about twenty years older than her and came from a different culture and background. Did Trani really fall in love with this big, gruff, roughly-kind fellow, or did she view him as a means of escape from the isolated and confining valley in which she was born and raised? Was there some other reason? Sanze never knew the answer.

Once Sanze called at the house when Zaliek was out. As he made his excuses and turned to go, Trani said winningly, 'Oh, Sanze, don't be so prim and proper! Zaliek will be back soon. Come inside and wait for him.'

Sanze hesitated and then yielded. Trani served him refreshments and then excused herself. When she came back a few minutes later, she was wearing earrings and a richly brocaded robe. It had a scalloped, low-cut neck and was gathered under her breasts so that his gaze was drawn to the smooth expanse of her chest and the curve of her bosom. She caught his eye, laughed lightly, and put her hand to her chest. Then she laughed again and fluttered her hand while she asked if he would like a mug of lemon juice.

Sanze took the mug, sipped at it, and asked, 'Where is Dipok?'

'Dipok? Oh, he's asleep. He usually takes a nap at this time.'

Sanze felt even more uncomfortable and said, 'I really can't stay for long. I'll call again this evening when Zaliek is home.'

Trani wrinkled her nose and frowned, looking both annoyed and amused. She said, 'Oh, Sanze, you've only just arrived. You bachelors are always hungry. Here, do have some bread and cheese.' Sanze put up his hands in refusal but she clucked her tongue impatiently, saying, 'I've just finished baking the bread and I'll be really annoyed if you don't have some.' She leaned forward, covering her chest with one hand while she handed the plate to him. He took a piece of bread half reluctantly, but also half pleased to have a reason to stay a little longer.

Sanze started to make light conversation but Trani leaned over, laid a finger across his lips, and said, 'Now that I've got the chance, I want to speak to you about Zaliek.' He looked at her quizzically, but she went straight on and said, 'He deserves better, don't you think?'

'Better?'

'Yes. He's a good commander, isn't he?' Sanze nodded cautiously, wondering what she was getting at. Trani said, 'Also, you must admit that he's brave and highly experienced.' Sanze nodded again. Trani waggled a finger at him as if he was a naughty boy and continued, 'There you are, Sanze. Now you see that he deserves better.'

'Well, I didn't say—'

'Oh, Sanze, don't be so modest. A man of your standing and influence can do it easily.'

'Do what?'

'Why, get a promotion for Zaliek, of course. I thought you agreed that he deserves it.'

'Hold it, Trani, hold it! I can't just dish out promotions like cakes at a New Moon festival.'

'Oh, Sanze, you're so professional and absolutely, completely incorruptible! Everybody admires you for that. But don't you think you're being just a little bit too careful in Zaliek's case?'

'Too careful? I don't—'

'Of course, you wouldn't want to be suspected of favouritism. Of course not! But, on the other hand, you should guard against being unfair to Zaliek just because of your long acquaintance.'

'I'm not being unfair to him!'

'No, no, of course not. That's not what I'm saying. But don't you think you're being too strict in his case just because you are friends?'

'To tell the truth, I—'

'You must understand, Sanze, that I would never suggest this for myself.' While she was speaking, Trani came around to his side of the table and refilled his mug. She stood close to him, brushing his shoulder with her thigh. As she leaned forward with the jug, he had to fight down an urge to put a hand on her body just to feel the firm roundness that he knew lay underneath her robe. Still leaning forward, Trani chuckled throatily and glanced at him sideways. Then she straightened and stood close behind him, smoothing her robe. Sanze could hear her and sense her but couldn't see her. Then she chuckled again in the same way and walked to the other side of the table.

Sanze steadied himself, cleared his throat, and asked, 'So you would like to be the wife of a deputy general?'

'On, no, Sanze! You misunderstand me!' Trani waved a hand around the room. 'What else could I want? You can see for yourself that we want for nothing. We live simply, to be sure, but it's quite comfortable and homely.' She wrinkled her nose as she said the last word. Then she added in a matter-of-fact tone, 'I have a loyal husband and a fine son.' She wrinkled her nose again. 'What more could any woman want?'

'The more you have, the more you want?'

'Really? Is that a Berinian saying? It's not a saying where I come from and I don't think it's true anyway. No, Sanze, I want only one thing and that is to see that Zaliek gets what he deserves.' She smiled winningly, leaned across the table, and took his hand. 'Will you try to do something for him?'

'I'll see what I can do.' Sanze released her hand and got to his feet, saying, 'I have to go.'

'So soon?' Trani followed him to the door. There she put a hand on his arm, stretched up, and kissed him on a cheek. She said, 'It's always good to see you, Sanze. You're such a good friend to all of us.' She kissed his other cheek and said, 'Do let me know if there is anything that I can do for you.'

Sanze muttered a farewell and left the house. The day was cool, but he was sweating. His skin was fevered and prickly, just as it was before he went into action on the field of battle.

Soon after Zaliek arrived in Berina, he had a private audience with Gersina. When Sanze asked him about it, Zaliek replied cautiously, 'All good, I guess.'

'Nothing special?'

Zaliek gave an exaggerated shrug and said, 'We chatted about old times. Then he showed me around the palace. Impressive, isn't it?'

'The people expect their king to live in a manner that reflects the glory of the nation.'

Zaliek raised his eyebrows sceptically and grunted, 'In that case, it looks like the people's expectations are being satisfied, for sure.' He chuckled. 'There was a delegation from Kitilat waiting to see Gersina. The times are changing, eh? It used to be that Berina sent delegations to Kitilat, asking for assistance. Now it looks like it's the other way around.'

Sanze replied, 'Now that we have direct access to the sea, we don't need much from them. Also, we control access to Usserd and the west. We want to keep the routes open.'

Zaliek chuckled again and said, 'I recognised the leader of the delegation. He was a shifty little rodent named Bahdere, who was one of the leaders of the move to eject my mother and me from Kitilat.' He chuckled again. 'I made a point of greeting him, but he suddenly had a coughing fit and found that he couldn't speak.'

Sanze said with feeling, 'Diplomats! They're like the grease on the wheels of a wagon—slimy and sticky, but necessary for the wheel to move forward.'

Zaliek grinned. 'Not honest and upright like soldiers, eh?' He rubbed a finger across his nose, looked at Sanze speculatively, and asked, 'Do you know that there's trouble brewing with the Usserdites?' Sanze nodded and Zaliek continued, 'Gersina said that he wants me to be involved in the campaign.'

Sanze was annoyed. Why was Gersina discussing a campaign against the Usserdites when nothing had been decided? Sanze swallowed his annoyance and said evenly, 'If it comes to war against Usserd, it's not going to be an easy campaign. We'll need people with your experience.'

Sensing that Sanze was annoyed, Zaliek hesitated, pursed his lips, and then changed the subject. He remarked, 'Gersina has put on weight.'

Sanze warned, 'Don't ever say that to him. He doesn't like to hear it.' That was an understatement. He had seen Gersina fling a mug at someone who made a remark about his weight, after which Gersina drove the offender from his presence amid a torrent of abuse.

Zaliek asked, 'Is Gersina in good health?'

'Good enough, I guess. Why do you ask?'

'His eyes are red and puffy, and he gets short of breath after he's walked for a while.'

Sanze thought that it sounded as if Gersina was recovering from a bout of drinking when he met with Zaliek. Sanze knew the symptoms only too well. However, he didn't say that. There were some subjects that you approached with the greatest circumspection and then only if it was certain that what you said wouldn't get back to Gersina. Sanze replied circumspectly, 'Gersina has a lot on his mind. Sometimes he neglects his health in the interests of the nation.'

Zaliek nodded thoughtfully. He took out a small dagger, looked at it speculatively, and began to clean his fingernails. Then, almost carelessly, he said, 'I saw Mecolo as well.'

'Oh? Where?'

'I caught a glimpse of her when Gersina was showing me around the palace. She recognised me, and then turned away without greeting me.'

'She didn't speak to you? Why would she do that?'

'Hold on, comrade. There's more to the story. When I was leaving the palace, Mecolo suddenly came out of a side door, grabbed me by the arm, and pulled me behind a pillar.' His eyes narrowed as he continued, 'She put her hands on my shoulders, looked me in the eye, and began to cry. I can tell you, I was surprised—more than surprised—I hadn't seen her for twenty years and now there she was, just crying.'

'That's all that she did—just cry?'

Zaliek continued, 'After a few seconds, she pulled herself together and said, "Oh, Zaliek, it's good to see you again." Of course, I was thinking it was just the opposite. I mean, damnation, what am he supposed to think when she acts like that?' He shook his head in bewilderment and said, 'I thought I was getting used to women, but this—well, man, this is a new experience.'

'What happened next?'

'She asked if I was going to see you soon. Of course, I said yes. Then she said that I should tell you that she wanted you to remember your promise to act for the good of Berina.'

Promise? When had he made a promise to Mecolo? Sanze guessed that she was referring to her appeal to him to support her son, Bedaxili. But that was a long time ago and, anyway, he had never made a promise to her. What was on Mecolo's mind? What was prompting her to raise the matter now? Sanze said cautiously, 'Her memory must be faulty. I never made a promise to her.'

Zaliek said, 'Mecolo said that now that I was serving Berina again, I should help you to keep your promise. She said that the time was coming when our resolve would be put to the test.'

'Damn it, man, I tell you that I never made her a promise! Her memory is faulty. And as to trying to involve you—well, the best thing is to forget about it.'

Zaliek looked at him even more closely and lowered his voice. He asked, 'You're not messing around with her, are you?'

'Don't be a fool, man! Of course not!'

'It would be a bad move if you are.'

'I told you that I am not! I have nothing to do with Mecolo. In fact, I haven't even set eyes on her, let alone spoken to her, for at least one year. And, what's more, I have nothing to do with women at all—period! And that's the whole truth.'

Zaliek stood there scratching his head. He looked so awkward and bewildered that Sanze burst out laughing. Then, just to make sure that there were no misunderstandings, Sanze added, 'About what Mecolo said, I want you to know that I spoke the truth when I said that I hardly ever see Mecolo—or Roda, come to that. And I never—I mean never—converse with them.' Sanze could have added that although he hardly ever saw them, he knew that Gersina's relationships with his wives hadn't improved with time. Mecolo's and Roda's incessant rivalry and complaints about each other, as well as their demands for preferment for their children, irritated Gersina so much that he avoided them for days on end, if not longer. In fact, Sanze suspected that Gersina was thoroughly bored with them. Gersina's attentions had been wandering to other quarters for a long time. However, although Sanze knew a lot and conjectured even more, there were some aspects of Gersina's relationship with his wives and family that he didn't enquire into. Gersina didn't speak to him about personal and family business, and Sanze didn't ask any questions.

Zaliek grunted. 'Well, I gave you Mecolo's message as I said I would. If you say there's nothing in it, then that's good enough for me.' He shrugged. 'As far as I'm concerned, that's the end of the matter.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: INSECTS

Sanze sometimes wished that they had never conquered the Western River Strip. It was true that it was a popular move at the time because it showed that Berina could not only defend its territory but was also able to deal with hostile neighbours. Occupying the Strip was also a popular move among land-hungry Berinians who, within the space of a generation, turned the area into a green and prosperous expanse with market gardens and small farms amid a network of canals.

On the other hand, it was difficult to guard the Strip. The former occupants, now evicted, frequently raided the Strip, while the nearby Usserdite chiefs always seemed to be on the verge of trying to reclaim some of the land that had been lost.

When Sanze warned Gersina against occupying the Strip, Gersina just clapped him on the shoulder and said, 'Ah, Sanze, cautious as ever, eh!' The fact was that Gersina was only reflecting the popular mood when he began to seize territory from the Dornites and the Usserdites. After being restricted to the crowded highlands for generations, Berinians revelled in the opportunity to settle in the fertile lands of the coastal plain and the Western River Strip. Also, expansionism was central to realising Gersina's vision of a Berina that was entirely free of the threat of invasion. On several occasions, he told Sanze, 'I don't mind fighting our enemies on the coastal plain, or in the Strip, or on the southern plains, or anywhere else, as long as we keep Berina itself secure. Never again do I want to see even one enemy footprint on Berinian soil. Do you understand, Sanze? Never again!'

The latest trouble started when Berinian settlers in the Strip caught two Usserdites red-handed in the act of stealing donkeys. Instead of handing the thieves over to the authorities, the settlers took the law into their own hands and hanged them. From there, matters went downhill. The King of Usserd protested that, according to the terms of the treaty between Berina and Usserd, the intruders should have been handed over to him for punishment. When he demanded compensation, Gersina replied that the offenders would be tried, and their fines would be paid to Usserd. Sanze sent a deputy commander and twenty men to arrest the offenders, but a mob of settlers surrounded the soldiers, saying that they wouldn't let them go until the offenders were pardoned. The governor of the Strip rushed to Thania for an urgent consultation with Gersina and eventually the offenders were pardoned, on the grounds that they had been unduly provoked by the incusion. Gersina sent a message to the King of Usserd to say that while Berina appreciated having good relations with Usserd, it could not guarantee that it would be able to observe the treaty in future if there were further acts of bare-faced provocation.

The next act in the drama came two weeks later when an Usserdite chief raided a village in the Strip, carrying off livestock as compensation for the deaths of the two men. When Gersina demanded that the stolen livestock should be returned and that the chief should be punished, the King of Usserd refused, saying that he was also finding it difficult to observe the terms of the treaty in the face of bare-faced acts of provocation such as the hanging of the two men. Noting that the treaty had been concluded when the boundaries of Berina did not extend beyond the Great River, the king also opined that he thought that it was time for Usserd and Berina to negotiate a new treaty. He proposed that the first step would be for Berina and Usserd to discuss what he termed 'the difficult circumstances posed by Berinian settlers who are improperly occupying Usserdite territory on the western bank of the river.'

Gersina summoned Sanze to see him and, after a short discussion of the issue, said bluntly 'The King of Usserd wants war and war is what he'll get.'

'Is that the only option?'

Gersina's eyes were red and his voice was thick. It looked as if he was suffering from a hangover or recovering from a fever. He said irritably, 'We have no choice, man. They have provoked us beyond endurance.'

'Perhaps one more diplomatic mission could—'

Gersina banged one fist into another and shouted, 'No more talking! No more diplomacy! They will have to learn that we are not to be trifled with—and they'll learn the hard way.'

'Perhaps if we just recovered the livestock and burned a few villages—'

'I tell you, Sanze, no more delays and no more pussy-footing!' Gersina eyed Sanze narrowly, pushed a finger at him, and asked, 'Isn't the army ready for a campaign? Is that what you're afraid of?'

'It's ready. It's always ready.'

'But not as ready as it should be, eh?'

'What are you talking about?'

'What have the troops been doing for the last five years? Manoeuvres, border patrols, parades, and sitting in their barracks, that's what! They're getting soft and complacent.' Gersina walked over to the wall map and then turned and said with finality, 'They need a proper campaign to get them up to the mark again and, by Zabrazal, that's what they're going to get.'

Sanze sighed inwardly and sat down to plan the campaign with Gersina.

When Gersina said 'a proper campaign', he meant nothing less than sacking Fewerla, the capital city of Usserd. However, as Sanze knew right from the beginning, it was a lot easier said than done. It took Sanze and the army three months to fight their way as far as the walls of Fewerla, and even when they got there, they had to guard their rear against attacks by the irregular forces of the various chiefs whom they had defeated or bypassed along the way. It was like fighting a many-headed, self-replicating snake: when you lopped off one head, another would spit at you.

While the army settled down to besiege Fewerla, Sanze sent a message to Gersina, asking him to reconsider his order to sack the city. Sieges were demoralising. Sitting around in camp made the men slack and dissolute. Diseases and discontent spread. Then, if they attempted an assault and were thrown back, there would be a decline in morale and complaints about the injuries and deaths that were sustained without profit or gain. Sanze suggested to Gersina that they should settle with the King of Usserd, offering terms by which they would more than recover the costs of their campaign as well as extract a large penalty.

Gersina replied that he hadn't changed his mind. His resolve was as firm as ever—Fewerla should be sacked and the King of Usserd should be brought back to Berina, dead or alive. Sanze also received a sealed letter in which Gersina berated him for questioning his instructions and asked if Sanze would like to be relieved of his command. If not, then he should proceed immediately with an assault on the city. Finally, Gersina wrote that he explicitly ordered that Zaliek, as the most experienced of his commanders, should lead the first wave of assault.

When Sanze took Zaliek aside and told him about Gersina's instruction, Zaliek raised his eyebrows and said, 'During an assault, a commander's place is behind his men so that he can direct them properly.'

'I know that, but—'

'But Gersina is the king and we disobey his instructions at our peril, eh?' Zaliek shrugged fatalistically and picked up his helmet. He said, 'If Gersina wants an immediate assault, I'd better get things organised.'

'I'm sorry, Zaliek. It's not—'

'Sorry about what, General Sanze?'

'You know that this isn't the way that I would arrange matters.'

Zaliek shrugged again. He turned to go, stopped, and said, 'This is a dangerous business. If anything happens to me, will you make sure that Trani gets the pension that is due to her?'

'Don't be so pessimistic.'

'Will you see to it, if I don't come back?'

'I will. You know that.'

Zaliek nodded with melancholy satisfaction and said, 'Oh, and perhaps you could use your influence to see that my son is admitted to the Academy of Philosophy. Remember, I don't want him to be a soldier.'

Sanze said brusquely, 'Get out of here, Zaliek! You're the great survivor. Go and do what you have to do, and I'll have a cup of wine with you this evening when it's all over.'

Zaliek nodded sombrely and walked away, buckling his helmet as he went.

Zaliek was killed in the first wave of the assault after he fought his way up the ladder and led the attack onto the walls where he was left in an isolated position when the defenders threw back the ladder. Watching the assault, Sanze saw Zaliek fighting desperately on the battlements, his back to the wall. Sanze rushed forward to take personal charge, trying to get a ladder onto the wall at the spot where Zaliek under attack. However, even as the men struggled to raise the ladder, he knew that it was too late. When he looked up again, Zaliek had disappeared and all that we could see was a group of jeering defenders. Five minutes later, they threw Zaliek's severed head over the wall. The eyes had been gouged out.

The longer I live, thought Sanze, the more I suspect that we are no more than insects that crawl across the face of the earth, awaiting our turn to be crushed underfoot by a higher boot. In Zaliek's case, the higher boot was Gersina's and, as Sanze found out later, the reason was Gersina's lust for Trani. Not long after the army left on the expedition against Usserd, Gersina was relaxing on the roof of his palace enjoying his usual draught of wine in the cool of the evening. The palace was the highest building in Thania, and Gersina had a good view of the surrounding rooftops. At the same time as Gersina was lolling about, enjoying his evening rest, Trani was taking a bath on the roof of her house. Taking a bath on the roof? Whoever does that, thought Sanze, especially when it can be overlooked from nearby vantage points? Oh, he could picture the scene well enough: Trani luxuriating in the tub, keeping an eye on the palace while studiously pretending to be giving all her attention to the serious business of bathing. Once she knew that Gersina was up there, she would have frolicked innocently in the tub—a show of leg here, a breast there—while chatting and joking with her maid. Next, Sanze could picture Trani stepping out of the tub, facing the palace and stretching luxuriantly, tousling her hair, while her maid towelled her back. After that, she would probably have turned slowly—pirouetted, more likely—just to make sure that Gersina got a good look at what she was offering. Pha! Sanze could go on with the scenario but already he felt sick to his stomach. Zaliek and the rest of his men risked their lives in dirt and discomfort, while Gersina and Trani were engaged in their tableau of lust—pha! Sanze was disgusted beyond words.

It didn't take a soothsayer to predict what happened next. That very night, Gersina took Trani to his bed and, finding her to his liking, he bedded her on many nights after that. Before the army began to besiege Fewerla, Trani was pregnant. Shortly after that, her husband was dead and Gersina comforted the grieving widow by marrying her.

What would he have done, thought Sanze, if he had known about the affair when he received Gersina's order that Zaliek should be placed in the front line of the assault? Would he have told Zaliek about what was going on behind his back? Would he have carried out his instructions or would he have disobeyed them? After he learned about the affair, Sanze thought about the matter hundreds of times, if not more, and almost always he concluded that the result would have been the same. He would have obeyed orders—but, knowing what he did, he would have made sure that Zaliek would have been killed. It would have been a mercy to Zaliek. How would honest, gruff, plain-mannered Zaliek have lived with the betrayal and the shame, and how much damage would he have done to himself and others if he had survived?

When Sanze heard about the affair between Gersina and Trani, he was so disgusted that he felt like going straight back to Thania to confront Gersina. However, when he thought about the matter more coolly, Sanze knew that he had a more immediate priority. First, he needed to revenge the death of Zaliek and slake the iron-cold hatred in his soul by dealing with the city of Fewerla. By Zabrazal, thought Sanze, he would give Gersina what he wanted—the destruction of the city—and then he would turn his back on Gersina forever. Gersina would get what he wanted but he would never again have Sanze as confidant, companion, and comrade.

That night, when he heard about Gersina and Trani, Sanze dreamed about Trani. Lying on her bed, dressed seductively in a flimsy night-gown, Trani spread her arms to welcome him. Fired by lust, he went to her eagerly, entwining his body with hers and panting with desire as he ran his hands up and down the smooth skin of her back and pressed her breasts to his chest. She moaned and bit his shoulder in passion. He buried his face in her hair, inhaling its sweet scent, when he suddenly felt her body go rigid. He started and looked at her. She was staring at the ceiling in wide-eyed horror. Sanze twisted around and looked up. There on the ceiling was an image of Zaliek's severed, eyeless head. Sanze awoke with a cry of fear and disgust—but whether for Zaliek, Trani, or himself, he could not say.

When they subdued the city two days later, Sanze led the final assault. His orders were simple and straight-forward—there was to be no mercy to anyone except for the king, who was to be captured alive if possible. Once they got inside the city, there were scenes of carnage and destruction that made what happened at Asjolorm pale into insignificance. For Sanze, the difference was that at Asjolorm he had felt pity and distaste after a few minutes of carnage. However, inside the walls of Fewerla he was filled with such rage that his sword and dagger could not find enough victims to satisfy his blood-lust. The assault was so ruthless that only one inhabitant of Fewerla escaped alive. That person was the king, who was taken back to Thania as planned.

After they burned the city, Sanze would even have razed the walls if he had had the time or the means. Then, before they left the scene, he ordered his commanders to go through their men's packs, searching for loot. Whatever they found was thrown into a nearby tar-pit. There were protests not only from the men but also from the commanders. However, Sanze remained adamant. He told them that Gersina had said that they should only bring the king back with them and that was exactly what they would do. Of course, that wasn't exactly what Gersina had said—but, then, who besides the two of them knew what Gersina had told him? Now that Fewerla had been dealt with, Sanze's rage was focused on Gersina. He would leave Gersina with no booty and with a restless army.

The victory parade in Thania, with the King of Usserd as showpiece, was the greatest that had been seen since the last Dornite city fell to their army. Sanze led the procession, resplendent in his general's regalia, mounted on a spirited charger, playing out his role to the last. When the army stopped in front of the palace to be welcomed by Gersina, Sanze saw that Trani was sitting at Gersina's right hand. She looked radiant. Well, why not? She had not only progressed from being a waitress in a tavern to being the favoured consort of a king but, more than that, she was cementing her position by carrying his child. Not surprisingly, the other two people on the dais did not look as happy. Roda was sitting on Gersina's left hand, trying to look gracious but failing. On her left was Mecolo, who wasn't even trying to look as if she was enjoying the occasion. On the contrary—she looked sallow and sunken. Briefly, in a flash of sadness and regret, Sanze remembered the young Mecolo who had danced before them when they returned from the first battle of Gandonda, bearing the head of Drunuk before them. That day, Mecolo sang:

Gersina of Osicedi, soldier of Berina,

On a lance he bears Drunuk high.

Sanze of Osicedi, comrade of Gersina,

With his sword he laid Drunuk low.

Well, today Mecolo wasn't singing and dancing. And he, Sanze, wouldn't be Gersina's comrade for much longer. What about the severed head? For a moment he thought grimly that he should have paraded the head of Zaliek before the smug pair sitting on the dais. By Zabrazal, he would have done it, too, except that the head was a long way from Thania, buried outside the walls of Fewerla under a memorial cairn that Sanze raised to his dead friend and comrade.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: QUESTIONS

Next day, Sanze went to see Gersina to tell him that he was resigning his commission and leaving Berina. While he was waiting, the door to the council chamber opened and a priest named Isahile stormed out. When Sanze greeted him, Isahile gave him a resentful look, muttered something churlish, and went on his way. Isahile was the nearest that there had been to a high priest since Izebol died about twenty years earlier. When the priests convened to elect a new high priest, Gersina told them that he thought it would be wiser if they waited for a few years to ensure that they made the right choice. They decided to go ahead anyway, after issuing a statement that Zabrazal was lord over all Berina, the king included, and that the priests would not tolerate any attempt to interfere with their authority. Gersina reacted by detaining all the senior members of the priests' council, claiming they were endangering state security. Since then, there had been no further attempts to appoint a high priest.

After a few minutes, Sanze was summoned into the chamber. Gersina embraced him in such a perfunctory manner that, despite his blade-cold anger, Sanze stood back and asked, 'What's wrong?'

Gersina's left eyelid was flickering and the flecks in his eyes were glowing with anger. For the first time in a long while, Sanze glimpsed the old, cat-like Gersina, deceptively composed even as he readied himself to pounce. Gersina licked his lips and said in a steely voice, 'That man has just tried to provoke me!' Sanze raised his eyebrows. Gersina continued, 'He says that our child will die within seven days of its birth.'

'Why would he say that?'

Gersina's lips curled in distaste. 'He says that it will be Zabrazal's way of punishing me for marrying Trani. What do you think of that, eh?'

Sanze had other things on his mind so he just shrugged and replied, 'It depends on whether or not you believe in soothsayers and predictions.'

Gersina snarled, 'Well, I don't! But who is he, the meddling fool, to think that he can scare me with such a cock and bull story? What if Trani hears about it?'

Sanze shrugged again. He really didn't have any interest in the matter. He said, 'Look, Gersina, I didn't come here to discuss Isahile and his predictions.'

That stopped Gersina. He took a step backwards, looked at Sanze coldly, and asked, 'You don't think that the fate of our unborn child is worth discussing?'

'I came here to discuss something else.'

'You have something more important on your mind?'

'I do.'

'Well, then, my dear Sanze, don't let my concerns stand in your way, by no means. Let's hear about this supremely important matter that is pressing on your mind.'

Sanze steeled himself inwardly and then told Gersina what he thought about the fact that Gersina had seduced another man's wife and then sent that man to his death to get rid of him. Pricked by the cold steel in his soul, Sanze told Gersina that he would be fortunate if the only retribution that came upon him was the death of his unborn child. Finally, Sanze told Gersina that he was resigning his commission immediately, and that he was doing so because he was disgusted by Gersina's behaviour.

Gersina stared at Sanze icily while he was speaking. When Sanze finished, Gersina said curtly, 'Curse you, Sanze! I thought that I could trust you but now you're also turning against me. I wouldn't be surprised if you're in cahoots with the priests.' Gersina poked a finger at Sanze and roared, 'And I'm finished with you as well! Do you hear me? I'm finished with you, now and forever more! I'm giving you twenty-four hours to leave Berina. If you haven't left within that time, I'll have you arrested.'

'You're ordering me to leave Berina? You can't do that!'

'I'm the king. I can damn well do what I please!'

'Twenty-four hours, eh? Is that payment for a lifetime of—?'

'You heard me! Twenty-four hours! That's all you've got!'

'Twenty-four hours? Arrested? Oh, Gersina, Gersina, will you have your old comrade hunted like a common criminal? Would you have me dragged about in chains for all to see? Now wouldn't that be a fine show of royal gratitude for services rendered?'

Gersina looked at Sanze narrowly. Something flickered in Gersina's eyes—something from the long tunnel of memory—before he pounded the table and roared even louder, 'All right, I'll give you time to get your affairs in order. But, damn it, if you haven't left within a week, I will have you arrested for sure.' Gersina pounded the table again and roared, 'Get out, damn you! Get out! I never want to see you again!'

Sanze said with real sincerity, 'The feeling is mutual.'

Two days later, Sanze travelled to Durgenu's territory, seeking refuge. However, when Durgenu heard that Sanze had fallen out of favour with Gersina, he told Sanze plainly that he wanted him out of his territory as soon as possible. In fact, Durgenu was so nervous that he immediately arranged for Sanze to take passage on a ship that belonged to one of his trading partners. As he left the room, Durgenu clasped his arm—his hand was trembling—and muttered, 'You see, my friend, we must maintain good relations with Berina. It's not for me that I send you away, you understand, not for me at all—but I must think about my people. I can't risk doing anything that will place my people in jeopardy.' Durgenu pressed Sanze's arm and whispered, 'Go quickly. Go quietly. Gersina mustn't know about this affair. You understand, eh?'

'You wouldn't want to be treated the same as Fewerla, eh?'

'Indeed not! No, my dear fellow, indeed not! Think of my people, think of my people! Even more reason to keep this business quiet!'

The ship sailed the next morning, heading eastwards across the Endless Ocean. Sanze stood at the stern, watching the land recede from view and trying to get used to the unfamiliar feel of the rolling deck. The ship seemed to him to be like a living thing with its own life and nature. Its life was manifested through its dipping and swaying motions, and through its characteristic set of sounds: the creaking of timbers, the swish of the water down its sides, the whistling of the wind in the rigging and the flapping and snapping of the sails. As Sanze leaned on the rail, he remembered how he and Dana talked about floating with the clouds eastward over the Endless Ocean. He remembered saying to Dana that they would see islands in the ocean, laid out like pearls against the neck-piece of a gown. Well, he wasn't floating like a cloud and from this vantage point he wouldn't see the islands laid out like pearls. However, the great mainsail that loomed and billowed above him could well be a cloud. Sanze closed his eyes and, with the image of the sail still in his mind's eye, he thought, 'Yes, this could have been what Dana and I envisaged that day on the hillside outside Thania. Yes, the sea is like the great expanse of the sky and the ship with its great billowing sails is like a cloud following its scudding sky-companions eastwards in pursuit of our youthful fancy.

Before the ship sailed, Sanze was tempted to send his belt to Gersina. Then he thought, 'No, I won't do that. I will wear it as an eternal reminder of how he has treated me, as a reminder of the ephemeral nature of even the oldest relationships'. Sanze also thought that if he didn't return the belt, then Gersina would wonder why he hadn't done so and what Sanze had done with it. Had Sanze sold it in the bazaar? Had he thrown it away? Had he burned it? As Sanze stood at the rail, stroking the buckle with a thumb, running a finger across the embossed pattern of intertwined struggling beasts, he thought, 'Let Gersina wonder and worry. Let the great King of Berina know that there are many things in this world that are beyond his ken and beyond his reach.'

As Sanze stood with his eyes closed and his face upturned to the sail and the wind, Dana came to him in an image that was so immediate and so close that he moved a hand along the rail, reaching out to touch her—so real was she at that moment. Dana stood right there, looking up at him with her luminous eyes, smiling with the secret of her enjoyment of life. Then Sanze opened his eyes, cursed under his breath, and turned around to look out over the ship's wake. By Zabrazal, what a fool he was! Dana was gone, killed on the banks of the Great River—and, in any case, she wouldn't be fresh-faced and youthful now if she had lived. But what of it? Whatever her age, wouldn't she have stood next to him here at the stern of the ship, graceful in her maturity, invigorated by the experience, laughing with excitement at the thought that at last, at long last, they were scudding eastward towards the pearl-like islands of the Endless Ocean?

With that thought enveloping him, Sanze felt loneliness and desolation greater than he had ever known. He thought bitterly that Dana wasn't here to share the moment, Gersina had failed him, Zaliek was dead, and as for Berina—well, now he had abandoned his share in the dream of reaching the heights, the dream to which they had climbed so purposefully. Leaning on the rail, Sanze wept. Yes, he wept. His desolation was all the greater because he knew that nobody cared whether he laughed or wept—or, come to that, whether he lived or died.

Aboard ship, Sanze met a passenger named Reshaja, who came from one of the islands. Reshaja was a small, rotund man with a bald head, beetling eyebrows, and an earring whose gleam matched that of the gold inlays in his front teeth. He reminded Sanze of the Dornite trader whose donkey they killed below Gandonda so long ago, except that the trader wore threadbare clothes and carried hardly anything of value, whereas Reshaja was a man of substance who traded in gemstones. When Sanze told Reshaja that he intended to make a new life for himself, Reshaja looked at him speculatively and remarked that he had one or two suggestions to make if Sanze didn't mind him doing so.

Soon Reshaja was teaching Sanze how to assess and value precious stones. Daily, as the ship swayed and dipped its way eastward, they sat in Reshaja's small cabin poring over stones laid out on a cloth. Sanze learned as much as Reshaja could teach him, and they formed a partnership before the ship reached its first landfall. They agreed that Sanze would travel among the outer islands, buying gemstones and looking for new sources of supply, while Reshaja would travel among the inner islands as well as market their wares on the mainland.

After eight days the ship reached Reshaja's home, the island of Terfillere. As it approached land, Sanze marvelled at how this massive place of rock and earth rose abruptly out of the fluid, seething depths of the surrounding ocean. He was excited at the sight of the cloud-skirted mountain peaks, the rocky cliffs, the golden, scimitar-shaped beaches, and the green valleys that seemed to have been poured into the folds between the mountains. It was strange, novel and exhilarating. Sanze needed an experience like this to alleviate his despondency. He needed to see and know that the world could still offer sights and experiences that were as spectacular as they were unexpected.

Reshaja allotted Sanze a small apartment in his log-built house that stood on the outskirts of the island's main town. This would be Sanze's base when he returned from his commercial expeditions, and it would be the place where he and Reshaja would meet to exchange money and wares.

For five years, Sanze travelled among the islands of the Endless Ocean, buying gemstones and looking for new sources of supply. Although the islands varied in size and shape, most of them were inhabited by the same race of people. Only the people of the easternmost islands were different. They were a tall and willowy race with slender noses, gentle eyes, and pale skins who claimed to have inhabited all the islands of the ocean until the new people with their iron-making skills and larger, more manoeuvrable ships forced them ever eastwards.

The people of the farthest isles assured him that the Endless Ocean was indeed endless. No one had ever sailed eastwards from their islands for more than two weeks. They said that after a week of sailing, the sea started to become thick with weed, while an ever-growing encrustation of barnacles slowed a ship so much that it became sluggish in the water. After a few more days, the sluggish ship would enter a realm of perpetual fog and deathly calm where the wind hardly ever stirred—and when it did stir, although it was ice-cold, it carried a whiff of fiery sulphur. Despite the calm air, the sea broke with whitecaps as if there was shallow water underneath even although depth soundings could not find a bottom. In this realm, at night sailors would hear howls and moans that made them think of captives in the grip of unbearable pain and anguish. Strangely, one man might hear the sounds while another might hear nothing. Those who heard the sounds said that they were so dire that they could only be warnings that humans should not proceed any farther, upon pain of death or worse.

Once, so Sanze was told, a ship did go further and never returned. About a year later, on the edge of the weed belt, sailors found timbers from the ship. The wood was scorched, twisted into fantastic shapes, and shattered as if some huge and monstrous force had breathed on the planks in fiery anger before crushing them as easily as a human hand crushes an egg.

Often, as Sanze sailed from island to island, he watched the clouds scudding across the sky and envied them. He still had many questions and the answers that he received didn't always satisfy him. Howls, moans, and scorched, shattered timbers floating on the ocean? Perhaps it was true—in any case, was it more fantastic than some of the things that he had seen?—or perhaps it was just a reflection of unspoken human fears. Sanze knew that unlike fragile, earth-crawling human beings, the clouds would know for sure whether the Endless Ocean was indeed endless. They would know the shape and appearance of every island, which was something that Sanze still didn't properly know even after five years of sailing the ocean. They would know why, once, when the wind blew a squall from the north, it dumped on their ship thousands of small frogs, still alive and twitching. The sailors said that it was the work of the gods. But why would the gods—whichever gods they might be—dump a heap of frogs on sailors who were minding their own business in the middle of the ocean? Anyway, why frogs?

Often, Sanze recalled that Dana said that the clouds asked the questions. If the clouds knew so much, then what sorts of questions did they ask? Perhaps one of the questions they asked was this: 'Why do you chase after such small and petty things when you see how you are situated within infinity between the great, stretching sky and its earthly counterpart, the Endless Ocean?' Or perhaps they asked him: 'Why did you invest so much in the cause of Berina, when it has come to nothing? Why were you so short-sighted that you could not read the end into the beginning?' Perhaps that was what Dana meant. Or perhaps the questions were the answers.

Twice every year, when Sanze and Reshaja met in Terfillere, Sanze got news of the outside world. He learned that, as predicted, Gersina's and Trani's child did die within a week of its birth. However, Trani had produced two more children since then. Sanze also learned that, more than ever before, Gersina's wives and children were being troublesome. Of course, rivalries and resentments had been brewing ever since Gersina took a second wife, not to mention a third one. However, matters really came to a head when Mecolo's oldest son, the ironically named Bedaxili—'Beloved of Vaxili'—took a fancy to his half-sister, Roda's oldest daughter, who was only sixteen years of age at the time. When the girl rejected his advances, Bedaxili took her by force. In retaliation, Roda's oldest son attacked Bedaxili, who killed him. Overcome with shame, Roda's daughter committed suicide.

Distraught and almost powerless in the face of such familial passions and intrigues, Gersina banished Bedaxili to a small village near Osicedi. The grieving Roda, who now hated Mecolo more than ever, pressed the claims to the throne of her surviving son. Biding her time, Trani was waiting in the wings with claims of her own. Her sons were still pre-teens, but who knew how long Gersina might live and what changes there might be in the interim?

To add to Gersina's troubles, after lying low for a while, Bedaxili was trying to gain popularity by travelling around dispensing charity and largesse, while suggesting that now that Gersina was old and tired he, Bedaxili, should take over the throne. Although Bedaxili was violating the terms of his banishment, Gersina, enervated in a web of his own making, didn't have the heart or the courage to bring his son to heel. In any case, everyone knew that Gersina always had an especially soft spot for Bedaxili, his first-born and the heir to the throne.

What did Sanze care about these tales from a far-off place? He told himself that he had relegated Berina to a corner of his mind where it was sequestered along with all the other memories and experiences of his life before he took ship and sailed eastwards across the ocean. Berina could stay in its remote corner of his mind, immobilised and embalmed, gradually shrivelling up until it intruded upon him less than a pebble in a barn full of grain would trouble a farmer. Then, perhaps, he would be happy again. Then, perhaps, he would roam the Endless Ocean with a spirit as free and unencumbered as he once roamed the hills near Osicedi.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE: MENDING FENCES

One day, during Sanze's sixth year in the Endless Ocean, Reshaja arrived from the coast with a sealed letter and gave it to Sanze with a knowing glance. Immediately, Sanze knew who had sent it: the seal was Gersina's. Sanze cursed and threw the letter onto the table. Reshaja looked at him incredulously and asked, 'Aren't you going to open it?'

'Why should I?'

'It looks important.'

'Important to whom?'

Reshaja shrugged and replied, 'My friend, you should read the letter.' Sanze ignored the remark and the letter lay on the table between them like an unanswered question while they caught up on news and discussed business. Then, as Sanze was leaving the room, Reshaja asked, 'Aren't you going to read the letter?'

'Read it? No! Throw it away! I wish I'd never seen the damned thing.'

'My dear friend, do you know who it's from?'

'Of course! That's Gersina's seal. That's why I wish I had never seen it.'

Reshaja thrust the letter at him, saying, 'Do with it what you want but please don't leave it here. It's your business, not mine.'

Sanze stuffed the letter into his tunic, annoyed that he even had to acknowledge its existence. At the door, he stopped and asked, 'Who gave it to you?'

Reshaja replied, 'I was at a port in Durgenu's territory when a man knocked on my door one evening and asked if I knew you.'

'And, of course, you said that you did.'

'He knew that I knew you. Anyway, my friend, why should I have lied to him? You have nothing to be afraid of, do you?'

'I guess not. If they wanted to get me, they would have done so a long time ago.' However, even as Sanze said the words, he wondered how Gersina knew where he was. Had Reshaja been talking? Had they been tracking him without his knowing it? Sanze checked his speculations, thinking that the trail could lead anywhere—after all, sailors, traders, and customers could talk as freely as anyone else. Damn it! Now the past was stirring again like a hibernating animal beginning to twitch after the winter. He would have to put it back into its corner as soon as he could and do so as firmly as possible.

Sanze sat in his room holding the letter. He weighed it in his hand, turned it around, weighed it again, and put it down. He told himself that it probably concerned some mundane matter such as the property that he had left behind in Thania. But, if so, why would the letter carry the royal seal? Sanze stretched out his hand to grasp the letter and then withdrew it. What if the letter invited him to become involved again with the affairs of Berina? Damn, damn, damn! Finally, he gave in to curiosity and opened the letter.

The letter was written in Gersina's own hand. He invited Sanze to return to Berina and take up the position of commander of the army. In fact, Gersina did more than issue an invitation—he practically begged Sanze to return. Gersina concluded by writing, 'Let bygones be bygones, Sanze. As you cared for me that night when I heard about the death of my parents, so I ask you to have a care for me now.' Included with the letter was a document that granted Sanze safe passage to Thania.

What lay behind Gersina's request? It was late, but Sanze knocked on Reshaja's door anyway. Rubbing his eyes sleepily, Reshaja invited him into his room. Sanze sat down, thrust the letter at him, and asked, 'What do you know about this?'

'My friend, I know nothing except that I was asked to deliver it.'

'You don't know what the letter says?

'By all the gods and by the tomb of my father—may nothing that I do or say disturb his peace—I swear that I don't know what is in the letter.' Reshaja protested his innocence so vehemently that it was almost comical. Anyway, what difference did it make, whether he knew or not? Sanze told Reshaja about Gersina's request and then said, 'You've just come from the mainland. What's going on in Berina that might explain why Gersina wants him back as commander of the army?'

'Gersina is facing a revolt. Don't you know that?'

'How should I know about it? Only yesterday, I returned after six months of travelling around the outer islands. A revolt, eh? Who's leading the revolt?'

'Bedaxili.'

'Tell me about it.'

'There's not much to tell. Everyone knows that Bedaxili has been champing at the bit ever since Gersina banished him to Lower Berina. During the last two or three years, he's started to act like an alternative ruler, going around settling disputes, making promises and exploiting grievances. Now he's come out into the open and declared that Gersina should either abdicate or be removed, to be replaced by a younger, fitter man.'

'And that would be Bedaxili himself, of course.'

'Of course! Who else?'

Sanze crumpled the letter into a little ball and said, 'Thank you for the information, Reshaja. I'm sorry that I woke you.'

Reshaja rose and put out a hand to restrain him. He asked, 'You will be going to Berina?'

'Go to Berina? Of course not! They can settle their own affairs in their own way. It's no concern of mine.'

'But—'

'Look, Reshaja, right now I've got two things on my mind, and only two things. The first is to get a good night's sleep. The second is to get up early, feeling refreshed, to deal with all the matters that have piled up while I've been away.'

'Are you going to ignore Gersina's request?'

'For sure, I'm going to ignore it!'

'But, my friend, you can't do that.'

'I can do it and I am doing it.'

Reshaja moved around so that he was positioned between the door and Sanze. He said, 'I'm sorry, my friend—you can't do that.'

'Why not?'

'Because it would distress His Excellency the governor.'

'Governor? Which governor?'

'His Excellency the governor of Terfillere, of course.'

'What does he have to do with it?'

Reshaja said patiently, 'Instability in Berina is bad for all of us.'

'Not good for trade, eh?'

'That's true. But there are plenty of other things that it isn't good for, either.' Reshaja spread his hands and said, 'Be reasonable, my friend. You know how ordinary people live. After all, you were a shepherd once and your father was a farmer and a merchant. You know that wars and revolts might be good for rulers, kings, and generals—depending on who wins and who loses—but for the rest of us, they just bring poverty and suffering.' Reshaja looked at Sanze almost pleadingly and said, 'Come now, my friend, be reasonable.'

Reshaja was planted so firmly in front of the door, legs apart and arms folded, that it appeared that Sanze would have to remove him by force to leave the room. Sanze asked truculently, 'Are you a spokesman for the governor?'

'No. But His Excellency asked me to call on him after my ship docked. I know that he is concerned about the matter. '

'So, tell me—what are his concerns?'

Reshaja sighed. 'I was going to tell you in the morning. His Excellency would dearly like to assist an influential ally like Gersina.'

'Ah! You didn't know what's in the letter—but the governor knew all along?'

Reshaja shifted uncomfortably and dropped his eyes. He muttered, 'The governor is an important man. We shouldn't be surprised if he knows things that ordinary people don't.'

'Reshaja, this is a set-up, isn't it?'

Reshaja still wouldn't look Sanze in the eye. He murmured, 'I can only repeat what I have heard.'

For a moment, Sanze was so angry that he wanted to shake Reshaja until his teeth rattled in his gums. Then he got a grip on himself. After all, Reshaja was only the messenger. Sanze asked, 'And what if I refuse to comply with Gersina's request?'

Reshaja sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. He pleaded, 'Oh, my friend, do consider His Excellency's feelings!'

'By Zabrazal, you are acting as the governor's spokesman, aren't you?'

'No, my friend, I am not. I just happen to have an insight into his feelings.'

'And why should you have these insights into the governor's concerns?'

Reshaja sighed even more deeply and rolled his eyes in exasperation. 'Come now, my friend, you've lived here long enough to know what my people are like. We respect people in authority, and we try to save them embarrassment. So' —Reshaja shrugged. 'So, in this case, I am telling you what I think His Excellency might like you to hear. You understand, don't you?' He spread his hands and said pleadingly, 'It would be kind to the governor if you would consider his feelings.'

'I want to hear it from the governor in person.'

'You can try, my friend. But His Excellency might not want to see you. That would be out of consideration for your feelings, of course.'

Sanze sat down, feeling weary and beaten. His mouth was dry with the taste of frustration. Worse still, Berina with all its concerns was roaring back at him like a foul-winded storm that had come from nowhere and now battered his senses. He asked despondently, 'Why does Gersina need me, anyway?'

'I heard that the soldiers who defected to Bedaxili killed all Gersina's senior army commanders. I would think that's why he needs you.'

'All of them? Dead?' It was a shock. Sanze knew all of them well. Reshaja nodded in confirmation.

Next morning, Sanze went to the governor's palace and asked for an audience. After a few minutes, an aide told him that the governor was indisposed. However, he referred him to Reshaja who, said the aide, was privy to the governor's thoughts. When Sanze insisted on seeing the governor, the aide took his arm firmly and led him to the door, saying, 'Oh, my dear sir, why don't you board a ship and go home for a while? His Excellency knows that you have business there and he doesn't want to delay you a moment longer than is necessary.' Still grasping his arm, the aide walked Sanze out of the door. There he bowed and said, 'His Excellency sends you his most respectful felicitations and assures you that he will be delighted to see you when you have completed your business in Berina.'

When Sanze reached Thania, he hardly recognised Gersina, who had changed so much that he looked like a derelict ruin of the man that Sanze once knew. Gersina was paunchy—bloated with heaviness, in fact—and he had puffy eyes and a double chin. In fact, Gersina's whole face seemed to have receded downwards like part of a mountainside that has begun to slide after heavy rains. Also, Gersina walked with a heavy limp, leaning on a walking stick; with each step he had to heave himself forward awkwardly as if the air itself obstructed his passage.

Gersina greeted Sanze in a business-like manner as if they had only been parted for a few days. He gave Sanze a perfunctory embrace and showed him to a chair. As Gersina sat down, he winced as he lifted his troublesome leg onto a footstool. He settled back and said sourly, 'This rotten leg! It won't get better.' Gersina winced again and shifted, rubbing one of his buttocks as it lifted off the chair. 'The doctors say it's gout, caused by too much red wine. Ha! Wine never did any harm, especially the good stuff that I get from Durgenu.' Gersina waved his stick around, gesticulating at the walls and ceiling. 'More likely it's living in this draughty building. I never should have allowed the architects to put in so much marble and such high ceilings.' Gersina settled back with a noise between a sigh and a groan, rubbed his chin as if he was trying to dislodge his jowls from their moorings, and eyed Sanze warily. The eyes were still Gersina's even if the rest of his body had fallen a long way from its state of youthful grace. He asked stiffly, 'How are you, Sanze?'

'I'm all right.'

'Not too sorry to be back, eh?'

'Oh, I could easily have stayed away longer. Very easily, in fact.'

There was a pause while they looked at each other appraisingly. Gersina rubbed his chin again and dropped his eyes. Then he grunted, looked him straight in the eye, and mumbled, 'Don't make it hard for me, Sanze.'

'Don't make what hard for you?'

'I need you, Sanze. More than that, Berina needs you.' Sanze grunted but said nothing. Gersina pursed his lips and shifted uncomfortably before he said, 'I apologise, Sanze.'

'For what?'

'I apologise for what I said the last time I saw you.'

'It was a long time ago.'

Gersina shifted again and coughed. He said, 'I acted like Vaxili, didn't I?' Sanze raised his eyebrows. Gersina continued, 'You told me frankly what you felt.'

'Yes. I did.'

'Vaxili never could abide frank speaking.'

'That's true.'

Gersina shifted again and rubbed a buttock. He said, 'You were honest with me.'

'Look, Gersina, it's over and done with. Let's forget about it.'

Gersina bit his lip and his eyelid twitched. He took a deep breath and said, 'Sanze, this isn't easy for me.' Sanze raised his eyebrows even higher. Gersina continued, 'Damn it, man, I'm trying to apologise to you.'

Suddenly Sanze felt like grinning as he glimpsed something of the old Gersina. Whatever his faults, in the old days Gersina had spoken to him frankly—most of the time, anyway. Sanze said, 'I accept your apology.'

Gersina wriggled in his chair and repositioned his leg on the footstool. 'Do you, Sanze?' Sanze nodded. Gersina threw back his head, waggled it as if his neck was stiff, and said, 'That's good. That's very good. Mending fences, eh?'

Mending fences? That wasn't the most suitable image. The fact was that Sanze was aware of how many fences there still were between them despite Gersina's apology. Sanze shrugged the thought away and asked, 'Did you bring me here just to apologise?'

Gersina took another deep breath and then replied in a tight voice, 'It had to be said first, didn't it?' Sanze nodded and Gersina said, 'You know very well why I asked you to come here.'

'Asked? You asked me, did you? Well, man, let me tell you that I had no choice. They ordered me out of Terfillere and practically frog-marched me onto a ship. You call that being asked to do something?'

Gersina stretched his hands above his head and flexed his shoulders, looking tired. He pleaded, 'I need you, Sanze,'

'Why?'

'Because I need a commander that I can trust, and I need one that can do the job. That's you. Who else is there?'

For a moment Sanze felt like taunting him. Trust, eh? What about all your generals and all your governors, Gersina? What about your women and your many children, Gersina? What about your sons—yes, Gersina, what about your sons? Sanze looked at the flabby shell that was sitting in front of him, shifting his lame leg uncomfortably and rubbing his jowls—and he pitied Gersina. Sanze remembered the old Gersina—the brave, quick, and generous friend and comrade, the comet that had blazed its bright path through their lives and through the destiny of Berina. Oh, the memories and emotions were all out of their lairs now. They were flooding all over him. Damn, damn, damn! Sanze bit back his taunts and asked, 'Trust me? What of it?'

'Sanze, who else can I really trust? You always put the destiny of Berina first, didn't you? You always drove straight for it, without allowing yourself to be diverted, didn't you?'

'I did, once.'

'Do you know, Sanze, you're the nearest that I've ever come to an honest man.'

'I doubt that. For one thing, serving Berina has corrupted me.'

Gersina leaned forward and asked persuasively, 'Do you remember how as boys we sat on the hills and looked over the coastal plain while—?'

'Stop it, Gersina! No more!' There was a deep silence. Gersina reached into a drawer in the cabinet next to him and held something up for Sanze to see. It was a sling. Gersina asked, 'Do you remember this?' Sanze nodded. Still holding it up, Gersina said, 'It's the same old sling, Sanze.' He heaved himself out of the chair and, supported by the stick, waddled across to a dresser. There he took out several small wooden objects—the same targets that they used for slingshot practice while they sat around in the evenings drinking wine and chatting companionably. Gersina draped a cloth over the dresser, set up the targets, and heaved himself back to his place. He took some pebbles out of a pouch and gave them to Sanze, saying, 'Have a go, Sanze.'

'I don't feel like it, Gersina.'

'Please, Sanze, for old time's sake?'

Sanze surprised himself by hitting four out of the seven targets. Gersina grunted and said, 'Watch this, Sanze.' He whirled the sling and let fly. Plink! The pebble hit the wall leaving the targets unscathed. He let fly again with the same result. Finally, after eight attempts, he had hit only two targets. Gersina said gruffly, 'You see how it is with me, Sanze.'

'Oh, come on Gersina, you're just faking it.'

Gersina looked at him heavily and growled, 'I assure you that I am not.'

'I don't believe you.'

'By Zabrazal, I can't do it anymore, Sanze. Don't you see—I can't do it.' Gersina slumped into his chair. 'I can't do it, Sanze. That's the truth.'

Sanze looked at him, pitying rather than despising Gersina in his despondent and fallen state. Sanze picked up the sling, took aim, and sent one of the targets whirling. Then he said, 'All right, I'll do it. Just don't ask anything more of me. When it's over, I will be free to go back to the islands. Agreed?'

Gersina sighed as if he had been relieved of a great weight. He leaned farther forward and, with both hands clasping the carved head of his stick, he said, 'Agreed! But don't harm the boy, Sanze. He's my oldest son and he's my heir. Whatever happens, don't harm him.'

'What if he resists?'

'Whatever you do, don't harm him, Sanze. Do whatever you want with the others, but don't harm the boy. Despite everything, I still—well, enough of that. He must be the next king of Berina. Anything else will bring chaos.'

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX: THINGS OF THEIR OWN MAKING

Berina was in turmoil. Bedaxili had only articulated and exploited the dissatisfaction that was already widespread by the time that he came out into the open. People were tired of paying taxes that were spent on grandiose projects. They were tired of paying for extensions to the palace, a royal villa at the coast, clothing and jewellery for Gersina's wives and children, and the triumphal cavalcades that accompanied Gersina wherever he went. They were tired of their young men being rounded up for forced labour gangs, to serve for two years in convict-like conditions. And such is the human desire for novelty, they were probably tired of the tedium of stability and security—or, at the least, they had forgotten what the alternative was like.

Bedaxili offered something new and attractive. He was a handsome populist who sat in town squares and spoke to ordinary people, promising reductions in taxes, an end to forced labour, and the sweeping away of the old guard who surrounded Gersina. The priests, for so long side-lined by Gersina, added credibility to Bedaxili's campaign by coming out in support of him. Although Isahile, the High Priest-elect, stayed out of the fray, several his colleagues accompanied Bedaxili's cavalcade, proclaiming that Zabrazal approved of this flamboyant young man who, among his many promises, assured the priests that their authority and privileges would be restored.

However, Bedaxili played his hand too soon. He didn't know—or, in his eagerness for power, he didn't want to know—that there is a big difference between leading a populist movement and leading an army. He also made the mistake of thinking that the junior officers who clustered around him, eager for swift advancement, had the experience and the knowledge to organise a campaign and lead an army to victory.

Viewing the situation with a practised eye, Sanze saw all of this. He saw that the young officers' ambition had no more substance to it than the self-aggrandisement of a peacock that promenades and thinks well of itself, until the eagle swoops and tears it to shreds within seconds.

To Sanze's relief, Gersina still had an army. Although the senior commanders were dead and many of the lower-ranking officers had joined Bedaxili, Gersina still had a core of officers and soldiers who had served Berina well during the past twenty-five years. In the current crisis, they had been ineffective not because they lacked the capacity to act but because they lacked direction, and because Gersina didn't have the heart to act against his treasured son.

It took Sanze three weeks to sort things out. During that time, he sent a small force against Bedaxili's army. They were ordered to do no more than to feint and withdraw so that Bedaxili would gain confidence and become careless. To augment Bedaxili's delusions, as he advanced ever closer to Thania, the occupants steadily evacuated the town. First Gersina and his court retired northwards. Next, units of the army also retreated. The civilian population, ignorant of what was intended, began to panic and many of them also left Thania. Their hasty evacuation suited Sanze's purpose and his forces didn't try to stop them. Finally, when Bedaxili was within two days' march of Thania, Sanze offered him ridiculously generous peace terms that were intended to suggest that the royal forces were weak and panic-stricken.

Then, during the negotiations when Bedaxili and his officers were lulled into complacency, Sanze struck. He used the same tactics that he and Gersina employed when they defeated Vaxili in the desert foothills. Just as on that occasion, after they had slaughtered or dispersed most of the enemy army in a night attack, next morning they had to deal with a hard core of survivors who gathered around their chief for a last stand. When the group surrendered after two hours of hard fighting, all resistance came to an end. The rebellion was over.

When they brought Bedaxili to him, Sanze was shocked to see how much the young man looked like his mother. Even although Bedaxili was dishevelled and frightened, Sanze could see why people praised his good looks and attractiveness. Outwardly, Bedaxili had a manly bearing and the same fresh and open countenance that Sanze remembered from his younger days. But, Sanze asked himself, what were these things worth if the character was weak and the heart was corrupt?

Bedaxili disgusted Sanze. He had not only threatened the stability of Berina but, to compound the offence, he had violated his siblings and had revolted against his father. Filled with revulsion, Sanze had to fight down the urge to strike Bedaxili. Instead, maintaining his composure, Sanze told him, 'You will be taken to Thania where you will be dealt with as you deserve.' Privately, Sanze thought with deep regret that the young man wouldn't be dealt with as he deserved. Gersina would probably only weep over him in maudlin fashion, rap him on the knuckles, and then set him free with a fond pat on the head. After that, no doubt, Bedaxili would continue his dissolute, corrupt, conniving way.

It seemed that Bedaxili had most of the faults and weaknesses of his grandfather without having Vaxili's one notable virtue, namely personal courage. Bedaxili was cringing and shaking with fear. He stammered, 'May I speak to you privately?'

Sanze growled, 'No, you may not! If you want to say something, say it right here.'

Snivelling, Bedaxili looked around and then leaned forward and said in a mumbling attempt at confidentiality, 'If you release me, I can offer you wealth and a good position.'

'Oh, you can make offers like that, can you?'

'Of course! I'm the king's oldest son and I'm heir to the throne.'

'More reason why I won't release you! In fact, I wouldn't release you if you offered me ten kingdoms.'

Bedaxili dropped to his knees and shuffled forward until he was right at Sanze's feet. He cried, 'I beg you, have pity on me.' He was sobbing.

Sanze looked down at the pathetic creature at his feet, took a step backward to prevent Bedaxili from touching him, and asked, 'Why should I pity you?'

'For my mother's sake! I beg you, have pity for her sake.' Bedaxili lunged forward, grasped Sanze's ankles, and pressed his forehead against Sanze's feet. Sanze tried to shake him off but Bedaxili was clinging to him like a drowning swimmer.

Sanze asked in disgust, 'Should I pity you in the same way as you pitied your sister, your brother, and your father?'

'I regret what I have done. I apologise. I beg you—have pity on me!'

Sanze managed to shake one of his feet free and kicked Bedaxili so hard that he sprawled backwards. As Bedaxili lay there on his back in the dust trembling and snivelling, Sanze pressed his sword to his throat and asked, 'Do you admit that you are a scheming wretch who shouldn't even be allowed to carry the shit buckets from the poorest hovel in Berina?'

'Yes. I admit it.'

'Do you admit that a wretch like you who rapes his sister, kills his brother, and betrays his father isn't fit to live?' Sanze applied pressure to the sword.

'Yes. I admit it!' As Sanze pressed the sword harder into Bedaxili's throat, he screeched, 'Have pity, I beg you!'

One of Sanze's commanders whispered urgently, 'Have a care, general! We must return him to his father unharmed.'

Bedaxili wriggled to his knees and tried to crawl away. Sanze struck him on the side of his head with the flat of his sword and Bedaxili sprawled on the ground, screaming in fear and pain, clutching his forehead. Someone grasped Sanze's arm, saying, 'Careful, general! He must not be harmed.'

The writhing creature on the ground filled Sanze with disgust, more so when he reflected that this flabby offal-bag was the heir to the throne of Berina. Worse still, he knew that Gersina would set Bedaxili free to rape, murder, plot and scheme again. Even although he complained about them, Gersina never could do the hard, necessary thing when it came to his wives and children. More than ever, Sanze wished that Gersina had left him alone in peace among the islands. But now that he was here and was forced to deal with these matters, he would do Berina a favour for old time's sake. Sanze shook off the restraining hand, drew back his arm, and plunged his sword into Bedaxili's throat. Bedaxili gurgled and toppled over. Someone wrestled the sword free from Sanze's hand and someone else seized his arms to prevent him from drawing his dagger. It didn't matter. Bedaxili was dead. Whatever the future held for Berina, Bedaxili wouldn't be there to contaminate it.

When Sanze arrived in Thania, Gersina refused to see him. In any case, Gersina was in no state to see anyone at all. Sanze heard that when Gersina heard that Bedaxili was dead, he let out a howl of anguish and dropped to the floor insensible. Then, when he recovered consciousness, he reeled around the palace calling down curses on Sanze. After that, Gersina staggered to the temple where he prostrated himself in front of the altar, tearing at his clothes and begging Zabrazal to withdraw his anger and to smile on his house at last. If Zabrazal was listening, he must have been grimly amused at the return of the apostate in this fashion. In between his supplications, Gersina continued to curse Sanze while, his clothes having been reduced to shreds, he tore at his flesh with his fingernails. When Gersina finally collapsed, his attendants had to half-carry and half-drag him from the temple to the palace. There they heaved him into bed, where he lay moaning and shivering in a fevered, semi-conscious state.

That night Sanze lay in his room cursing himself for a fool. In the longer run, what did it matter if he had shored up Gersina's position and had done away with a rotten apple like Bedaxili? What did one apple matter when the whole barrel was already thoroughly infected? There would be no end to the intrigues while Gersina's scheming wives were alive to encourage their scheming children. More than ever, Sanze wished to the bottom of his heart that Gersina had left him alone. He wished that instead of sailing from Terfillere to the mainland, he had bribed the captain of the ship to set him down among the farthest of the outer islands. From there, rather than return to Berina, he would gladly have headed for the realms of weed-filled seas, icy winds, and eerie howls. Alone if necessary, he would have sailed as far as he could, following the clouds until he was becalmed forever or was lost in the endlessness of the Endless Ocean. Anything, anything at all, would have been better than returning to Berina to open old wounds and to become enmeshed again in these intractable troubles and intrigues.

Before morning, Sanze went down with a fever as severe as the one that afflicted him after the second battle of Gandonda. In his delirium, he repeatedly had the same dream. A blurred shape behind Dana restrained her as she called out and struggled to come to him. Sanze cried out to her, 'You are safe now, Dana, you are safe. Come to me.' Then suddenly she was free. She ran towards him, one arm outstretched, and one arm stretched across her throat: but the more she ran, and the more he ran towards her, the more they remained apart. However, now the dream was overlaid by a vision of Bedaxili, who rose up between them flinging his head backwards to expose the gash in his throat and taunting him as he gestured to Dana, who remained as distant as ever. Then Dana flung her arm aside and threw back her head to expose her own wound, and Sanze felt himself sinking into a sea of clutching darkness even while he reached out to her.

When Sanze regained a semblance of consciousness, he half-turned his head, expecting for a moment to see Zaliek sitting next to him. Instead he saw an old woman, one of the palace nurses, and he began to remember where he was. As his head cleared, again he cursed himself for a fool. After the nurse wiped his forehead, helped him to change his undershirt, and gave him some water, she muttered something and left the room. He heard the click of the latch as she locked the door behind her. Soon she returned with the commander of the palace guard. Stiffly, he informed Sanze that he was confined to the room until further notice.

That was two days ago. They bring Sanze food and water but will say nothing. His room, which is on the top floor of the palace, overlooks the great courtyard. From his window, he watches them coming and going—orderlies, soldiers, servants, merchants, and others. He has seen Trani twice, making her regal way across the paving stones. She looks more beautiful than ever. Being a royal consort suits her. She dresses resplendently in robes that enhance her slender form and set off her dark sultriness. On both occasions her two younger sons, Gersina's children, accompany her. Sanze wonders where her older son is, the boy that she had by Zaliek. Is he studying at the Academy of Philosophy as Zaliek wanted him to do? Sanze doubts it, and he fears for him.

Sanze did see Gersina when he limped and struggled across the courtyard, helped by two attendants. Halfway across, Gersina paused to gather his breath, panting and wiping the sweat from his brow even although the day was cool. When he stumbled, both attendants had to exert their full strength to stop him from crashing to the ground. He never looked in Sanze's direction.

Sanze knows that he won't leave here alive. Sooner or later, Gersina will send them to attend to him. Damn Gersina! Why didn't he leave him alone among the islands to serve out his time in peace and quiet? What did Gersina say to him, the last time that he spoke with him— that Sanze was the nearest that he had come to an honest man? If that's what Gersina really thought, then he should have known that honesty is incompatible with serving the destiny of the kingdom. Cleansing winds, pure air, and pleasant vistas might surround the heights of a mountain range; but that is not the case with the heights of Berina, or of any other kingdom. As they struggled upwards, thought Sanze, they accumulated dirt and grime along the way. They compromised themselves, easing their consciences with the consolation that it was all for the good of the kingdom. One day, they said, they would reach the heights and would find them to be glorious and unsullied. Also, they told themselves, when they reached their goal, then their old, soiled clothes would wither away, and they would find themselves dressed splendidly in fresh and gleaming garments. More than that, they would be completely made over, ennobled and re-invigorated as new creatures, fit to match the new circumstances. Ha! thought Sanze in disgust. They were deluded fools. They didn't recognise—perhaps chose not to know—that the heights of Berina were things of their own making. That's all that they were—reflections of themselves—nothing more.

Yesterday Sanze removed his belt, folded it, and sent it to Gersina. As he handed it to the attendant, Sanze noticed that the old stain was still visible against the burnt sheen of the worn leather. He examined the stain, surprised to find it there after so long.

The attendant asked, 'What is that, sir?'

Sanze was about to say 'Nothing of consequence' when he thought, 'Why should he not know who he is dealing with? Why should he not know that Sanze also did great things for Berina when the nation's fate was in the balance?'

Sanze asked him, 'Have you heard of Kainar?'

'Kainar? No, sir, I can't say that I have.'

Sanze looked at the attendant. By Zabrazal, he was young! Life hadn't even curdled the corners of his mouth. How could he remember Kainar and the time when he, Sanze, served the kingdom well by leaving Kainar dead in the gateway of Oridrin? Sanze said wearily, 'Never mind. It doesn't matter now.' He gave the belt to the attendant, saying, 'Deliver this to the king.'

'Any message with it, sir?'

'No. The king will know what it means.'

This time, Sanze knows that Gersina will keep the belt—or, more likely, he will have it destroyed. Whatever the case, it won't be returned.

Who knows what awaits him when they have done with him? Perhaps at last he might be set free to drift with the clouds over the Endless Ocean, looking down on the islands set in the water like green and brown and ochre pearls in the neck-piece of a gown. Best of all, after all this time, he might be able to do it with Dana. Who knows?

THE END

Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, won't you please take a moment to leave me a review at your favorite retailer? Thanks! Brian H Jones

