The Mission #2
On the path down to Dukka, Lill reminded himself that even if Vanu didn’t like it, even if he was angry that Lill hadn’t followed orders, the worst he would do would be to frown and sign, “Don’t take risks like that again,” or some such thing.
A tightness in Lill’s chest eased but did not entirely go away.
He didn’t fear Vanu’s anger; he just … didn’t want to make Vanu angry, all the same.
The path from Sakka to Dukka was not what would qualify as a road in Akramarra or the inner provinces of Zash, but it was broader and better-travelled than the trail down from the mountain.
Lill walked carefully along the side, under the tree line and largely out of the rain, not so much to stay dry as to stay unseen by anyone else on the path.
He had been walking for half an hour, the path was bending more steeply downhill, and the trees on either side had changed, rather suddenly, from mostly pines to something broad-leafed that made quite a different sound in the wind and rain—it was rather startling to realize how far down the mountain he must be by this time.
That was when two travellers passed him, coming up from Dukka.
One of them was walking and carrying a lantern, so Lill saw him coming from some distance and stepped back among the trees.
The other was on horseback and overtook the first just before they passed Lill.
The light of the lantern shone up onto the rider’s face, and Lill was startled to recognize him.
“You there! Is this the road to Umtúshta?” the rider demanded in Zashian.
The man on foot was a local, and he looked round sullenly at the rider.
“Umtúshta? No.” He pointed up the road, jabbing his finger to indicate different spots higher up the mountain. “Sakka, Bukhushka, Tumumi.”
“Then how do I get to Umtúshta?” The rider raised his voice and enunciated his words angrily, as if that would help the other man understand Zashian.
The other man shrugged and jerked a thumb back down toward Dukka. “You’re on the wrong road,” he said in Hawa. “Better go back down and start again.”
He walked on, taking his light with him, and after a moment the rider turned his horse and kicked it into a trot back down the path. Lill stood and watched horse and rider disappear into the darkness, feeling a strange, cold slither in the depth of his stomach. The rider was Arsha.
It should not have caught him so off-guard, Lill told himself sternly. He had known Arsha would be coming sooner or later. Arsha had said so himself.
“I’ll personally deliver the signal when the time is right,” he’d said, when he explained the mission to Lill on Lord Davanu’s rooftop.
Lill had thought it odd at the time that Lord Davanu would send his foster son up into Hawakhurta for something like that, when a hired messenger could do the job—probably more effectively.
But that had been when he thought the mission came from Lord Davanu.
If it was all Arsha’s own plan, it made sense that he would come himself. Who else did he have to send?
Arsha’s plan. That Vanu Urártu should die at the hands of his beloved wife, who was also, as had been “accidentally” revealed to him, the only surviving son of his old ally-turned-enemy. Arsha’s revenge by proxy, repaying betrayal, as he imagined, with betrayal.
If Lill ran down the road, he might still catch up to Arsha.
He could explain that there was no use sending that signal now, because the mission had failed.
That thing that was supposed to have happened to Vanu Urártu, that Lill was meant to have ensured before he struck the fatal blow—it had happened to Lill instead.
“Make sure he falls in love with you,” Arsha had said. “That part is crucial.”
He had spoken as if everyone should know what that meant and how to tell when it had happened, and Lill had supposed that he did and he would. Probably clear statements to that effect would be made. It hadn’t troubled him that he didn’t understand why Arsha wanted it to happen like that.
He understood now, as he stood in the rain under the trees and looked down the dark path where Arsha had disappeared.
He knew how Arsha wanted Vanu to feel, so that Lill’s betrayal would cut like a death wound all on its own.
It was a feeling as if the other person was your shelter and your reward, the only mission you ever needed, the source of all the honour you could ever have.
He knew because that was how he felt. He had fallen in love with Vanu.
Lill dropped to the damp earth and hugged his knees. He felt broken, cracked down the middle, as if he might fall into two pieces at any moment.
He had survived all his life not feeling things like this, building up an armour that prevented him from feeling things like this, and now that was gone. He had no idea how to love anyone; he had never been trained for that.
Draw breath and let it out. Steady. Calm. He was on a mission now; Vanu had given him a mission, and all he needed to do was think about that.
The rain pattered to a stop, the moon came out from behind a cloud, and Lill got to his feet. He continued on down the path.