grotesquely twisted. He must have fallen badly, thought Ananais. But then, if the fall had not killed him, the poison would have done so. Carefully he removed his gauntlets, pressing the hidden stud and sliding the needle covers in place over the knuckles. Tucking them into his belt, he raced after the man and the girl.
They ducked through a side door off a cobbled street, and Ananais found himself in a darkened inn, the shutters closed and the chairs stacked on tables. The man and the girl were standing by the long bar.
The landlord—a short, balding fat man—was pouring wine into clay jugs. He glanced up as Ananais walked forward out of the shadows, and the carafe fell from his trembling fingers.
Scaler spun around, his eyes fearful.
“Oh, it’s you!” he said. “You certainly move quietly for a big man. It’s all right, Lareas; this is the man who rescued Valtaya.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said the landlord. “Drink?”
“Thanks.”
“The world’s gone mad,” said Lareas. “You know, during the first five years that I ran this inn there was not one murder. Everyone had at least a little money. It was a joy in those days. The world’s gone mad!”
He poured wine for Ananais, refilling his own glass, which he drained at a single swallow. “Mad! I hate violence. I came here for the quiet life. A corn city just off the Sentran Plain—no trouble. And look at us now. Animals that walk like men. Laws no one can understand, let alone obey. Informers, thieves, murderers. Break wind during the anthem and you are dubbed a traitor.”
Ananais pulled a chair from a table and sat down with his back to the trio. Gently he lifted his mask and sipped the wine. Valtaya joined him, and he turned his head away, then finished the wine and replaced his mask. Her hand reached out and covered his own.
“Thank you for the gift of life,” she said.
“It was my pleasure, lady.”
“Your scars are bad?”
“I have not seen worse.”
“Have they healed?”
“Mostly. The one under my right eye opens now and then. I can live with it.”
“I will heal it for you.”
“It is not necessary.”
“It is a small thing. I would like to do it for you. Have no fear. I have seen scars before.”
“Not like these, lady. I have no face beneath this mask. But I was handsome once.”
“You are handsome still,” she said.
His blue eyes blazed, and he leaned forward, fist clenched. “Do not make a fool of me, woman!”
“I merely meant …”
“I know what you meant—you meant to be kind. Well, I do not need kindness. Or understanding. I was handsome, and I enjoyed it. Now I am a monster, and I have learned to live with it.”
“Now
you
listen,” Valtaya ordered, leaning forward on her elbows. “What I was going to say was that looks mean nothing to me. Deeds paint better pictures of a man than skin hanging from tendons and bones. What you did today was handsome.”
Ananais leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest.
“I am sorry,” he said. “Forgive me.”
She chuckled and reached forward, gripping his hand.
“There is nothing to forgive. We just know each other a little better.”
“Why did they seek to burn you?” he asked, laying his hand on hers and enjoying the warmth of her skin.
She shrugged. “I deal in herbs and medicines. And I always speak the truth.”
“That accounts for witchcraft and sedition. What about theft?”
“I borrowed a horse. Tell me about you.”
“Little to tell. I am a warrior in search of a war.”
“Is that why you came back to Drenai?”
“Who knows?”
“Do you really have an army?”
“A force of two. But it’s a beginning.”
“It’s optimistic, anyway. Does your friend fight as well as you?”
“Better. He’s Tenaka Khan.”
“The Nadir prince. The Khan of Shadows.”
“You know your history.”
“I was raised at Dros Delnoch,” she said, sipping her wine. “I thought he would be dead with the rest of the
They ducked through a side door off a cobbled street, and Ananais found himself in a darkened inn, the shutters closed and the chairs stacked on tables. The man and the girl were standing by the long bar.
The landlord—a short, balding fat man—was pouring wine into clay jugs. He glanced up as Ananais walked forward out of the shadows, and the carafe fell from his trembling fingers.
Scaler spun around, his eyes fearful.
“Oh, it’s you!” he said. “You certainly move quietly for a big man. It’s all right, Lareas; this is the man who rescued Valtaya.”
“Pleased to meet you,” said the landlord. “Drink?”
“Thanks.”
“The world’s gone mad,” said Lareas. “You know, during the first five years that I ran this inn there was not one murder. Everyone had at least a little money. It was a joy in those days. The world’s gone mad!”
He poured wine for Ananais, refilling his own glass, which he drained at a single swallow. “Mad! I hate violence. I came here for the quiet life. A corn city just off the Sentran Plain—no trouble. And look at us now. Animals that walk like men. Laws no one can understand, let alone obey. Informers, thieves, murderers. Break wind during the anthem and you are dubbed a traitor.”
Ananais pulled a chair from a table and sat down with his back to the trio. Gently he lifted his mask and sipped the wine. Valtaya joined him, and he turned his head away, then finished the wine and replaced his mask. Her hand reached out and covered his own.
“Thank you for the gift of life,” she said.
“It was my pleasure, lady.”
“Your scars are bad?”
“I have not seen worse.”
“Have they healed?”
“Mostly. The one under my right eye opens now and then. I can live with it.”
“I will heal it for you.”
“It is not necessary.”
“It is a small thing. I would like to do it for you. Have no fear. I have seen scars before.”
“Not like these, lady. I have no face beneath this mask. But I was handsome once.”
“You are handsome still,” she said.
His blue eyes blazed, and he leaned forward, fist clenched. “Do not make a fool of me, woman!”
“I merely meant …”
“I know what you meant—you meant to be kind. Well, I do not need kindness. Or understanding. I was handsome, and I enjoyed it. Now I am a monster, and I have learned to live with it.”
“Now
you
listen,” Valtaya ordered, leaning forward on her elbows. “What I was going to say was that looks mean nothing to me. Deeds paint better pictures of a man than skin hanging from tendons and bones. What you did today was handsome.”
Ananais leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his broad chest.
“I am sorry,” he said. “Forgive me.”
She chuckled and reached forward, gripping his hand.
“There is nothing to forgive. We just know each other a little better.”
“Why did they seek to burn you?” he asked, laying his hand on hers and enjoying the warmth of her skin.
She shrugged. “I deal in herbs and medicines. And I always speak the truth.”
“That accounts for witchcraft and sedition. What about theft?”
“I borrowed a horse. Tell me about you.”
“Little to tell. I am a warrior in search of a war.”
“Is that why you came back to Drenai?”
“Who knows?”
“Do you really have an army?”
“A force of two. But it’s a beginning.”
“It’s optimistic, anyway. Does your friend fight as well as you?”
“Better. He’s Tenaka Khan.”
“The Nadir prince. The Khan of Shadows.”
“You know your history.”
“I was raised at Dros Delnoch,” she said, sipping her wine. “I thought he would be dead with the rest of the
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