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sentinels torches. It looked terrifying and enormous. Kei had the sickening
feeling he was entering hell and would never leave again. From the emotions
of his comrades, they felt the same. It didn t exactly encourage him.
Ignorant or unmoved by their apprehension, their escort moved them inside
the high wooden walls. Kei could only catch an impression of the actual size
of the structure, and of the numbers of soldiers within it. They were taken to
see what he now knew to be a sergeant. Their names were recorded, and
then their condition was assessed by the army medic, who was mainly
interested in whether any of them were sick with communicable diseases.
Kei s box of supplies was handed over, explained and then sealed in his
presence. The medic told him, in perfectly wretched Darshianese, that if Kei
needed the things, he had only to ask, but the medic would have to supervise
any dangerous procedure, to which condition Kei agreed in words, but with no
intention of obeying in spirit. He d determined Prijian medicine was as
hidebound and riddled with myth as their religion, and he was damned if he
would let a Prijian doctor interfere with proper treatment of his people.
The sergeant told them they would be able to wash themselves and their
belongings tomorrow. For now they were taken to a large barracks where the
other hostages were being held, and left there, the door being locked behind
them.
The room was dim, lit by a few oil lamps, and in the corner, the faint red
glow of a stove. They seemed to have been expected, since all the waiting
hostages were standing as they came in. A man stepped forward. Welcome,
Ai-Albon. I m Gonji of Ai-Rutej.
Kei let his hand be shaken warmly. I m Kei. He quickly introduced the
others from his village. Gonji, we re hungry and sore. Can we rest? We can
give you what news we have.
Of course, there s only the pallets but it s better than the ground. We ve got
food waiting for you.
The pallets, which turned out to be stuffed with straw, were the softest
things Kei had sat on in a month, and his clansmen groaned in relief as weary
bodies were eased down. The other hostages took their oilskins away to dry,
helped them stow packs, told them where they could relieve themselves (in
latrines in an adjoining building), and brought them bowls of hot, tasty stew in
wooden bowls, apparently carved from the same trees which had been cut
down to make the fort.
As they ate, their hunger making them greedy, Gonji introduced the other
Darshianese. The last person he brought forward was Jena, the Ai-Rutej
mind-speaker, also their healer. Through her, the hostages in the fort had
been kept fully apprised of the events in the north. She confirmed that Ai-
Kislik had fallen, as they had expected, and that an enormous fortification was
under construction just to the north of the village.
However, I have better news, she said with a smile, and behind her, Gonji
also smiled. They had clearly been looking forward to imparting this. Every
single person sent away to Darshek has arrived safely. Everyone from Ai-
Albon is safe. They arrived three weeks ago. They re well and being cared
for.
Kei s grip on his empty bowl tightened as he clutched at his chest with his
free hand. He was suddenly overwhelmed with such a barrage of happiness
and relief that he couldn t think at all. It wasn t all his own, he knew, but in his
weariness, and with so many people suddenly so close after weeks on the
march, he had nothing left to use to protect himself.
He struggled to stay upright, and might have managed to force the
dizziness down if Urki had not, right at that moment, flung her arms around
him. Oh gods, Kei! Pito is safe!
No, Urki, don t.... he protested but it was too late. Her physical touch was
the last straw, and his vision faded, the waves of emotions dimming suddenly,
and then...nothing.
His head pounded, dark red flowers blooming behind his eyelids in time
with his heartbeat. He felt sick, nauseated to his core. He curled up and
wished the pain in his head would stop.
Something cool was placed on his face, and a very gentle touch on his face
failed to bring a renewal of the emotional input. Kei. The voice was in his
head, rather than in his ears. It was very soft, calming. It s all right, Kei. It s
Jena. The soothing hand stroked his face again, and it seemed to lessen the
pain, a little. I m sorry, I didn t realise you were a soul-toucher, or I d have
been more careful how I told you that news.
He fumbled a hand up to touch hers. S all right, he mumbled, and winced
as the sound of his own voice rang unpleasantly in his ears.
Speak this way, Kei, it won t hurt you so much. We have some pijn....
No, keep it for something serious. We don t have any way of replacing it.
Very wise. You must be Erte s son. I was sorry to hear of her death.
He risked opening an eye to squint at her, but she was just a dark blurry
haze backlit by an oil lamp, so he closed his eye again. It wasn t worth the
pain it caused. You knew her?
I knew of her. Your mother was well-respected among healers, as was your
father for his discoveries. A great loss. There was nothing he could say to
such an obvious statement, so he didn t respond. Her hand seemed to be
leeching the pain away, although he suspected it was something she was
actually doing with her mind. Were you not taught better control than this at
the academy?
It s only a minor gift, Jena.
Not so minor, that I can see. Her voice held a note of dry reproach. It s
also one strengthened and affected by many things, such as the profession of
the person with the gift, and their emotional state and those around you.
You ve been careless, Kei. You, a healer, are at most risk if you do not protect
yourself, and that is even without the grief you have suffered with your
parents deaths and this most recent event. You must have been taught some
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