‘How about you?’ asked Raith. ‘Didn’t mark you as the type for swords.’
‘No.’ Koll grinned even wider. ‘I was going to ask if she’d marry me.’
Raith’s brows went shooting up at that, and no mistake. ‘Eh?’
‘Should’ve done it long ago, but I never been too good at making choices. Made a lot of the wrong ones. Done a lot of dithering. I’ve been selfish. I’ve been weak. Didn’t want to hurt anyone so I ended up hurting everyone.’ He took a long breath. ‘But death waits for us all. Life’s about making the best of what you find along the way. A man who’s not content with what he’s got, well, more than likely he won’t be content with what he hasn’t.’
‘Wise words, I reckon.’
‘Yes they are. So I’m going to beg her forgiveness – on my knees if I have to, which knowing her I probably will – then I’m going to ask her to wear my key and I’m hoping a very great deal she’ll say yes.’
‘Thought you were headed for the Ministry?’
Koll worked his neck out, scratching hard at the back of his head. ‘For a long time so did I, but there’s all kinds of ways a man can change the world, I reckon. My mother told me … to be the best man I could.’ His eyes were suddenly swimming, and he laughed, and tugged at a thong around his neck, something clicking under his shirt. ‘Shame it took me this long to work out what she meant. But I got there in the end. Not too late, I hope. You going in then?’
Raith winced towards the window, and cleared his throat. ‘No.’ He used to have naught but contempt for this boy. Now he found he envied him. ‘I reckon your errand comes first.’
‘Not going to butt me again, are you?’
Raith waved at his broken nose. ‘I’m nowhere near so keen on butting as I was. Best of luck.’ And he slapped Koll on the shoulder as he passed. ‘I’ll come back tomorrow.’
But he knew he wouldn’t.
Evening time, and the shadows were long on the docks as Mother Sun slipped down over Skekenhouse. The last light glinted on glass in Raith’s palm. The vial Mother Scaer had given him, empty now. It’d been foreseen no man could kill Grom-gil-Gorm, but a few drips in a cup of wine had got it done. Koll had been right. Death waits for us all.
Raith took a hard breath, made a fist of his hand and winced at that old ache through his broken knuckles. You’d think pain would get less with time, but the longer you feel it, the worse it hurts. Jenner had been right too. Nothing ever quite heals.
He’d been a king’s sword-bearer and a queen’s bodyguard, he’d been the first warrior into battle and an oarsman on a hero’s crew. Now he wasn’t sure what he was. Wasn’t even sure what he wanted to be.
Fighting was all he’d known. He’d thought Mother War would bring him glory, and a glittering pile of ring-money, and the brotherhood of the shield-wall. But she’d taken his brother and given him nothing but wounds. He hugged his sore ribs, scratched at the dirty bandages on his burned arm, wrinkled his broken nose and felt the dull pain spread through his face. This was what fighting got you, if it didn’t get you dead. Hungry, aching and alone with a heap of regrets head-high.
‘Didn’t work out, eh?’ Thorn Bathu stood looking down at him, hands propped on her hips, the orange glory of Mother Sun’s setting at her back, so all he could see was her black outline.
‘How did you know?’ he asked.
‘Whatever it is, you don’t look like a man it worked out for.’
Raith gave a sigh right from his guts. ‘Did you come to mock me or kill me? Either way I can’t be bothered to stop you.’
‘Neither one, as it happens.’ Thorn slowly sat, her long legs dangling over the side of the quay beside his. She was silent a while, a frown on her scarred face. A breeze blew up and Raith watched a pair of dried-up leaves go chasing each other down the quay. Finally she spoke again. ‘Life ain’t easy for the likes of us, is it?’
‘Doesn’t seem to be.’
‘Those who are touched by Mother War …’ She stared out towards the glittering horizon. ‘We don’t know what to do with ourselves when Father Peace gets his turn. Those of us who’ve fought all our lives, when we run out of enemies …’
‘We fight ourselves,’ said Raith.
‘Queen Laithlin offered me my old place as her Chosen Shield.’
‘Good for you.’
‘I can’t take it.’
‘No?’
‘I stay around here, all I’ll ever see is what I’ve lost.’ She stared off at nothing, a sad half-smile on her lips. ‘Brand wouldn’t have wanted me pining. That boy had no jealousy in him. He’d have wanted new shoots in the ashes.’ She slapped the stones beside her. ‘So Father Yarvi’s giving me the South Wind.’