The escapers were caught, dragged back to camp, roughed up a little, and tied up to improvised torture posts. A big bonfire was lit. Chonjara had an extra ration broken out and shared around. Some of the soldiers produced a little wine or hard liquor which had been stored away in the bottom of their packs. A festive atmosphere prevailed.
Yen Olass and Resbit had been tied up near each other. They did not yet know whether they were going to be raped or torn to pieces or beaten to death or what.
'Whatever they do,' said Yen Olass, 'Scream loudly.’
'Yes?' said Resbit.
'Men get angry if they think they can't hurt you.’
'Don't worry, Yen Olass, I'll scream.’
Yen Olass watched some men gambling. For fun? For wine? For food? Or for the privilege of being the first to do something to her body? She heard Resbit sniff. Hot tears started out from her own eyes.
Someone was climbing out of the river.
Yen Olass blinked tears out of her eyes and tried to focus. It was only Karahaj Nan Nulador. He was carrying a sword. Chonjara had sent his bodyguard into the river to find the sword Haveros had dropped, and now Nan Nulador had succeeded. From the way he walked, Yen Olass could tell he was exhausted. The water was cold, and he had been in it a long time.
She watched the men, wondering what they would do to her first. She resolved to submit, to obey, and to give them the satisfaction of hearing her scream. Anything else would only make it harder on all of them – including Resbit.
'Hello, beautiful woman,' said a voice behind her. 264
r A man's voice.
A man's hand touched her cheek.
"Fash on-steh!' said Yen Olass, spitting out the obscenity then trying to bite the hand.
So much for her good resolutions.
The man laughed, then sliced away the strips of fibrous bark which a frugal soldier had used instead of rope to tie her to the torture post. Free, she found no strength in her hands to fight with, no strength in her feet to run with. No strength, at first, to stand with. But the man caught her and held her, then said:
'Cut my daughter free.’
A warrior moved to obey. Yen Olass saw that both his cheeks had been cut away, and this helped her remember him: she had seen him last in Favanosin.
The men of the camp now looked up from their gambling, their eating, their drinking, their jokes, their laughing, and studied the small party of strangers which had slipped out of the forest, reaching the prisoners before anyone was aware of their presence.
Silence; settled over the gathering. Then one man advanced to greet the newcomers. Yen Olass, her strength recovering now that bonds no longer restricted her circulation, released herself from the arms of the Lord Emperor Khmar and went to help Resbit. Khmar stood alone, watching the man who approached – a strange figure, his hair shaved off, his body stripped to the waist and smeared with charcoal.
The man halted, and made reverence.
'Greetings, my lord.’
'And to you, greetings, sal Pentalon Sorvolosa dan Alagrace nal Swedek quen Larsh,' said Khmar, freighting every word with sarcasm. 'How do you account for your appearance? Are the High Houses of Sharla once more setting a new trend in fashion for the empire?’
'My lord,' said Lord Alagrace, 'we've been having some… some…’
He faltered.
'Some fun, perhaps?' said Khmar, muscling forward. 'And my daughter was part of this fun? Alagrace, the Red Emperor does not take pleasure in seeing the flesh of his flesh tied to a torture post.’
'Times… times have been difficult.’
'So I understand. Chonjara! Get yourself out here! Now!’
Reluctantly, Chonjara came forward to greet his emperor.
'I left Lake Armansis with fifty men,' said Khmar. 'As you see, I'm here with ten. The green animals are formidable. Three of my survivors are wounded. Have them seen to. Put out perimeter guards. Get your men to work. Rocks and tree trunks. A wall round this place by nightfall. And you – you'll meet my justice later.
'My lord,' said Chonjara.
And Chonjara and Lord Alagrace withdrew, and began to shout orders, to make sure that the emperor's bidding was done.
'You should have them roasted alive,' said the Princess Quenerain, rubbing her wrists, where angry red marks showed where bindings had bitten into her flesh.
'And you?' said Khmar, looking at her, his eyes, glittering beneath his heavyweight brows.
'I…’
'You don't know what to say,' said Khmar. 'And neither do I.' He spat.
'Yen Olass, as Khmar's Sisterhood in the South, tell me: how should I shape my anger?’
'Their nightmares will serve your silence.' said Yen Olass.
Khmar grunted.
'Has your slave been obedient?’
For a moment, Yen Olass did not understand. Then she remembered. On the day they first met, Khmar had given her the pirate Draven as her slave.
'He has served a woman too long,' said Yen Olass.
'Then he can come west with us.' 'West?’
'We have ships at a place called Larbster. I've been with my son in the Ravlish Lands. His idea. We've been talking ports. The people there will give us ports. It will help us win Argan. Alagrace should have suggested it.’
Resbit, speaking in Galish, asked Yen Olass who the strange man was. Yen Olass tried to shush her, but it was no good.
'Who is the young one?' said Khmar. 'A woman of Estar,' said Yen Olass. 'Tell her who I am.’
Yen Olass told Resbit that the squat, ugly, bowlegged man with the filed teeth was the Lord Emperor Khmar, absolute ruler of Tameran.
'Does he want me?' said Resbit timidly.
'What does she say?' said Khmar.’
'She wants to know if…"
'If I want her? Yen Olass, I want to rest.’
Yen Olass was alarmed to hear Khmar speak like this. He had come out of the forest to save her, like the prince in a hero-song, but ever since then his behaviour had left a lot to desire. He should have lashed Lord Alagrace with his scathing tongue until his victim was grovelling belly-down in the dust, begging for mercy. He should have eaten Chonjara alive. He should have lopped off heads and flayed men alive. His fury should be so intsense that he should still be breathing fire. Instead…
She saw he was tired. Profoundly tired. He could imitate the strength and the anger of the man he had once been, but the truth was that his life was failing. He was too sick to be marching through the wilderness, battling with the Melski and disciplining unruly commanders.
Yen Olass organized Khmar into the tent Lord Alagrace had brought up from Lake Armansis. She had boughs cut to make a bed, and had blankets confiscated so the emperor could sleep warm. Soon Khmar was slumbering, with his daughter Quenerain keeping watch at his side, and his bodyuards taking turns to rest and stand guard, talking to each other quietly in Eparget.
Yen Olass talked to the man who had suffered the loss of his cheeks. He told her about their journey to the Ravlish Lands, then about how they had stopped at Larbster Bay, and what they had found there, prompting Khmar to march inland. He told her about their arrival at Lake Armansis, and the fearful discipline Khmar had meted out to the soldiers he found there in arms against each other. She heard of the march north, and how they had captured the pirate Mellicks, learning much by interrogating him.
'What happened to him?' said Yen Olass.
'Khmar sent him south.’
'He was lucky to be left alive.’
'He had offered Khmar life. He said there was a machine here in the north which grants wishes.’
For 'machine' he used the formula 'steel-which-lives', speaking of this ancient evil with distaste tinged with fear.
'Khmar believed him?' said Yen Olass.
'He had yellow eyes. He said he got them by wishing. Khmar chose to believe him.’
'What he said is both true and false,' said Yen Olass. 'There is a machine. It can grant wishes. But lately, it's taken to killing. I don't suppose he told Khmar that.’
'Oh, but he did’
'And Khmar?’
'He chooses to seek out the machine regardless. Our emperor
'He's dying,' said Yen Olass, speaking the truth even though it might be treason to do so.
'Well,' said the man without cheeks, 'let's just say, even Khmar is not immortal.’
'But he's not dead yet,' said a voice.
And, turning, they saw Khmar watching them from his bed of blankets and branches. Yen Olass wondered how loug he had been listening for. The Princess Quenerain whispered something to her father.
'No,' said Khmar. 'Let her stay. Now get me Alagrace and Chonjara.’
That evening, there was a funeral for Volaine Persaga Haveros. As the flames caught hold of the funeral pyre, Lord Alagrace and General Chonjara each cut off one of their ears and threw these offerings onto the blaze. Since Haveros had been killed in a fair fight, Khmar saw no reason to punish anyone for his death; instead, he was disciplining Alagrace and Chonjara for the way they had failed him as army commanders.
Both Khmar's victims were amazed to find that the Lord Emperor was going to let them escape with the loss of an ear apiece. They had expected, at the least, to have their feet burnt off and then to be buried alive.
That night, Khmar dismissed everyone from his tent. Everyone but Yen Olass Ampadara. In the morning, Resbit asked Yen Olass what had happened.
'We shared an apple,' said Yen Olass. 'And he gave me one all for myself. But I saved it for you.’
And she gave Resbit the extra apple.
'Will you be empress?' said Resbit.
'That,' said Yen Olass, 'remains to be seen.’
She worried about what would happen when Khmar reached the wishing machine in the north. Surely it would kill him. Or keep him. She was glad when he decided to stay and rest for another day.
They shared another apple that night, but she knew his strength was failing. He said he lacked the appetite for another march: should he have himself carried? She told him to rest. To wrestle with the wishing machine, one had to be strong, aggressive and fighting fit. If he was not ready to fight, then…
'Then here is where I dismount,' said Khmar. 'I never thought to live forever. I have had a good life.’
They talked together, their voices murmuring late into the night. He told her of his first wife, who died in childbirth, and of his second wife, who eloped with the fair-haired stranger from across the seas, and of his third wife, who met the fate which must not be told to strangers.
The next night, they shared one last apple.
'You will bear a son for me,' said Khmar. 'He will be emperor. A real man and a real emperor. Not like Celadric’
'You have other sons already,' said Yen Olass.
'Chonjara will stand between you and them until rny son is old enough to stand at the head of his own army,' said Khmar. 'Tomorrow, I will instruct him.’
But his voice was grey in the dark. There was no fire left, only ashes. When he slept, Yen Olass called his bodyguards into the tent, and they kept the final watch together, so that there would be witnesses to the death.
Khmar died that night, and Yen Olass said a parting for him. The bodyguards gave her permission to stay or go, as she chose. She chose to leave. The most powerful man left in the camp was Chonjara, her enemy, the one whom she had defeated in combat in front of the army at Lorford, and who had almost succeeded in having her stoned to death as a dralkosh. If Khmar had lived long enough to instruct Chonjara to protect her, he might have obeyed. But as things were, it was best for her to flee.
Under cover of darkness, she roused Resbit. Draven, Lord Alagrace and Jalamex were sleeping in the same lean-to, so they woke as well. Yen Olass explained. Shortly, they were on their way upstream, with sufficient stolen packs, food, clothing, weapons and blankets to guarantee them a good chance of survival in the wilderness.
Yen Olass felt no guilt whatsoever at leaving the Princess Quenerain behind. When Yen Olass had stopped playing at being Yarglat of the Yarglat, and had met Lord Alagrace on the road to Favanosin, the Princess Quenerain had been all for having her put to death immediately – and Yen Olass found it very hard to forgive people who had tried to have her killed.