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‘Oh, bless me, Hanako,’ Lasa sighed, ‘do reach out a pawing hand at the very least? Here, I yield you these lobes, my oft-plucked fruit, so well handled and tender, whose very nipples cry out with the memory of tweaks and twists. They have the taste of honey, I’m told, and the scent of flowers.’
‘I’ve seen you dab them every morning,’ Hanako said.
‘A secret revealed! And yet you still speak of marriage? Hanako, this journey of ours is almost as bad, with all the shattered privacy of making toilet and other things. Imagine this intimacy, young sir, with no end in sight! Shall I pluck importunate hairs from alarming locales upon your person, while you squeeze blackheads upon mine? Shall we take turns wiping the drool from our chins with every dawn, for years on end? Tell me, what other details of marriage can I offer you, to disavow all your notions of romantic bliss?’
‘Please, Lasa. My thoughts are for Erelan Kreed. He does not improve. There was madness in that dragon’s blood.’
‘It’s said that there are celibate monks among the south-dwellers. Pray rush to their cold company, Hanako.’
‘Lasa Rook, I beg you, we must discuss what to do with our friend here!’
‘We bring him down to the Jaghut, of course. And whatever Azathanai might be lounging about. They can examine our blathering warrior here, and decide if he is fit to live or die. This matter, you must see, Hanako, lies beyond us. Now, where was I? Ah, these protrudinous fruit, so swollen and inviting—’
With a low growl, Hanako rose to his feet. He stepped away from the fire, moving past Lasa, and made his way down to the pebbled shoreline.
The stars were strewn upon the still surface of the lake. Cool air rose from the water, lifting to Hanako the faintly pungent smell of decay where detritus made a cluttered rim of the shoreline. He walked along that verge, his steps slow. Rock and water … the world had a way of making borderlands the repository of the discarded, as if in the collision of smaller worlds things did not merge, only break.
The Thel Akai, such lovers of tales from distant lands, were nonetheless a people content with their own isolation. There were things to protect, after all, and pre-eminent among them a host of precious but flimsy beliefs. There was little defence, however, against the invasion of ideas, beyond whatever strength was offered by collective prejudices. And even among an isolated people such as the Thel Akai, factions arose, jostling for dominance, always eager to impose distinctions.
The only weapon of any worth against such idiocy was laughter, and it cut sharper and deeper than any blade.
A war upon death. That was worth a bold guffaw. Now watch us laugh all the way to the feet of the Lord of Rock-Piles himself. Some ideas will turn the blade, wounding the wielder with unexpected suddenness.
He turned at the sound of splashing from the lake, caught the glimmer of churning water as a figure clambered into view. Hanako saw a flash of tusks, and then heard muttered cursing as the stranger struggled with a bulky, sodden pack. He dragged it ashore, and then straightened, turning to face Hanako. ‘Is this the crude self-obsession of youth, Thel Akai, or has mercy simply died along with everything else?’
Hanako stepped forward, in time for the Jaghut to thrust the heavy sack into his hands.
‘It’s time to give thanks to that fire of yours,’ the Jaghut said, stepping past. ‘A beacon, a promising pyre, a rack to dry flesh and bone. It was all these things, and more.’
Hanako grunted under the weight of the sack, which was still draining water. He hurried to catch up to the Jaghut. ‘But – where did you come from?’
‘A boat, Thel Akai. By this means, one can journey across lakes. Unless,’ he added, ‘the boat changes its mind, and longs instead to explore the bottom.’
As they drew nearer the fire, Lasa Rook’s voice drifted out to them. ‘Another wastrel, Hanako? But not the grunts and growls of a bear, nor the hiss of a dragon. Why, this venture offers everything but the sweaty squeeze beneath the furs. Tell me, oh please, the tale of a shipwrecked prince flung so callously upon my lap, as it were …’
She was standing, awaiting them, and her words trailed away when the Jaghut stepped into the light, already stripping off his soaked clothing.
‘Unless you’re in the habit of devouring small children with your sweet trap, woman, best look back upon your companion, if satisfaction is what you seek.’
Lasa Rook snorted, and then moved to sit once more. ‘Wastrels indeed. Do charge these flames, Hanako, and with luck, such heat will dry our guest to a frail wisp, lifting him high into the night and gone.’
Now naked, the Jaghut moved closer to the hearth and began laying out his clothes. ‘Thel Akai,’ he said, making the words sound like a mild irritation, ‘you’ve been tumbling down out of the mountains for weeks now. All through the nights, as I communed with the walls of my cave, and paced the rough floor in search of quietude, I have been subjected to echoing braying I assumed to be laughter.’ Finished with his clothing, he moved closer to the flames and held out his hands to the heat. ‘But let it not be said that a Jaghut worth his salt would call but one cave his refuge. I set out, then, seeking a more remote cache.’
‘His boat sank,’ Hanako explained.
Lasa Rook lifted a bright gaze to him. ‘At last, brevity! Heed well this deplorable youth, Jaghut, and consider – in your own time, to be sure – the value of being succinct. After all, we do not all live for ages untold, inviting such preambles as to witness the greying of hair and bending of bones.’
After a moment, the Jaghut rose and retrieved the pack that Hanako had dragged into the firelight. He pulled free the straps and drew out a bundled chain surcoat, followed by a helm, a belt and twin scabbarded shortswords.
Hanako stared. ‘You swam carrying all that? I think even I could not manage such a thing, sir.’
‘When swimming fails, one walks.’
‘Listen to him, Hanako. Before this night is done, he will tell you of the stars he gathered from the sky.’ She rose. ‘I’m for sleep, yielding to you snores rather than moans. But do lean an ear to this pallid Jaghut, and partake in his dirge of exhausted wisdom. No finer music could more quickly put me to sleep.’
Hanako moved to check on Erelan Kreed, but the warrior remained unconscious, his brow hot with fever. Troubled, Hanako returned to sit opposite the Jaghut.
‘What ails your friend?’
