Pilgrim. Sara Douglass
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The soldiers relaxed a little, impressed with the fact that Leagh knew their names. But then, she’d been tireless this past week, moving among the campfires of the army each night, spending a few minutes and words at each. And although Zared had done the same, Leagh had always managed to raise a few more, and far more genuine, smiles.
“I ask you to wait,” Zared said. He smiled lopsidedly. “None of us can know where, or how, to move until Drago and Faraday return.”
“And yet,” Askam’s voice cut in from the side, “some people might think you should be out there, saving as much of Tencendor as you can, Zared. After all, is that not what Axis asked you to do?”
“And I will do so,” Zared said, keeping his tone even, “when I know how it is that I may keep most of these men alive.”
“You would put your trust in someone as treacherous as Drago?” Askam asked. “Or as unknown as Faraday?”
“Faraday is hardly ‘unknown’, Askam,” Leagh said, her voice sharp. If her husband necessarily had to guard her tongue in front of Askam, then she did not. “She died for —”
“Ah,” Askam said dismissively, turning away as if to walk into the forest. “And yet here she walks again. Not quite ‘dead’, is she? What did she promise to the Demons to get her life back? The green fields of Tencendor? The jewelled corridors of the Minaret Peaks? And I hardly need start on Drago — that man has never had anything but deadly intentions for Tencendor, or for anyone who steps in his path.”
“No-one can blame you for being scared, Askam,” said a voice to the side, “but you should learn to look beyond past grievances. Don’t fight that which may well save your life.”
“Faraday!” Zared strode forward and helped her from her donkey, relieved beyond measure that she was back. He looked over to Drago. The man was different. Sadder, almost.
“Drago?”
“Soon, Zared, but —”
A lizard scrambled from the donkey’s back and scrambled up the nearest tree. Everyone’s eyes widened in surprise.
“— a meal first would surely be appreciated.”
Sitting about the fire with Zared and his immediate command, Drago told them what he could.
There was little to say but the worst, and no way to say it but in the worst way possible.
Drago studied his hands, and when he looked up his face was neutral. “Qeteb must be allowed to live,” he said.
The listeners erupted with exclamations, and Drago held up his hand for silence.
“There is worse.”
“And why am I not surprised?” Askam muttered under his breath, but none heard.
He shot a glance at Faraday. Askam wasn’t fooled by her. She sat close by Drago’s side, her lovely face demure, her eyes downcast, but Askam wondered if she wasn’t casting some spell to enchant all into Drago’s web.
“Tencendor will be devastated by the Demons,” Drago said softly. “Especially with Qeteb at their head. The land will be destroyed. It must be.”
“Why say this?” Zared cried. “You think this is going to help?”
“Zared … everyone … please listen to what I say before judging either the speaker or the message.”
Drago paused and thought carefully before continuing. The journey through the Silent Woman Woods with Faraday had given him time to think and to reason things out, and what he’d come to understand needed to be said carefully, and yet plainly.
“You all know the tensions of the past, tensions that have been present within Tencendor for over a thousand years. Not even Axis’ battle against Gorgrael managed to truly unite the three peoples of Tencendor. Sin, bias, bigotry, dissent and distrust still walk the land. Tencendor must be ravaged clean to … wait! … let me finish! All the bigotry and distrust must be burned clean before the peoples of Tencendor can find the heart and the courage to truly unite against the Demons.
“The field must be left fallow for it to flower full bright in the season that follows the night.”
Zared dropped his gaze. He could not trust himself to speak.
If Zared thought it best not to immediately vent his anger, then StarDrifter had no hesitation in speaking his mind.
“But to allow Tencendor to become a wasteland.” His face was tight and ashen, his pale blue eyes furious. “Allow Qeteb to arise? How can —”
“I am sorry, StarDrifter. But Qeteb must be allowed to live before he can be killed. Nothing ‘unalive’ can be made dead.”
“And how is this killing to eventuate?” StarDrifter asked, no less angry.
“With the magic of this land combined with the magic of the Enemy’s craft,” Drago replied.
“There is no magic of the land remaining,” StarDrifter said, making an emphatic gesture with his hand. “None.”
“No.” Faraday turned from watching Zared to look at StarDrifter. “You are wrong. This land reeks with enchantment. We must learn how to use it.”
“And the magic of the craft?” Zenith asked. She hated what Drago said, but she also believed they had no option but to trust him.
“We must learn to use that as well,” Drago said. “Faraday is to seek —”
“For the gods’ sakes!” Askam shifted irritably. “No doubt you are going to blind our senses and woo our favour by speaking of some glittering and glorious quest. Bah! You speak of nothing but dreams. Caelum will help us, and he will do right by us. He will not allow this Qeteb to raise from whatever crypt he is stored in. He will not allow —”
“Askam,” Drago said, fixing the man with his eyes. Both his stare and his voice were steady, and very compelling. “You speak nothing but truth when you say that Caelum will help us and do right by us. I am here to serve this land above all else, and I am here to right what wrongs I have done, to both land and Caelum. But Qeteb must be allowed to rise, for there is no other way he can be destroyed. No-one can fight a memory, not even Caelum.”
“Ha!” Askam said, but his tone was unsteady, and his eyes wavered from Drago’s.
Zared studied Drago. There was something troubling the man, some doubt that ate away at his soul. What doubt? Damn him. What was he hiding? Was it worth the destruction of Tencendor?
Leagh laid a hand on his arm, and Zared lowered his head, fighting to contain his anger and frustration.
“Caelum can’t defeat Qeteb without the Sceptre, Drago,” DareWing said. “All who have seen the Maze Gate agree with that. I do not mean to cast doubts on your words, but —”
“DareWing, there is no offence taken.” Drago paused. “I will return the Sceptre to Caelum. I stole it, and I must return it. Faraday and I will go north to do just that.”
Faraday gave him a sharp look, and then turned her face away.
“I have heard enough,” Zared said in a low voice, then raised his head and stared at Drago. “I have heard enough. I am charged with the care of the peoples of this land, and yet you sit there and say, ‘Let them die.’ You are nothing but —”
“You will listen to what I have to say,” Drago shouted, visibly shocking most in the circle.
He stared at Zared, then moved his eyes to each and every one who sat about the fire. “I am a SunSoar. I am the son of Axis SunSoar and of the Enchantress Azhure. I am a Prince of the House of Stars, and of this moment I am claiming my birthright. Among all of us here, I have the highest birthright, I have the best claim to authority, and I know what must