Shadows Return Part 40

ALEC HAD NO idea what the date was, but the wind grew sharper every day and smelled of winter. At night the ground under their feet sparkled with frost. idea what the date was, but the wind grew sharper every day and smelled of winter. At night the ground under their feet sparkled with frost.

With careful rationing, and a bit of luck he had hunting, they managed to make Tiel's food last two nights, but the cold was rapidly becoming more of a danger. When they had to rest there was nothing to do but huddle even closer together than before, trying to keep the heat in each other's bodies.

Three days out from the goatherd's cottage not only were they still not in sight of the ocean, but it began to rain. By dawn it was coming down so hard that he and Seregil gave up on keeping watch and joined Ilar in the scant shelter of a ruined cottage they'd come across.

"At least water won't be a problem today," Seregil joked through chattering teeth.

When they moved on that night, they were still hungry and filthy, but little rills flowed in the formerly dry gullies, enough to keep the water skin filled.

Since healing the girl, Sebrahn had returned to his usual silent, pa.s.sive state, showing no interest in diverging from each night's chosen march. Hungry most of the time himself, Alec fed him several times a day, and the rhekaro seemed content with the extra feedings. He nestled close to Alec when he slept, but he always did that, anyway.

Looking into those pale eyes as he washed Sebrahn's face or cut his hair, however, Alec was convinced that he saw more intelligence there each day. The way the rhekaro sensed the sick girl and insisted on finding her was proof enough of that. And Seregil had begun to soften towards him, too, much to Alec's relief.

The only signs of habitation they saw over the next two nights were a few herders' huts. They stopped just long enough to take what little food they could steal, careful not to show themselves to the householders.

The subject of getting rid of either Ilar or Sebrahn had died somewhere along the road. Seregil had to admit that he'd had the easier choice. At first he'd made an effort to refer to the rhekaro as "him" and "Sebrahn" for Alec's sake. Since that night at the goatherd's cottage, he couldn't help but begin to think of him as a real being. Silent and strange as he was, Sebrahn had somehow known of the girl's distress and acted to help her. The sight of him drinking Alec's blood, and the touch of his cold little fingers were still a little unnerving, though.

Alec and Ilar also seemed to have established a truce of sorts, enough at least they could sleep next to each other without a fight, but that was about as far as it went. Seregil had never seen Alec hold a grudge like this; he'd always been the more forgiving one, and it made Seregil wonder if there was something Alec hadn't told him about his time with Ilar in the alchemist's house.

Less clear were Seregil's feelings toward Ilar. He still had every reason to hate the man, and years of a bitterly nursed grudge on top of that, yet whenever he looked at Ilar, all he could see were the scars and the beaten look in his eyes. This wasn't the man he remembered.

Days ago, when they'd first had to huddle together while Alec was on watch, Ilar had been quiet and nervous. But as the days went on, he began to talk of Aurenen and the past, like he had when Seregil had been playing the dutiful slave. Now he asked for news of people he remembered, and recalled friends they'd shared. Grudgingly at first, Seregil found himself having real conversations with Ilar. If it had been anyone but Ilar, it would have been rather pleasant. The fact that Alec had nothing good to say to the man during their marches, but could sleep next to him in the daylight, made Seregil wonder if he was softening toward Ilar, too. When he tried to broach the subject in a rare moment of privacy, however, Alec just stared at him.

"I use him for warmth, like a campfire. Nothing else." He gave Seregil an oddly appraising look. "What about you?"

"The same," Seregil replied, but in the back of his mind, a little doubt niggled. Alec saw through him in an instant. "I can't explain it, tali. I don't want him. I don't like like him! I just can't seem to hate him anymore. As soon as we get away from Plenimar we'll send him on his way, I promise." him! I just can't seem to hate him anymore. As soon as we get away from Plenimar we'll send him on his way, I promise."

"Just like that?"

"Yes. Just like that."

Alec let it drop, but only after giving Seregil a skeptical look that cut him to the heart.

By the time the first hint of dawn showed that morning, Alec could tell by the scent on the breeze that they were finally nearing the ocean. He waited until the sky brightened along the horizon, then pointed off to the southwest. "There it is. The Strait!"

Between the still-dark land and the golden lip of the horizon, a dark strip of ocean curved into the hazy distance. Beyond that, out of sight, lay Aurenen, and safety.

"I don't believe it!" whispered Ilar. "We might actually make it."

Seregil gave him a crooked grin. "Two nights. Three at most. I hope you have a good stomach for sailing, my friend."

Friend? Alec's own grin died-not for all the days Ilar had slept beside Seregil, or for his betrayal of Alec in Yhakobin's house. No, it was the way Seregil had called Ilar "friend." It sounded almost like he meant it. Alec's own grin died-not for all the days Ilar had slept beside Seregil, or for his betrayal of Alec in Yhakobin's house. No, it was the way Seregil had called Ilar "friend." It sounded almost like he meant it.

"Come on!" Seregil urged, not noticing.

They came across a rutted dirt track leading south and gave it a wide berth. They skirted a small hamlet, too, and finally took refuge in a lonely copse of trees next to a stream. It was less than ideal, but the sun was up and they couldn't risk being caught out in the open.

There was plenty of dry wood lying around, and after some consultation, he and Seregil decided to risk a small fire. The three of them breakfasted on boiled water and a few slices of raw turnip. It wasn't very filling but the heat felt good in their bellies. They kept the rest of their scant provisions-a few more turnips, two wizened apples, and some cooked meat from the skinny coney Alec had killed two days earlier-in the rag sack, hoping to eke them out one more day.

He and Seregil took turns on watch through the day. It was a sheltered spot and the sun had come out at last, so Ilar was left to sleep by himself again.

Seregil was on watch late that afternoon, burning wood ticks from his arms and legs with the hot tip of a stick, when Ilar woke and scratched glumly at his own dirty clothing and hair. Moving carefully past Alec, who was still asleep with Sebrahn, he walked over to Seregil and whispered, "You'll have to show me how to do that. I itch all over. I have to p.i.s.s, too. May I have some privacy?"

Ilar always went off by himself, and in the dark, too, to attend to bodily functions. Seregil was about to object, then thought of the gelding scars Ilar had shown him. "Go on, but stay inside the trees."

Ilar stepped behind a large trunk and a moment later Seregil caught sight of a bare, bent knee sticking out from behind it.

Of course, he has to squat. He looked away, more affected by the sight than he thought possible. He remembered that body the way it had been, strong and whole and pressed close to his... He looked away, more affected by the sight than he thought possible. He remembered that body the way it had been, strong and whole and pressed close to his...

Seregil threw his stick into the fire and went to make a circuit of their little hiding place, looking for any signs of life and trying not to think about the man.

Ilar, however, followed him. "I'm hungry."

"We'll eat when Alec wakes up. Have all the water you want. The stream is good."

Ilar drank deeply and capped the skin. Then he turned and looked back to where Alec lay asleep on the ground. "So that's what you can love, eh? Can't say I blame you. He has a kind heart."

"Not for those who betray him," Seregil retorted softly.

"I'm sorry about that. What choice do you think I had? Ilban ordered it and I had to obey."

"Stop calling him that! You're free now. Aurenfaie don't have masters."

Ilar's soft laugh was bitter. "Can either of us call himself that anymore?"

"That's the blood that runs in our veins, no matter what anyone says, or does to us."

"I see. Well, I'll try to take your advice, until someone sees me naked. I'll be quite the darling of the baths, won't I?"

"Self-pity is not a very productive emotion, you know. Or an attractive one."

"Forgive me, Ilban," Ilar returned with heavy sarcasm.

Seregil bit back a snide remark, not wanting to wake Alec. Even asleep, the younger man had dark rings of exhaustion under his eyes. He lay curled on his side with his head on the bundle, with Sebrahn nestled against his chest as always.

"I wanted to die when I was first exiled, but I was too young and scared to carry through," Seregil admitted softly. "But after that pa.s.sed, even with all the shame-Despite what you may think, going to Idrilain's court in disgrace wasn't pleasant. Everyone knew why I was there, and what I'd done. But a wise friend told me that if you act like a whipped dog, that's how people treat you, and that I'd better learn to hold my head up if I wanted anyone's respect ever again."

"That's easily said." Ilar turned away and stared out at the sinking sun. "I'm so dirty." Seregil thought he was talking of his spirit before he added, "The sound of that stream is driving me mad. Please, can I go and wash?"

Seregil hesitated, tempted by the idea himself. They hadn't seen or heard anyone all day, and just down the hill from where they sat, the stream curved in among the trees. The sun was nearly down and stars were already showing through the branches overhead. "All right. We'll keep watch for each other."

Seregil went first. Leaving his sword within easy reach, he stripped off his coat and squatted on the muddy bank, trying to wash away the sweat and stink. He glanced down at his right arm where the brand had been, glad not to go the rest of his life with that kind of reminder in plain sight. Bad enough that he'd let himself and Alec be taken like that; he felt most guilty at how long it had taken him to get loose again.

Long enough for that thing thing to be made. And he loves it, too, as if it really were his child. to be made. And he loves it, too, as if it really were his child. Seregil bent to rinse his hair in the current, thinking again of the oracle's prophecy. If this wasn't the fulfillment of it, then it was d.a.m.n close. Seregil bent to rinse his hair in the current, thinking again of the oracle's prophecy. If this wasn't the fulfillment of it, then it was d.a.m.n close.

The cold water felt wonderful against his sweaty scalp. He stayed there a moment, then sat up and shook his head like a dog, scattering droplets in all directions.

"Now I'm wet, too."

Seregil looked back over his shoulder and was startled to see Ilar standing close beside him. He is a 'faie, after all, He is a 'faie, after all, he thought, but still disliked having the man creep up on him like that. he thought, but still disliked having the man creep up on him like that.

Ilar wiped his face on his sleeve, leaving a streak of wet dust on his cheek. "That much less I need to wash, eh, Haba?"

"Don't call me that," Seregil snapped, more out of habit than any real anger.

"I'm sorry. I've always thought of you that way."

"Well, don't," Seregil growled, going back to his washing.

"I wish Alec could forgive me. I really do like him, you know. It wasn't easy, lying to him like that, but I had no choice."

"So you keep saying." Seregil snorted as he washed his face.

A light touch on his shoulder startled him. He slapped Ilar's hand away and stood up, water running down his chest to soak the front of his trousers. "d.a.m.n you! What do you want from me?"

Ilar stepped closer. "Your forgiveness, Seregil. I don't understand. You saved my life, but you still treat me like a plague rat. Why didn't you kill me or leave me when you had the chance?"

"I've been asking myself that a lot."

Ilar smoothed a hand down the front of his dirty robe. "You didn't know, did you, what had really become of me? You thought I was wandering around free, just like you."

And there it was again, thought Seregil, that little fish hook tug in his heart. Ilar held his gaze as he undid the ties at the neck of his robe and pulled it off over his head, baring his devastated body-the scars, the stripes, and the terrible emptiness between his legs.

When Ilar reached for his shoulder this time, Seregil just stood there, looking into those sad hazel eyes, and seeing the depth of pain there.

"Haba," Ilar whispered, leaning closer. "Can't we call the tally even? We ruined each other's lives, and now we've saved them. Without me, how would you have gotten them both away?"

"I'd have managed!" But Seregil couldn't help wondering how. Ilar's hand slid to the back of his neck and he could not for the life of him understand why he was allowing it. Ilar suddenly bent closer, bringing his lips close enough for Seregil to taste the man's breath.

Seregil jerked back. "What the h.e.l.l-?"

Before they could discuss the matter, Alec burst from the trees and flung himself at Ilar, tumbling them both into the stream with a mighty splash.

Seregil stood dumbstruck, watching them flailing at each other with knees and fists. He almost kissed me. I almost He almost kissed me. I almost let let him! him!

Alec quickly got the upper hand and was holding Ilar's head under the water. Seregil waded in and dragged him off, pulling him to his feet. They were both soaked now.

Alec whipped around and punched Seregil squarely in the jaw, knocking him on his a.s.s in the shallows. He was livid.

"Is that how it is?" he shouted, fists balled, body tensed for attack. "Is that why you dragged him along?"

Seregil stared up at him. The whole side of his face throbbed and his mouth was full of blood. "Of course not!"

"I saw you! Him-naked. Kissing you!"

"He did not!" The accusation stung, and pain was giving way to anger. "And what about you? I saw you in the garden with him, more than once! He held you."

"I told you, he tried to seduce me, but I I didn't let him!" didn't let him!"

"Neither did I!"

"Oh, so he was just getting something out of your eye for you?"

"For f.u.c.k's sake, Alec!" He looked over at Ilar, who was still sitting in the water where he'd fallen. Water streamed down his face, and blood, too. Ilar was beaten, miserable, helpless. Pitiable.

Seregil staggered to his feet. "Hit me again. Harder."

"What?"

"Please, tali. Once more."

Alec gave him another doubtful look, and then slapped him, hard.

Ilar staggered up, looking at them like they'd both gone mad, then edged around them to grab up his discarded robe. "I didn't mean any harm, Alec," he mumbled, trembling.

"The h.e.l.l you didn't! You've been trying to cozy up to him from the start." He turned accusing eyes on Seregil. "Did you let him?"

Alec might just as well have hit him again. Seregil yanked on his discarded coat and stalked back up the hill to their camp, not trusting himself to answer. He wasn't sure whom he was most angry with.

Probably himself.

Alec leveled the point of his sword at Ilar's throat. "First me at the house, and now this? Leave him alone, d.a.m.n you!"

"Please don't! You promised," Ilar begged, as his legs gave out under him.

"Don't tempt me." Disgusted, Alec sheathed his sword. "You put a slave collar on him, but he saved you anyway. Why are you making trouble now?"

Ilar hugged his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth a little. Eyes downcast, he whispered, "I wasn't always like this. All these years of being one master's possession after another...I can't expect you to understand, or him. I was just 'Khenir' for so long."

"Yhakobin didn't give you that name?"

"Of course not. When the slavers asked me what my name was, I just said the first one that came into my head, so as not to shame my clan any more than I already had."

As much as he hated to admit it, Alec suspected Ilar was telling him at least a partial truth. "How did you become a slave in the first place?"

"When I failed, all those years ago, Ulan i Sathil had to make certain that the truth of his role in all that never came out. So he had me caught and sold."