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"Even Nieroda is human, Gathrid. Dead and immortal, but human. Loneliness is
the price of power. Even Gerdes Mulenex had his good side. You saw that side
in your sister so strongly you couldn't see any other. So it goes. You should
have learned that lesson by being Swordbearer. You tasted a lot of souls."
"There was love in Anyeck, Theis. There was even a spark of it left in
Nieroda."
"That's what I said."
"There was no love in that place we went. Only hatred."
"Hatred born of jealousy. Or envy. Or inability to handle love. Love makes a
family. And love destroyed that one, yet binds them in their dreams. They
don't understand."
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"I'm not sure I do, either."
"To be unable to comprehend love is human too, Gathrid. They still have love
without knowing it. Only Bachesta has lost it entirely. Ulalia has lost care.
His only desire is a peaceful, dreamless sleep."
"And Theis Rogala? What is he in all of that?"
"Once upon a time there was a man named Theis Rogala who was Suchara's lover.
He was a whole man.... Now he guards the blade where a jealous Chuchain
chained her soul. He brings it forth to do battle when he must. To protect its
existence. To help Suchara defend herself. But what's left of that man has
grown weary of the whole mess. I owe, but must I pay forever?"
The dwarf seemed to be thinking aloud rather than speaking to his companion.
"Why slay the Swordbearers?"
"They become too enamored of their roles. They enjoy their might. And they
grow too strong. And she grows fond of them, thinking they might set her free.
She gives them knowledge and power they might wield against her. I can't
permit that. It has to be me. But I dare not use the blade myself. I'd become
enslaved. She knows me too well, and her desperation is too great. So I wait
till she chooses, and hope that someday all the right things happen at all the
right times. But despair gnaws at me like the worms of the earth. I have so
little left to give- unless I do take up the blade."
Evening was coming on. Peasant women were at their cookfires. The aroma of
woodsmoke teased Gathrid's nose. Soon his stomach would compel him to go down
and exchange another bit of Imperial silver for another bowl of burned stew.
He would remain marginally acceptable as long as his money lasted.
He had become an outsider in his homeland.
"Finally, why did you follow me here?"
The dwarf did not respond.
"Theis?"
"To collect Daubendiek."
"I left the Great Sword in Sartain, Theis. I put it aside. I bear only the
blade born in Nieroda's forge."
"You left metal. Not the attachment. There'll be a day when your path swings
back to Sartain, whether you will it or not. She won't let you scorn her."
"It may have to be that only one of us will leave this hill, then, Theis."
"Could be."
"I wouldn't like that. And, Theis? I don't think I'd be the one staying.
You're fast, but I don't think you're fast enough."
Rogala shrugged. "I'm getting older. Because I don't care as much as I once
did. And being blind won't help, will it?"
"Does it always have to be this way?"
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"I don't know what else to do."
Gathrid sighed. Silence stretched till it became oppressive.
Rogala coughed. "I like you, Gathrid. You've become like a son. I don't want
to.... Show the blind old man another way. I taught you the art of killing.
Teach me the art of living."
Gathrid could find no words. The silence stretched again. Finally, he tried,
"You know the secrets of the greats and near-greats of a hundred ages, Theis."
"You've looked into more souls than either of us can count, lad. I've seen
them only from the outside."
"There must be something in all that," the youth agreed. Rogala was trying.
Every path led to the same destination. A death. More blood on this hill that
had seen too much already. The limits seemed inflexible, the end assured.
The sun had declined almost to the horizon, growing bloated and red as it
touched the distant earth. The night would be here soon, and with it, perhaps,
a longer night. Rogala would sense the gathering darkness. He would move when
the sight advantage had disappeared.
Gathrid thought, I should kill him now. Quick as he is, he can't outdance this
sword.
He could not cut the man down. Had the victim been anyone else... He just did
not have Rogala's murder in him.
Was Suchara staying his hand?
He let his senses range.... Was that a calling, way over there, hovering on
the edge of perception?
"Don't do it, Theis. You're dead if it clears its scabbard."
"I've taught too well."
"Maybe. I see two choices, Theis. We can join forces. We can find your Suchara
and waken her. Or one of us can die here. Maybe both. You don't seem capable
of letting it go."
"You know I can't."
"What happens if she returns?"
"The others perish."
"I know that. I mean, what would happen to you and me? And my world?"
"I don't know. I don't care about the world. It's not mine anymore. She's what
interests me."
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