Farlander (31 page)

‘Yes, but we have always
tried
. It is the promise that we make.’

‘Our promise, yes,’ Osh
agreed. ‘But in the old country, our promise was always a practical one. I doubt that we would have ever risked our entire order in such a way as this.’

Ash shook his head. ‘That may be. But we are a different thing here, in this land, than the old assassins. We have remained detached from the politics of the world, and neither do we manoeuvre for our own gain. We simply offer justice for those that are in need of it. If we do not risk ourselves now, then our promise to all those people means nothing, and
we
mean nothing, and all we have ever lived for is merely a sham.’

Osh
considered his words. It seemed he could not find fault with them.

Ash continued: ‘What did you yourself always say to me when I was most anxiously facing a decision?’

‘Many things, most of them nonsense.’

‘Yes, but what was the same thing you said to me, time after time?’

‘Ah,’ growled the old general. ‘
Grin, and roll the dice
.’

‘A worthy sentiment, I always thought.’

Osh
’s sigh was audible. It was an expression of release, though, not exasperation, and he relaxed further into his deep chair, his eyes regarding something on the chee-table set in the middle of the room, perhaps the play of sunlight across its surface. The table itself was of wild tiq, carved from the planking of one of those ships that had brought them both here all the way from Honshu thirty years before.

Ash studied this old man he had known for so much of his life. His master seemed unaware of his own hand scratching idly at his left leg. Ash noticed it, though, and he smiled to himself, without commenting.

It appeared that, in some way, the debate was settled for now. They fell into one of their comfortable silences, the kind that could last for hours without any need for talk. A clatter sounded somewhere beneath the floorboards, distant enough to be subdued, probably someone dropping an armful of training weaponry, or perhaps a stack of platters from the nearby kitchen. Nearly lunchtime, Ash thought, so more likely platters. Friendly smells wafted in though the open window: keesh baking, and spicy stew.

Osh
stirred in his chair, glanced down at his hand, saw it scratching his leg. He snatched it away, bemused. ‘Over twenty years I’ve been with this wooden leg of mine, and still I scratch at phantom itches as though they really existed.’

Ash barely heard him though. The dull ache in his head was worsening, and he clasped a hand to his forehead.

‘Are you all right, old friend?’

Osh
arose into continuing silence, adjusted his false leg and limped across the room to where Ash perched on the deep, sunlit window seat.

‘Yes,’ replied Ash, but with his voice shaking. He pressed both temples with his fingers, trying to squeeze away the pain.

‘The headaches again?’ inquired Osh
, resting a hand on his shoulder.

‘Yes.’

‘They grow worse, then?’

Ash fumbled deep inside his robe, then produced his pouch. His fingers shook as he opened it and drew out a dried dulce leaf. He placed it in his mouth, settling it between tongue and cheek.

‘They have grown so bad recently, sometimes I cannot see at all.’

Osh
’s hand squeezed his shoulder. It was not like him, to offer a gesture of comfort.

Ash drew out another leaf and placed it inside his mouth, against the other cheek.

‘Is there anything I can do for you? Ch’eng, perhaps?’

‘No, master. He cannot help me.’

‘Please, enough of the
master
. You ceased to be my apprentice a long, long time ago.’

The pain slowly subsided. Enough at least for Ash to smile back at him – though he avoided his master’s eyes, which had grown watery and dark all of a sudden.

‘We grow older than we think,’ he said in an attempt at lightening the mood.

‘No,’ said Osh
, as he shuffled back to his padded chair. ‘
You
grow older than you think.
I
am already aware of my decrepitude, and plan to retire as soon as possible with what little dignity remains to me.’

‘I have been pondering the same thing,’ admitted Ash.

The old general settled back in his chair and fixed Ash with a look that was familiar after these long years – his head tilted back, his sharp features drawn in concentration, his hooded eyes appraising whoever was before them. ‘I had hoped as much, when I saw you with an apprentice after all these years. What prompted your change of mind?’

‘I have not changed my mind. But we had a conversation, you and I, some months ago. In my head.’

‘When you were on the ice?’

He nodded.

‘Perhaps, then, it was more than that. I had a dream some months back. It was very cold. You did not think you were going to make it.’

‘No, I did not. But you offered me a bargain, and a promise that I would make it home alive if I agreed. So I took it.’

‘I see. And what was this bargain?’

‘That you would not stop me from my work, so long as I was training an apprentice.’

Osh
chuckled. ‘Ah, that would explain it. Yes, a fair bargain – one that I will stand by.’