Fires of Azeroth

by C. J. Cherryh

  "Am I?" Roh laughed again. "You admit it then, that I am your cousin."

  "A qhal…" — told me, he almost said, what it was like for you. But he was not quite hazed enough to let it slip, and stopped himself in time. Roh looked at him strangely, and then shrugged and let it pass, beginning again to wash at his injuries. Roh's touch hurt, and he winced: Roh swore softly.

  "I cannot help it," Roh said. "Thank Fwar for this. I am as careful as I can be. Be glad of the akil for a while."

  Roh was indeed careful, and skilled; he cleaned the wounds and dressed them with hot oil, and tended those that were fevered. He put hot compresses on the knee, changing them often. In time Vanye let his head fall. Roh disturbed him to look at his eyes, and finally let him sleep, rousing him only when he changed the compresses. It was far into the night, Vanye judged at one of these wakings, and yet Roh disturbed him again, putting heat on the knee. "Roh?" he asked, perplexed by this.

  "I would not have you lame."

  "Someone else might see to it."

  "Who? Fwar? I am scant of servants in this grand hall. Go to sleep, cousin."

  He did so, a quiet sleep, for the first time since Carrhend. This last and better effect the akil left on him, that its passing exhausted him and he was able to rest.

  122

  Fires of Azeroth

  Chapter 9

  Roh roused him again with daylight flooding through the door and hazing through the smoke from the opening overhead. There was food; Vanye bestirred himself and took it, bread and salted fish and a little of Shiuan's sourish drink— for the first time in days, enough to eat, poor though it was and foul with the memory of Shiuan.

  His jaw hurt in eating, and there was little of him elsewhere that was not bruised or wounded. But the knee had freedom of movement this morning, and the pain there, which had become so constant he had ceased even to realize it, had somewhat abated. He did not dress again, but sat with a length of cloth wrapped about him, and Roh saw to it that the hot compress stayed on the knee even at breakfast, a bit of rag constantly aboil in a pot on the fire, one and then the other.

  "Thank you," Vanye said in sum of everything.

  "What, honest gratitude? That is more than I had of you in our last meeting. I think you meant to cut my throat, cousin."

  "I have sense enough to know what I owe you."

  Roh smiled a twisted smile and poured another panful of water into the pot on the fire, then settled and poured himself a cup of the Shiua liquor. He drank of it and grimaced. "Because I did not take advantage of you as I could have done? They would have gone on and on with that drug until you had no sense left what you were doing, and if they had had long enough— well, you would have handed them everything you know, and that would have been enough to save your life… of sorts. You would have lived— perhaps… so long as humiliating you amused them. You do well to thank me. But of course I had to get you out of there; it was only practical. You would have ruined me. For the rest, well, you do owe me, do you not? At least you owe me better than to turn on me."

  Vanye turned up his scarred palm, that was Morgaine's mark, sealed in blood and ash. "I cannot say that, and you know it. Whatever I have done 123

  Fires of Azeroth

  and will do— is under ilin-law. No promise of mine is binding where it crosses that; I have no honor."

  "But you have enough to remind me of it."

  He shrugged, troubled, as Roh had always been able to seize his heart and turn it in him. "You should have looked well on what was happening in that tent last night. They dare not lay hands on you— yet. But they will find a way someday."

  "I know. I know how far I can trust Hetharu, and we passed the borders of that territory long ago."

  "So you surround yourself with the likes of Fwar. You know surely that he and his kindred served Morgaine once. They turned on her when they did not gain of her what they wanted. They will do the same for you the first time you cross their wishes. And that is not my hate speaking. That is the truth."

  "I expect it daily. But the fact remains that Fwar and his men had rather serve me than the khal, reckoning how much the khal love them. The khal have alienated every human in this camp, Hiua, marshlanders— all who have any experience of independence; but the marshlanders do not love Fwar, no, not in the least. Fwar and his Hiua lads are few, hard Men as they are, and he knows that if ever he slips, the marshlanders will put his face in the dirt. Fwar loves power. He must have it, many as his enemies have become. He joined Morgaine while he thought that she would give it to him, while it looked likely that he could remain lieutenant and lord it over conquests. He joined me only when it was clear that he could not deal with the khal and when he realized that I am also a power in this camp.

  Fwar keeps the marshlanders under his heel and that is useful to me. He is essential to my survival here; he is nothing without me and he knows it…

  but so long as I have him in my employ, the khal do not rule Hiua or marshlanders in this camp. And arrogant as the khal are, they do realize that they are outnumbered, and that the Men who still serve them are cattle, of their own making. No Shiua human is a match for marshlander or Hiua, and of course not all the Men who have lived under the khal truly love their masters, not even those Men who wear the brand on their faces.

  124

  Fires of Azeroth

  The khal are really quite terrified of their own servants, and so they redouble their cruelties to keep them cowed… but that is not a thing to say openly. For one thing, it would not be good to have Men find it out, would it?— Another bit of bread?"

  "I cannot."

  "Things among them have changed since Hetharu came to power," Roh continued with a shake of his head. "There was an urge to decency in some of these folks. But in the passage, only the strongest survived; they were generally not the fittest to live."

  "You chose Hetharu for your ally… when you had other choices."

  "I did, yes." Roh refilled both their cups. "To my lasting sorrow, I chose him. I have always been unfortunate in my allies. —Cousin… where do you reckon Morgaine is?"

  Vanye swallowed at a bit suddenly gone dry and reached for the cup, drank deeply and ignored the question.

  "The place she attempted to reach over by the river," Roh said, "is surely the control itself… I believe so; Hetharu surely does. Hetharu's patrols will scour that area… will have been doing so in searching for her.

  Hetharu wants the Hiua sent back out on her trail. I am not eager to send Fwar from me, for obvious reasons; Fwar himself is not at all anxious to go, but that even he sees the danger if that weapon of hers goes to Hetharu's men. Hetharu himself is terrified, I do not doubt, of someone like Shien… of even his own folk getting possession of it. I do not, I confess, like to think of Fwar holding it either. Of course Fwar should have let you lie under that horse and gone after her; he realizes that now, in cold blood, but… he is afraid of her: he has faced her weapons before, and it was fear that obscured his good sense— fear and his obsessive hate of you. He dared an arrow against her at distance, but facing Changeling… well, that is quite another matter, at least in his thoughts of the moment. Fwar sometimes needs time to reckon clearly where his advantage truly lies; his instincts for survival on the instant sometimes 125

  Fires of Azeroth

  overwhelm those for the long range. He regrets that choice now; but the moment has passed— saving your help, of course."

  "Then it has passed," he said; the words almost choked him. "I will not help you."

  "Peace, peace, I advise you against any attack on me. And put khalur tactics from your mind; I could have done the same as they last night, if I would. No, I am the only safety you have here."

  "Liell tended to allies like Fwar: bandits, cutthroats— a hall that would have had fit place in Shiuan, for all it was human-held. I find you unchanged— and my chances equal, here and there."

  Roh's eyes clouded, cleared again slowly. "I do not blame you. I loathe my
companions, as you warned me I would… but you forced me to them.

  They will kill me when they can; of course they will. You are safe here just as I am… only because Hetharu still fears a rising in the human camp if he comes and tries to take you; I could do that to him, and he fears it.

  Besides, he has reason to wait."

  "What reason?"

  "The hope that at any hour one of his patrols may ride in bearing Morgaine's weapons… and in that hour, my friend, we are both dead men.

  And there is yet another danger: that perhaps you and I and Morgaine are not the only ones in this land who can use the power of the Gate; perhaps there is knowledge to be had elsewhere in this land. And if that is so— Is it so, Vanye?"

  He said nothing, trying to keep all reaction from his face.

  "I suspect that there could be," Roh said. "Whatever else we have to fear, the sword is beyond doubt. It was madness ever to have made such a thing. Morgaine knows it, I am sure. And the thought of that… I know what is written in the runes on that blade, at least the gist of it. And that should never have been written."

  126

  Fires of Azeroth

  "She knows it."

  "Can you walk? Come here. I will show you something."

  He strove to rise, and Roh lent his hand and steadied him as he limped across the shelter to the far side where Roh wished to lead him. There Roh flung back a ragged curtain, and showed him the horizon.

  And there was the Gate, afire with shimmering colder than moonlight.

  Vanye gazed at it, and shuddered at that nearness, at the presence of that power that he had learned to dread.

  "It is not good to look at, is it?" Roh asked. "It drinks up the mind like water. It hovers over us here. I have lived in that presence until it burns through the curtains and the wall. There is no peace with that thing. And the Men who live here, and the khal— feel it. Because of her they have feared to leave it; and now they are beginning to fear to stay near it. Some may leave it and go out. Those who do stay here… will go mad."

  Vanye turned from it, would have left Roh's help and risked falling, but Roh went with him and helped him down on the mat by the fire.

  Roh sank down then on his heels, arms folded across his knees, and settled further, crosslegged. "So you see the other source of insanity in this place, deadlier than the akil. And far more powerful." He picked up his cup and drank it to the last, shuddered and swallowed heavily. "Vanye, I want you to guard my back for a time, as you have guarded hers."

  "You are mad."

  "No. I know you. There is no man more reliable. Save that other oath of yours, I know that any promise you give freely will be kept. And I am tired, Vanye." Roh's voice broke suddenly, and pain was in the brown eyes. "I ask only that you do this until it crosses your oath to her."

  "That might be at any time I decide it is. And I owe you no warning."

  "I know. Still I ask you. Only that."

  127

  Fires of Azeroth

  He was bewildered, and turned the thing over and over in his mind, finding no trap in it. At last he nodded. "Until then, I will do what I can.

  As I am— that is little. I do not understand you, Roh. I think you have something in mind, and I do not trust you."

  "I have said what I want. For now— I will leave awhile. Sleep; do what you choose, so long as you stay in this shelter. There is clothing there if you must have it, but do not walk on that leg; keep the compresses on it, if you have any sense."

  "If Fwar comes within my reach—"

  "He would not come alone; you know him. Do not look for that kind of trouble. I will keep my eye in Fwar's direction, and you will not have to worry where he is." He gathered himself up and slung on his sword, but he left his bow and quiver.

  And as he left he dropped the flap that curtained the door, taking most of the daylight.

  Vanye lay down where he was and curled up to sleep, drawing a blanket over him. None did come to trouble his rest; and after a long while Roh returned, with no word of what he had been doing, though his face was weary.

  "I am going to sleep," Roh said, and flung himself down on his unused pallet "Wake me if it is necessary."

  It was a strange vigil, to know the Gate on one side and khalur enemies on the other, and himself keeping watch over the kinsman he had sworn to kill. And he had leisure to think of Morgaine, counting the days since their parting… the fourth day, now, when any wound would have reached and passed its crisis one way or the other.

  Through the day he kept the compresses on the knee, and in late afternoon, Roh changed the dressings on his wounds and left him again a time, returning with food. Then Roh let him sleep, but waked him midway through the night and wished him to sit awake again while he slept.

  128

  Fires of Azeroth

  He looked at Roh, wondering what was afoot that Roh dared not have them both asleep; but Roh cast himself down on his face as if the weariness on him were unbearable, as if it were more than last night that he had not slept securely. He stayed awake until the dawn, and drowsed the next morning, while Roh pursued his own business outside.

  * * *

  He waked suddenly, at a footstep. It was Roh, and there was commotion in the camp. He looked in that direction, questioning, but Roh sat down and laid his sword on the mat beside him, then poured himself a drink. His hands were shaking. "It will settle," Roh said finally. "There has been a suicide. A man, a woman, and two children. Such things happen here."

  He looked at Roh in horror, for such things did not happen in Andur-Kursh.

  Roh shrugged. "One of the khal's latest. They pushed the man to it. And that is only the edge of evils here. The Gate—" He shrugged again, that became a shudder. "It broods over all here."

  The curtain of the doorway was thrust back, and Vanye saw their visitors: Fwar and his men. He reached for the jug of liquor, not to drink; Roh's hand clenched on his wrist, reminding him of sense.

  "It is settled," Fwar said, avoiding Vanye's eyes, staring at Roh. "The khal gave grain; the kin have begun to bury their dead. But it will not stay settled. Not while this other matter has them stirred up. Hetharu is pushing at us. We cannot have men there and here. We are not enough to be in both places."

  Roh was silent a moment. "Hetharu is playing a dangerous game," he said in a still voice. "Sit down, Fwar, you and your men."

  "I will not sit with this dog."

  129

  Fires of Azeroth

  "Fwar, sit down. Do not try my patience."

  Fwar considered it long, and sullenly sank down at the fireside, his cousins with him.

  "You ask too much of me," Vanye muttered.

  "Have peace with them," Roh said. "On your word to me: this is part of it."

  He inclined his head sullenly, looked up at Fwar. "Under Roh's peace, then."

  "Aye," Fwar answered gracelessly, but Vanye gave it no more belief than he would have given Hetharu's word… less, if possible.

  "I will tell you why you will keep peace," Roh said. "Because we are all about to perish, between the khal and the marshlanders. Because that—"

  He hooked a gesture over his shoulder to the wall which concealed the Gate, and the glances that went that way were uncomfortable. "— That is a thing that will drive us mad if we stay here. And we need not. Must not."

  "Where, then?" Fwar asked, and Vanye set his jaw and stared at the mat to conceal his own startlement. He was afraid, suddenly, mind leaping ahead to unavoidable conclusions; he trusted nothing that Roh did, but he had no choice but to accept it. Fwar was the alternative; or the others.

  "Nhi Vanye has a certain usefulness," Roh said softly. "He knows the land. He knows Morgaine. And he knows his chances in this camp."

  "And with the likes of them, " Vanye said, and there was almost a dagger drawn, but Roh snatched up his sheathed longsword and thrust it at Trin's middle, stopping that with cold threat.

  "Peace, I say, or none of us will live to get clea
r of this camp… or survive the journey afterward."

  Fwar motioned at Trin, and the dagger went back solidly into its sheath.

  130

  Fires of Azeroth

  "There is more than you think at stake," Roh said. "That will become clear later. But prepare for a journey. Be ready to ride tonight."

  "The Shiua will follow."

  "Follow they may. You have itched for killing them. You will have your chance. But my cousin is another matter. Keep your knives from his back.

  Hear me well, Fwar i Mija. I need him, and so do you. Kill him, and the Shiua will be on one side and the folk of this land on the other, and that is a position no better than we have now. Do you understand me?"

  "Aye," Fwar said.

  "Start seeing to things quietly. As for me, I am not involving myself in any of your preparations. The Shiua have been urging me to send you out on a certain mission; if you are challenged, say that you are going. And if you stir up trouble— well, avoid it. Go to it."

  They gathered themselves up. Vanye did not look at them, but stared into the fire, and glanced up only when he had heard the last of them walk away.

  "Whom do you betray, Roh? Everyone?"

  Roh's dark eyes met his. "All but you, my cousin."

  The mockery chilled. He looked down again, unable to meet that stare, which challenged him to doubt, and to do something about it.

  "I will go with you."

  "And guard my back?"

  He glared at Roh.

  "It is from Fwar that I need most guarding, cousin. I will guard you, and you, me— when Fwar and his folk hold watch during the night. One of us will be awake, and seem asleep."

  131

  Fires of Azeroth