***
The Sivor was gloomy and unwelcoming, filled with tangled vines and toppled trees, a stifling mausoleum to timeless, rotting, fallen giants. The velvety quiet instantly swallowed up Hew, Cal, and Roland’s fifty men, dampening sounds and spirits alike. There were no paths, no birds, and no sunlight, even though it was full day in the world outside. The darkness matched Cal’s disposition, and a certain foreboding in his heart as they struggled through the matted, primeval undergrowth.
Hew was right. It had been a terrible day, at Nar Taigar, one that he only remembered from a hazy distance. He had tried to convince himself that he had taken the only possible course of action: if he had to, he would set the world on fire to smoke out the man who had tortured, raped, and in his eyes, eventually murdered Geilya.
The casualties were lamentable, of course, but they had done the same to his people for centuries, hadn’t they? It was the cost of the war the Sepami had brought to him. Ashrad hadn’t known that Cal was in possession of the Rhaveren at the time, but he knew now, and they would be damned if he would ever forget it. They? No. The sword had no voice, he told himself firmly. It had no say. He was in control. He had to be, especially now. He wouldn’t let it take over again. He wanted to be the one to watch Ashrad die – by his hand, not the Rhaveren’s, no matter what its role in getting him there.
Cal’s head was aching by the time they stopped for the night, and his arm was sore from hacking through the brush. Hewryn handed him the battered flask he always carried before sitting down next to him on a log covered in scaly gray lichen.
“Are you even going to bother with the flag?” he asked as Cal drank deeply. “Hey, now, that’s enough. That’s got to last until we get back.”
“I don’t care about the flag. They’ve been playing that idiotic game for twenty years. It’s meaningless.”
“It’s not a game. It’s his house banner, the symbol of his honor. Men have died for it.”
“This one isn’t going to,” Cal said, handing back the bottle. “You can go get it for him if you want. Undoubtedly he’ll give you all the glory.”
“Maybe I will. Those of us without a magic sword still have to prove themselves now and again.”
“Why are you so angry with me?”
“I’m not.”
“Don’t give me that. You’re not a subtle man, Hew.”
“You left Bavennoth to get away,” his friend said after a moment. “To start over, and try to forget. Clearly that meant nothing to you – what I did for you means nothing. You think I wanted to be on that godforsaken island all this time? I left a girl behind, too, not to mention a promising career. What about my chance to make my name and my fortune?
“I went there for you, because you needed me, and now you’re throwing yourself right back into the mire without a thought for anyone else in the world, like you always do. I’m just supposed to tag along as usual, just big stupid Hew doing what he’s told, and be there when you decide you want me to stop you from murdering a village or two.”
“Hew –”
“And I can’t say any of that to you, of course,” he continued, ignoring the interruption, “because you might draw that accursed blade on me again and run me through without thinking, just because it hates that I try to keep you in check. What kind of life is that for me? I love you like my brother, Cal, but even if you cut Ashrad into ribbons tomorrow, it still won’t be the end of it. You won’t stop grieving, and it won’t let you stop killing. I just want things to be like they were, when it was you and me against the world, not you and that thing against me and everyone else.”
“It will be over after this. I promise.”
“You promise a lot of things.”
“We mean it.”
“We?” Hew asked incredulously, looking as if Cal really had stabbed him through the heart.
“I mean it,” said Cal, cringing at the mistake. It wasn’t a mistake, he thought. Was it? They were getting close to what they wanted. So close. This is what he had asked for. He wasn’t thinking about what he might have to give. “Don’t abandon me, Hewryn,” he begged. “Not now. Please.”
“I’m not the one doing the abandoning,” Hew said unhappily. “Part of you left with Geilya the day she died. I’m just trying to keep the rest of you here until your fate finally catches up with you.”
“When is that going to be?”
“Sooner than you think, if you’re not careful.”
“Would that be such a bad thing?” he wondered quietly to himself. Glancing up at the expression on Hewryn’s face made him wish he hadn’t said it. But he missed her terribly. He tried to smile. “I’m joking.”
“It’s not funny,” Hew said curtly, before standing up and walking away.