“Conversely, would he not sell even his soul to a devil if only he could break you, Adjutant?”
Hanbun too had heard from Jamalik what had happened when Gene went to meet Sara Izram. He knew very well why Nikephoros was after Gene and why he hated him so deeply. Jamalik, who had heard Gene and Sara’s conversation himself, had not opposed the duel as readily as Hanbun. This contest connected to the duel between Nikephoros and Gene’s teacher, Garon Vendigate, thirty years earlier. No, twenty-eight, to be precise. Garon had defeated Nikephoros, but vanished afterward. Later, he appeared as a gladiator in Epherium and taught Gene, having lost both a finger and his perfect skill. Who had cut off that finger?
But Hanbun opposed the duel with his usual firmness.
“The general cannot have proposed this without some scheme. I have never dared go against your wishes, but I will oppose this. You must not stake your life on such a matter. Your life is not so light a thing. You are neither a man of Delphinad nor a back-alley patrol captain. Your name is not Shadowhawk.”
He had stopped there, but Gene knew what name he wished to say if he could: Polytimos, the name Gene found most uncomfortable, yet his true name in the end. But Gene had forbidden them to use it within Delphinad.
Hanbun’s reasons for objecting were perfectly understandable. In truth, they were far more persuasive than Gene’s reasons for accepting. Yet Gene did not cancel the duel. It was as though he deliberately climbed a dangerous cliff, repeatedly tasted bitterness, deliberately pressed on an aching wound. And he even felt a sense of having done it before. This was not the first time.
Smiling mischievously at Hanbun, who had disregarded his orders and followed him all the way to the House of the Masons, Gene had said, “Don’t you think the fight that made me meet all of you was madness much like this?”
Even Hanbun could not refute that. It had been a battle no one would have blamed him for avoiding, one for which he had no duty to take responsibility. In anyone’s eyes, it had been madness. Yet because of it, Hanbun, Jamalik, Gayar, and Ashabel were alive. And they had followed Gene here. He had not fought then knowing it would turn out this way. Even so, what was he fighting for now?
Then he heard a rattle inside the house. At once he approached the entrance and looked in. Someone was there. Who? It was no place for a petty thief to choose. The rain had driven away the spectators. Could it be someone the general sent? As Gene was about to step over the boards, someone appeared near the kitchen.
It was Rosa.
Gene stopped awkwardly with one foot raised. Looking at him, she said, “The back entrance is lower. It’s easier to get in.”
He simply took hold of one side of the doorway and vaulted over. Rosa shrugged, as if to say, “Suit yourself.”
Perhaps the laborers Neups had brought had cleared away the rubbish, for the first-floor hall stood empty. All that caught the eye was the place where the stable area had been swept clean, the marks left by the stairs, and the gaping windows. With the grain bins and laundry tubs gone, the altar had regained a little of its sanctity.
Standing opposite Rosa in the empty hall, Gene felt rather awkward. He knew why. There was something he should say, but it had refused to come out since the day before yesterday. Having put it off, it had now become still harder to raise. Whether she knew how he felt or not, Rosa looked at him with her usual challenging eyes and said, “You’ve been in the rain.”
“It’s warm rain. I’m all right.”
She glanced outside the door and answered, “I suppose you would be.”
The rain in the north must be cold. Though Rosa did not explain, Gene thought that as he pushed back his wet hair. In only a short time, he had become thoroughly soaked, his hair and clothes clinging to him. Rosa was dry. She must have arrived before the rain, alone as well.
“Why have you come here?”
“I left something behind.”
She held a small doll made from rags. Both the doll’s clothes and its body bore clear signs of repeated mending. At Gene’s questioning look, she said, “I thought this might help Nana sleep.”
“Can’t she sleep?”
“She’s been awake for three days.”
“Three days?”
That meant she had not slept at all since the siege. Gene had thought only how fortunate it was that she had no injuries, forgetting that Nana was a child. At a loss, he asked, “Was she frightened by the blood? Did she see something horrible?”
Rosa gave a bitter smile with only her lips.
“No. Nana isn’t that sort of child. Battles are commonplace at home.”
“Then why…”
“I’m going to explain that now. It may be rather complicated.”
It was the first time he had seen Rosa preface a story with an explanation like that. What followed was startling enough to justify it.
Nana possessed a special power that she must not use carelessly, Rosa said. Using a little during the battle had put her into a kind of awakened state. Once she entered it, not only did she cease to sleep, she lost most human judgment and habits, and forgot even how to speak. She did not eat either, only acted impulsively, as though following an invisible instinct. Rosa had controlled the strength in expectation that something like this might happen, and fortunately it had gone no further.
Rosa spoke so calmly that Gene found himself growing surprised, as though it might have been a common illness anyone could catch, like a cold or measles. But when he heard her mention a further stage, he could not help asking, “Could it get worse?”
“I don’t think it will now.”
“What happens if it does?”
Rosa looked at Gene, then wrinkled her nose slightly.
“I can’t tell you any more. You’d be frightened. In any case, it isn’t happening now. All I want is for Nana to return to normal soon. Time may solve it, but there’s no guarantee an accident won’t happen before then.”
“What sort of accident? You can’t tell me that either because I’d be frightened?”
“Gene.”
It was the first time Rosa had spoken his name directly. His eyebrow twitched, and his pulse quickened a little. She continued.
“I think I can trust you, but it’s better for you not to know any more. Not because it’s you. It would be better for anyone in the world not to know.”
“But Rosa, you know.”
He too deliberately used her name. Unlike her stiff manner and temperament, “Rosa” was a very soft name. Perhaps the softest part of her. She nodded.
“I wish I didn’t know either. But it’s a burden I took on willingly. I cannot escape it.”
“Is there nothing I can do?”
“If someday I can no longer handle it by myself, I’ll ask you then.”
After a moment, Gene nodded too. He knew that even if he pressed her, he would hear no more than that. Rosa had a castle of her own, admitting no one and letting no one out. As its sole guardian, all the good and bad within belonged to her. He did not know what else she kept inside it with Nana, but the gates were still closed. There was no promise, but merely hearing that he might someday be invited in was a kind of progress.
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