Shurq Elalle turned to Skorgen. ‘Get everything ready. There truly is no time to waste.’
The first mate turned away and then glanced back at Shurq. ‘If that’s the case, then why in Mael’s name is she—’
‘That will be enough, Pretty.’
‘Aye, Cap’n. Sorry, Cap’n. On my way, aye.’
Queen Abrastal, I will deliver your daughter into your keeping. With every blessing I can muster. Take her, I beg you. Before I close my hands round that soft delicious neck and squeeze until her brains spurt from every hole in her head. And then her handmaid will have to chop me into tiny pieces, and Skorgen will do something stupid and get his head sliced in half and won’t that be a scar worth bragging about?
She could just make out Hood’s trail towards the spire, and caught herself looking at it longingly. Don’t be a fool, woman. Some destinies are better just hearing about, over ales in a tavern .
Go well on your way, Hood. And the next face you see, well, why not just bite it off?
* * *
He had passed through the Gates of Death, and this rain – in its brief moments of magic – could do nothing for ghosts. No kiss of rebirth, and no blinding veil to spare from me what I now see .
Toc sat on his lifeless horse, and from a hillside long vanished – worn down to nothing but a gentle mound by centuries of ploughing – he watched, in horror, the murder of his most cherished dreams.
It was not supposed to happen this way. We could smell the blood, yes – we knew it was coming .
But Onos Toolan – none of this was your war. None of this battle belonged to you .
He could see his old friend – there at the centre of less than a thousand Imass. The fourteen Jaghut had been separated from kin, and now fought in isolation, and archers had come forward and those Jaghut warriors were studded with arrows, yet still they fought on.
The K’ell Hunters had been driven back, pushed away from the Imass, and Toc could see the Toblakai – barely fifty of them left – forced back to the very edge of the slope. There were Barghast on that far side now, but they were few and had arrived staggering, half dead with exhaustion.
Toc found that he was holding his scimitar in his hand. But my power is gone. I gave the last of it away. What holds me here, if not some curse that I be made to witness my failure? Onos Toolan, friend. Brother. I will not await you at the Gates – my shame is too great . He drew up his reins. I will not see you die. I am sorry. I am a coward – but I will not see you die . It was time to leave. He swung his mount round.