Setoc found her heart was pounding hard and rapid in her chest. Her mouth was suddenly dry. Destriant. Have I heard that word before? Did Toc so name me? Or was it someone else? ‘I am not interested in violence,’ she said.
When Cartographer relayed her reply, Gruntle glanced once at the undead wolf standing between the twins-Baaljagg’s bristled back was unmistakable-and then the Mortal Sword momentarily bared impressive fangs, before nodding once and sheathing his weapons. And then he froze, as the twins’ brother toddled forward, seemingly heading straight for Gruntle.
‘Klavklavklavklav!’
Setoc saw the Trell start at that, turning to study the boy who now stood directly in front of Gruntle with arms outspread.
‘He wants Gruntle to pick him up,’ Setoc said.
‘I’m sure Gruntle can see that,’ said Cartographer. ‘A most fearless child. The word he seeks is Imass. I did not think such things even existed. Imass children, I mean.’
Gruntle snatched up the boy, who yelped in delight, filling the night air with laughter.
Setoc heard Baaljagg’s low growl and glanced over. Although the undead beast made no move, the black pits of its eyes were fixed-as much as could be determined-upon the Mortal Sword and the child he held. ‘Getting killed once wasn’t enough?’ she asked the giant wolf. ‘The pup needs no help.’
The twins had edged closer to Setoc, who now dismounted. ‘It’s all right,’ she said to them.
‘Mother said cats were teeth and claws without brains,’ said Storii. She pointed at Gruntle. ‘He looks like his mother slept with a cat.’
‘Your brother isn’t afraid.’
‘Too stupid to be scared,’ said Stavi.
‘These ones,’ said Setoc, ‘fought off the sky demon, but they didn’t kill it, else we would have found the carcass. Would we be safer with or without them?’
‘I wish Toc was here.’
‘So do I, Storii.’
‘Where were they going, anyway? There’s nothing in the Wastelands.’
At Storii’s question Setoc shrugged. ‘I can’t quite get an answer to that yet, but I will keep trying.’
The two women had returned to tending their wounded companions. The tall young man remained off to one side, looking agitated. Setoc stepped closer to Cartographer. ‘What is wrong with that man?’
‘It is, I am told, ever a misjudgement to view a Bole of the Mott Irregulars with contempt. Amby is angry and that anger is slow to fade. His brother is sorely wounded, near death, in fact.’
‘Does he blame Gruntle or Mappo for that?’
‘Hardly. Oh, I gather that both of those you speak of fought valiantly against the sky demon-certainly, the Mortal Sword is made for such encounters. But neither Gruntle nor Mappo succeeded in driving the creature away. The Boles despise such things as demons and the like. And once awakened to anger, they prove deadly against such foes. Precious Thimble calls it a fever. But Master Quell suggested that the Boles themselves are the spawn of sorcery, perhaps a Jaghut creation gone awry. Would that explain the Boles’ extravagant hatred for Jaghut? Possibly. In any case, it was Amby and Jula Bole who sent the demon fleeing. But the residue of that fury remains in Amby, suggesting that he maintains his readiness should the demon be foolish enough to return.’
Setoc studied the man with renewed interest, and more than a little disbelief. What did he do to it, bite it with those huge front teeth?
Cartographer then said, ‘Earlier, you mentioned Toc. We here all know him. Indeed, it was Toc who guided us from the realm of Dragnipur. And Gruntle, why, he once got drunk with Toc Anaster-that would be before Toc got himself killed, one presumes.’
The twins were listening to this, and Setoc saw relief in their eyes. More friends of Toc. Will that do, girls? Seemed it would.
‘Cartographer, what is a Destriant?’
‘Ah. Well. A Destriant is one who is chosen from among all mortals to wear the skin of a god.’
‘The-the skin?’
‘Too poetic? Let me think, then. Look into the eyes of a thousand priests. If there is a Destriant among that thousand, you will find him or her. How? The truth is in their eyes, for you shall, in looking into those eyes, find yourself looking upon the god’s own.’
‘Toc bears a wolf’s eye.’
‘Because he is the Herald of War.’
The title chilled her. ‘Then why is his other eye not a wolf’s eye, too?’
‘It was human, I’m sure.’
‘Exactly. Why?’