The Crippled God

it pleases me to introduce—’
    ‘No need,’ Tavore replied, setting her regard upon Shelemasa. The Adjunct stepped forward, forcing apart the Mortal Sword and the queen. ‘I assume you are Shelemasa, who succeeded in rallying the survivors of the Charge, guiding the retreat and so saving many lives. It is said you were the last to leave the field. Your presence here honours us all.’ She paused, and then turned to Hanavat. ‘Precious mother,’ she said, ‘I grieve for your terrible losses. It grieves me too that, in this time, your husband dwells only upon his own losses. It is my hope that he soon awakens to the gifts remaining in his life.’ Tavore looked at the others. ‘Hanavat and Shelemasa are Khundryl Burned Tears, our longest-standing allies. Their sacrifice on the day of the Nah’ruk saved the lives of thousands. On this day, as upon every other, I value their counsel. Fist Kindly, find a chair for Hanavat – it is not proper that she stand with her child so near.’
    Aranict saw Hanavat fighting back tears, welling up behind her astonishment, and if the two women now stood taller than they had a moment earlier … Adjunct Tavore, you continue to surprise us .
    Tavore returned to her original position. ‘The Bonehunters,’ she said, ‘have had enough time to lick their wounds. Now we must march in earnest.’
    Krughava’s voice was harsh with suppressed emotion. ‘We are sworn to—’
    ‘Serve me,’ the Adjunct snapped. ‘You have sworn to serve me, and that I need to remind you of this pains me, Mortal Sword.’
    ‘You do not,’ Krughava said in a tone like honed iron. ‘Your army is damaged, Adjunct. We stand before you – all of us here – and would pledge ourselves to your cause—’
    ‘Not quite,’ cut in Queen Abrastal, ‘since I don’t yet understand that cause, and by the look on the face of Prince Brys I suspect he shares my unease.’
    Krughava hissed a curse in her own language, and then tried again.‘Adjunct. Now is the time to coalesce our respective forces, thus bolstering our strength—’
    ‘No.’
    The word struck like a knife driven into the floor between them.
    The colour left Krughava’s face. ‘If you doubt our loyalty or courage—’
    ‘I do not,’ Tavore replied. ‘In fact, I am depending on it.’
    ‘But this makes no sense!’
    The Adjunct turned to Abrastal. ‘Highness, your presence here is most unexpected, but welcome. Your kingdom, even more than that of King Tehol, has had long-term contact with those territories of Kolanse and the South Kingdoms of the Pelasiar Sea.’
    ‘That is true, Adjunct.’
    ‘What can you tell us of the situation there?’
    The queen’s brows lifted. ‘I assumed you were entirely aware of where you are headed, Adjunct. If that is not the case, then I am baffled. What manner of war do you seek? What is the cause for this belligerence of yours?’
    It seemed that Tavore was unwilling to answer. Silence stretched.
    The one who finally spoke startled them all. ‘The Worm will feed.’ Banaschar slowly lifted his head. ‘She will gorge on the slaughter to come.’ His bleary gaze wandered among them, settled on the Bolkando queen. ‘What are you worth? Any of you?’ He nodded to the Adjunct. ‘She thinks … enough. Enough worth to fight an impossible war. For you, Highness. And you, Prince Brys. And,’ he faltered for a moment, as if about to be sick, ‘even me.’
    ‘I don’t understand,’ said Abrastal, ‘but I will let the matter rest for now. To answer you, Adjunct, I must weave a tale. And,’ she added, ‘my throat grows parched.’
    Sort walked to the curtain entrance, leaned out and ordered her captains to find some ale.
    The queen snorted and then said, ‘Well, I suppose ale better suits a story told than does wine. Very well, I shall begin. They came from the sea. Isn’t that always the way? No matter. There was trouble in the lands long before that day, however. Decades of drought. Uprisings, civil wars, usurpations, a host of once wealthy nations now verging on utter collapse.
    ‘In such times, prophets are known to rise. Bold revolutions, the heads of kings and queens on spear points, blood in the streets. But against a sky empty of rain no cause triumphs, no great leader from the masses can offer salvation, and before long even their heads adorn spikes.’
    Sort arrived with a cask of ale and a dozen or so tin cups. She set about serving drinks, beginning with the queen.
    Abrastal