Pilgrim. Sara Douglass

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Pilgrim - Sara  Douglass


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you say, Drago.”

      StarDrifter stared at his grandson, his eyes intense, and Drago looked away quickly, not liking the knowledge he saw there. He began to say something else, but Zared forestalled him.

      “I do have one small problem,” he said.

      Drago raised an eyebrow.

      “How do I get myself and my thirty thousand back to Carlon? Isfrael and StarDrifter shall have the forests to protect them, but you seem to calmly assume I can just wander back across the Plains of Tare with my army and all their cursed horses as if we are out for a seventh-day picnic. There is no shelter!

      “Shade will protect you,” Drago said evenly. “All you must ensure is that your army can access shade during the Demonic Hours —”

       “There is no shade between these damned Woods and Carlon!”

      “Carry it with you.”

      “Carry it with me? Carry it with me? Shall I uproot these trees, then, and carry them with me?”

      “A cloth against the sun or moon is all you require, Zared. Perhaps stretched over poles. The most basic of tents, enough to shelter you and your horses.”

      “A tent? How am I supposed to get enough material —”

      “I can give you what you need to move your army,” Isfrael said.

      Zared’s eyes widened. “Do you have a thousand bolts of cloth secreted somewhere?”

      “You will be surprised by what I and mine have secreted within these trees.”

      Zared almost pressed Isfrael, then realised there was no point. “I thank you,” he said, then looked back to Drago.

      “I have spoken as I did through anger,” he said. “Anger and frustration. Drago, Prince of the House of the Stars, I will give you everything I can and then more, but only if you can provide my people this Sanctuary. If I watch them shrivel and die because you are wrong, if I watch this land desecrated into nothingness because you are wrong, then know now that I will curse you for all eternity.”

      “If I am wrong, then I will deserve to be so cursed,” Drago said, “and I will embrace it for all eternity. But for now, you will do as I say.”

      Zared stared at him, remembering again the all-consuming scent of lilies, and he nodded.

      As the meeting broke up, Drago moved to speak with StarDrifter and Zenith.

      “Zenith,” he said low, “I need to know what happened in your battle with Niah. How exactly did you expel her?”

      Zenith exchanged a glance with StarDrifter, then told Drago of how Faraday had found her in the shadowlands. Moving back towards the Island of Mist and Memory, where lay Niah, Zenith had eventually forced the Niah-soul into the baby girl that the shared body carried.

      “And then?” Drago asked.

      Zenith took a deep breath, her eyes stricken with the memory. “Then I forced the child from my body, and killed her.”

      “And then? Drago said.

      “WolfStar took the corpse,” StarDrifter said, sliding a protective arm about Zenith. “Drago, why push Zenith on this? It is over and done with.”

      Drago rubbed his eyes. “No,” he said quietly. “It is only just beginning. WolfStar is in the waterways. He is moving between the craft — with the baby’s corpse.”

      “But why?” Zenith said.

      “I think he seeks to reconstitute her in the same way that the TimeKeepers look to —”

      “No!” Zenith cried.

      “And the Demons?” StarDrifter asked. “How is it possible that WolfStar can —”

      Drago looked him directly in the eye. “I think the Demons are allowing him to do it. I do not know the ‘why’ of it, but I most certainly do not like it.”

       17 The Donkeys’ Tantrum

      Leagh walked slowly among the trees, smiling at the groups of soldiers she passed. Sometimes she found it difficult to believe over thirty thousand were sheltered in these Woods. Separated by the trees into small groups, the entire army seemed to merge into the gloom.

      She stopped by one lieutenant. “Jaspar, has the Prince Askam passed this way?”

      “Through there, my lady.” Jaspar, one of Askam’s command, was not quite sure what to call Leagh. Princess or Queen? What did his allegiance dictate? And who did he owe his allegiance to? Askam … or Zared?

      Leagh almost walked off in the direction Jaspar indicated, then paused. “Jaspar, the Prince Drago —” why was it that no-one had thought to accord him his proper title, either? “— has just said something that I think is very pertinent. Tencendor can no longer let petty rivalries and bigotries continue to tear it asunder. If nothing else, Jaspar, give Zared your loyalty because Caelum has asked it of you.”

      Jaspar nodded unhappily, and Leagh sighed, and turned away.

      She found Askam standing among the horse lines, stroking the neck of his bay stallion.

      “Askam?” Leagh walked up and smiled, giving the horse a pat herself. “I think the horses appreciate the gentle rest they find among these trees.”

      He didn’t answer her, refusing to even meet her eyes.

      “Askam …” Leagh’s voice almost broke, and she had to clear her throat. “Askam, we are tied by blood so close that nothing should come between us. Please —”

      He turned to stare at her. “Zared has come between us, sister. You gave him the West when you decided to run away with him and marry him against all wishes. You, only you, denuded me of my heritage.”

      Leagh dropped her eyes, burying her fingers in the glossy coat of the horse in an effort to find strength. “I apologise with every beat of my heart for that deception. But Askam …” She raised her eyes, and now they were bright with tears. “Askam, it was what our people wanted, too. Can’t you understand that? Carlon rang with joy when Zared rode in —”

      “He must have paid them to —”

      “Oh, damn you to everlasting torment in the Bogle Marshes, Askam! No-one can pay for unfeigned joy! It is freely given, not purchased! I struggled for weeks myself, not knowing what to do, thinking that I had betrayed you for love of Zared —”

      “You had!”

      “— but what he did was not through blind ambition, Askam, but for the people of the Acharite —”

      “You are blind, Leagh, to so argue. Gods! The man took you because through you he could gain control of the West. Of Achar. And now? Now he has virtual control of Tencendor while Caelum meditates in Star Finger!”

      Askam was shouting now, his hazel eyes furious, his cheeks flushed. “No! What am I saying? That eternal traitor Drago has control of Tencendor. Leagh, I cannot believe what I witnessed there! Everyone from erstwhile Enchanters to the be-twigged Isfrael himself rolled over to let him scratch their bellies. What are they going to do next? Learn to crouch before him and beg for morsels from his plate? What about Caelum for the gods’ sakes? He is the one to whom they owe their ultimate loyalty.”

      Leagh tried one last time. “If there is one thing I have learned over the past months, Askam, it is that people will willingly tear out their hearts for a man who will do rather than expect.”

      “I expected loyalty,” Askam said flatly, “and I received nothing but


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