No more than a league distant, the Judging Eye opens, and Mimara apprehends the extent of Galian’s damnation, the eternity of torment that awaits his final heartbeat. She tells him what she sees, and he hesitates for the certainty of her warning, the pity in her gaze. Then he is flopping across the humus, writhing about the knife in his back. Mimara looks up and sees that Koll, the sole, travel-wasted survivor of the Stone Hags, has saved her.
Together, Achamian and Cleric drive Wutte?t roaring from the Coffers, fleeing like a moth afire into the skies. Thinking their triumph might seal some compact between them, Achamian once again appeals to the Nonman Erratic, to Nil’giccas, but the Last Nonman King has already forgotten. Cleric turns his fearsome sorceries upon the old Wizard.
Stunned, Mimara watches Koll battle Galian’s confederates, Xonghis and Pokwas. Sarl retreats, hugging his beloved Captain’s severed head, cackling and crooning nonsense. Koll, she realizes, is not Koll at all, but Soma—or, rather, the skin-spy that had replaced him so very long ago.
An agent of the Unholy Consult has saved her … Why?
Cleric hammers Achamian with ancient and inhuman sorceries, howling out his final, cryptic sermon as he does so. The Last Nonman King wants only to die, the old Wizard realizes, for he attacks only, and raises no sorcerous defenses. The antique Hero has given Achamian a choice: kill him, or be killed.
Between Xonghis and Pokwas, the thing called Koll is overmatched, but the two scalpers have overlooked Mimara, who is nowhere near as helpless as she appears. Using their distraction, she kills the two scalpers with Galian’s sword. One cannot raise walls against what has been forgotten.
Heartbroken, Achamian strikes Nil’giccas from the sky above him.
Mimara runs to where the thing called Koll lies, demanding to know why it has saved her. But Sarl falls upon the thing with his knife, cackling about the bounty for “spiderfaces”. The forest burns about the sordid scene.
The old Wizard returns to the scalper camp in horror and dismay, only to be overjoyed to find Mimara alive. Together they flee to the Library of Sauglish. They raise a bier to provide Nil’giccas a proper funeral. As the Last Nonman King’s body burns, they ransack the Coffers, find the ancient map described in Achamian’s dreams, the map to Ishu?l—the hidden stronghold of the D?nyain, the birthplace of the Holy Aspect-Emperor.
They gather the ashes of Nil’giccas to replenish their supply of Qirri, then set out on the final leg of their journey. Now far from the lodestone of the Great Ordeal, they are once again beset by Sranc. They persevere, gain the Demua Mountains, and at last surmount the glacier overlooking the vale of the D?nyain. At long last, they see it, Ishu?l …
Itself a gutted ruin.
The Great Ordeal
Once the victim of forces beyond his comprehension, Sorweel now finds himself the agent of such forces as well. He remains a victim so far as he remains the “guest” of the Aspect-Emperor, the demon who murdered his father, conquered his city, and plundered the famed Chorae Hoard. But he has become an agent through the occult ministrations of his slave, Porsparian, who had rubbed the spit of Yatwer, the Dread Mother of Birth, across his cheeks and so rendered his sedition invisible to the Anas?rimbor. But now that Sorweel can hide his heart, what should he do?
Leaving the Pale of Sakarpus behind, the Great Ordeal marches into the arid emptiness of the Istyuli Plains. Not a single Sranc opposes them.
Aimless, Sorweel gives himself over to the camaraderie of the Scions. Though Sheyic, the common tongue of the host, defeats him, he is a young warrior among young warriors—even more, a young hostage among young hostages—and the language of boyish, martial yearning transcends all tongues. If he cannot avenge his father or fathom the Dread Mother’s design, then he will ride out and test himself with his new comrades.
He will ride in his enemy’s war.
Exalt-General Proyas, meanwhile, confers with Kellhus, who informs him the time has come for the Great Ordeal to break up to facilitate foraging. Even more alarmingly, he reveals that the New Empire crumbles in their absence. With all his power concentrated in the Great Ordeal, his old enemies grow ever more bold. To assure the Ordealmen suffer no distractions, no fear for the loved ones they have left behind, he declares an embargo on all sorcerous communications with the Three Seas.
Henceforth, the Great Ordeal marches both divided and alone.