Unholy War by David Hair Page A

couldn’t believe that she and Alaron had not spoken of this before, but then, she’d been busy laughing at his first name – Al’Rhon; in Keshi “the Goat” – and she’d paid no attention to his family name. And anyway, what would be the chances that her father and his might have met, and then their children?
    This is the sign I was seeking! Oh thank you, Parvasi-ji! A thousand blessings!
    ‘By all the gods—’ she started.
    Alaron looked at her uncertainly. ‘What’s wrong? Are you all right?’
    ‘The Lakh man your father met? He was my father, Ispal Ankesharan. My father met yours … it is incredible!’
    They hurriedly swapped accounts, and the fate of Alaron’s mother, blinded by her own spells, confirmed the tale.
    ‘Unbelievable!’ he murmured, awestruck.
    ‘Do you know what this means?’ Ramita asked him. ‘It is Fate!’
    ‘There’s no such thing,’ Alaron said with surprising vehemence.
    ‘But this is living proof – I tell you, Aum is watching us. This is Destiny.’
    He stuck his chin out and declared, ‘No such thing.’
    She snorted. ‘The gods are watching us, Alaron Mercer. Your father met my father in the middle of war-time and talked of peace. That is
Fate
. That is
Destiny
. We are Her instruments.’
    ‘Her?’
    ‘Fate is a goddess, a woman. This is known. The Goddess of Fate is Makheera, who has six eyes and six arms so that she can watch and manipulate past, present and future. She had brought us together.’
    To her confusion Alaron looked increasingly upset. ‘It’s only a coincidence, that’s all.’ He jabbed a finger at her. ‘I refuse to believe that everything I do is determined by any god.’
    ‘Makheera is a grim but malleable goddess,’ Ramita said, to reassure him. ‘She can be bribed, by sacrificing sweets.’ A programme of prayers and sacrifices bloomed in her mind.
    ‘For goodness sake, listen to yourself!’
    ‘People sacrifice to Makheera all the time. Often she grants the person’s wish.’
    His lip curled. ‘In other words, a fifty-fifty chance comes off about half the time.’
    ‘I don’t know why you are angry – this is very auspicious. We are favoured by the gods.’
    ‘Tell that to my mother: she had her eyes burned out.’ He turned his back on her and stared out at the barren landscape.
    Your mother was sinning
, she went to say, then thought better of it. It seemed rude, even ignorant, to make such a judgement. ‘Your mother still gave birth to you. This is the mirror of the story of my Kazim: his father burned, but his wife stood by him, just like your father did.’
    He turned back and said angrily, ‘No! That’s just too trite – what sort of “higher being” would contrive so much pain just to prove a point? It’s
disgusting
. You’re just an ignorant peasant!’
    ‘
Peasant?
So that’s what you think of me!’
    ‘You know
nothing
about what my mother and father have been through.’
    ‘Yes, I do,’ she said patiently. ‘I’ve seen it first-hand. I’ve bathed Raz Makani’s burns myself. His children shared our house.’
    ‘Then you must have had your eyes closed the whole time,’ he said bitterly before storming away.
    *
    Alaron stared out over the featureless sands, seeing nothing, locked in memory. He remembered his mother’s rages, the nights when she would set fire to the bedclothes whilst in the throes of a nightmare, and the way she always tried to hide her marred face from her only child. Tears stung his eyes and he wiped them away angrily. He was aware that Ramita was watching him like a parent waiting for a child to calm down.
    We can’t afford to argue. Kore’s Blood, I’ve got the Scytale of Corineus in my belt and the widow of Antonin Meiros in my care. But she’d better not talk about Destiny again
. He inhaled deeply until he could speak calmly again. ‘I’m sorry. It still hurts.’
    She did her Lakh head-wag, which could mean a lot things but today he thought meant ‘fair enough’.