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‘Why do you linger in Kharkanas, Azathanai?’
‘Truth, Silchas Ruin?’
‘Truth.’
Grizzin closed his eyes briefly, as if mustering thoughts. He was silent for another moment, and then, eyes opening and fixing upon Silchas Ruin, he sighed and said, ‘I hold trapped in place those who would come to this contest. I push away, by my presence alone, the wolves among my kin, who would sink fangs into this panting flesh, if only to savour the sweat and blood and fear.’ The Azathanai watched his companion studying him, and then nodded. ‘I hold the gates, friend, and in drunken obstinacy I foul the lock like a bent key.’
Finally, Silchas Ruin looked away, squinting into the gloom. ‘The city has gone deathly quiet. Look at these others, cowed by all that is as yet unknown, and indeed unknowable.’
‘The future is a woman,’ said Grizzin Farl, ‘deserving a second, or third, glance.’
‘Beauty awaits such contemplation?’
‘In a manner of speaking.’
‘And when we find it?’
‘Why, she leaves you, of course.’
‘You are not as drunk as you seem, Azathanai.’
‘I never am, Silchas. But then, who can see the future?’
‘You, it appears. Or is this all a matter of faith?’
‘A faith that entrances,’ Grizzin Farl replied, looking down at his empty tankard.
‘I have a thought,’ Silchas Ruin said, ‘that what you protect is that future.’
‘I am my woman’s favourite eunuch, friend. While I am no poet, I pray she is content with the love she sees in my eyes. Utterly devoid of song is hapless Grizzin Farl, and this music you hear? It is no more than my purr beneath her pity.’ He gestured with the empty tankard. ‘Men such as I will take what we can get.’
‘You have talked yourself out of a night with that serving woman you so admired.’
‘You think so?’
‘I do,’ said Silchas. ‘Your last request for more ale surely obliterated this evening’s worth of flirtation.’
‘Oh dear. I must make amends.’
‘If not the common subjects of Mother Dark, there are always her priestesses.’
‘And wiggle the bent key? I think not.’
After a moment, Silchas Ruin frowned and leaned forward. ‘One of these barred gates is hers?’
Grizzin Farl raised a finger to his lips. ‘Tell no one,’ he whispered. ‘They’ve not yet tried the door, of course.’
‘I don’t believe you.’
‘My flavour hides in the darkness, whispering the disinclination.’
‘Do you think this white skin announces my disloyalty, Azathanai?’
‘Does it not?’
‘No!’
Grizzin Farl scratched at his bearded jaw as he contemplated the young nobleborn. ‘Well, curse my miscalculation. Will you dislodge me now? I am as weighty as stone, as obstinate as a pillar beneath a roof.’
