Pilgrim. Sara Douglass

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       17 The Donkeys’ Tantrum

      Leagh walked slowly among the trees, smiling at the groups of soldiers she passed. Sometimes she found it difficult to believe over thirty thousand were sheltered in these Woods. Separated by the trees into small groups, the entire army seemed to merge into the gloom.

      She stopped by one lieutenant. “Jaspar, has the Prince Askam passed this way?”

      “Through there, my lady.” Jaspar, one of Askam’s command, was not quite sure what to call Leagh. Princess or Queen? What did his allegiance dictate? And who did he owe his allegiance to? Askam … or Zared?

      Leagh almost walked off in the direction Jaspar indicated, then paused. “Jaspar, the Prince Drago —” why was it that no-one had thought to accord him his proper title, either? “— has just said something that I think is very pertinent. Tencendor can no longer let petty rivalries and bigotries continue to tear it asunder. If nothing else, Jaspar, give Zared your loyalty because Caelum has asked it of you.”

      Jaspar nodded unhappily, and Leagh sighed, and turned away.

      She found Askam standing among the horse lines, stroking the neck of his bay stallion.

      “Askam?” Leagh walked up and smiled, giving the horse a pat herself. “I think the horses appreciate the gentle rest they find among these trees.”

      He didn’t answer her, refusing to even meet her eyes.

      “Askam …” Leagh’s voice almost broke, and she had to clear her throat. “Askam, we are tied by blood so close that nothing should come between us. Please —”

      He turned to stare at her. “Zared has come between us, sister. You gave him the West when you decided to run away with him and marry him against all wishes. You, only you, denuded me of my heritage.”

      Leagh dropped her eyes, burying her fingers in the glossy coat of the horse in an effort to find strength. “I apologise with every beat of my heart for that deception. But Askam …” She raised her eyes, and now they were bright with tears. “Askam, it was what our people wanted, too. Can’t you understand that? Carlon rang with joy when Zared rode in —”

      “He must have paid them to —”

      “Oh, damn you to everlasting torment in the Bogle Marshes, Askam! No-one can pay for unfeigned joy! It is freely given, not purchased! I struggled for weeks myself, not knowing what to do, thinking that I had betrayed you for love of Zared —”

      “You had!”

      “— but what he did was not through blind ambition, Askam, but for the people of the Acharite —”

      “You are blind, Leagh, to so argue. Gods! The man took you because through you he could gain control of the West. Of Achar. And now? Now he has virtual control of Tencendor while Caelum meditates in Star Finger!”

      Askam was shouting now, his hazel eyes furious, his cheeks flushed. “No! What am I saying? That eternal traitor Drago has control of Tencendor. Leagh, I cannot believe what I witnessed there! Everyone from erstwhile Enchanters to the be-twigged Isfrael himself rolled over to let him scratch their bellies. What are they going to do next? Learn to crouch before him and beg for morsels from his plate? What about Caelum for the gods’ sakes? He is the one to whom they owe their ultimate loyalty.”

      Leagh tried one last time. “If there is one thing I have learned over the past months, Askam, it is that people will willingly tear out their hearts for a man who will do rather than expect.”

      “I expected loyalty,” Askam said flatly, “and I received nothing but treachery. Even from my sister, who I should have been able to trust more than anyone else. But you? You prostituted yourself for a crown.”

      Leagh flinched. She tried to think of something to say, then finally turned her back and walked away.

      Askam watched her disappear among the trees, then stood by his horse thinking for a long time. Eventually he retraced his steps until he found Jaspar, and the sergeant-at-arms now standing with him.

      “My friends,” he said, “I need to have a word with you. It seems we find ourselves among a nest of traitors. If you care for your wife and children, waiting, vulnerable in Carlon, then you will listen well to what I have to say.”

      Drago and Faraday did not linger. They told Zared they needed to move north as soon as they could.

      “Deal with whatever you find as best you can, Zared,” Drago said.

      “And this Sanctuary?”

      “I will send word as soon as I can.”

      “Do not delay it, Drago.”

      “Be prepared, Zared.”

      Zared sighed. “Do you need supplies?”

      Drago nodded. “I would appreciate it. Who knows what we will be able to scavenge from the plains?”

      “Why not stay within the forest for a while?”

      “We need to move fast, Zared.”

      As do you. The words hung between them, and Zared stared at Drago a moment before moving off.

      Drago smoothed his hair with both hands, wishing he had the time and opportunity to bathe and shave. Gods! How many days since he’d been able to shave? He ran a hand over the stubble on his chin, and grimaced. Enchanted forests were all very well, but Drago truly thought he would gladly bargain one of Faraday’s donkeys for an hour in a marbled and steamy bathroom.

      As if in direct response to his thought, there was an indignant bray to one side, and Drago turned to look.

      Faraday had gone to harness the donkeys to the blue cart — but with obvious lack of success.

      Leather harness lay strewn about the clearing, and the cart itself had somehow lost a wheel and was leaning drunkenly to one side. As Drago watched, it creaked, trembled, and then fell apart completely.

      Faraday jumped back, tripped over one of the harness collars lying on the ground, and fell over.

      Drago walked over and helped her to her feet. “What’s going on?”

      “I … I don’t know!” Faraday raised both hands, then let them fall helplessly to her sides again.

      The donkeys had retreated several paces, and were now СКАЧАТЬ