'And what task is this?'
Taralack Veed rose. 'You will know when the time comes. This task shall be made plain, so plain to you, and so perfect, you will know that you have been fashioned – from the very start – to give answer.
Would that I could be more helpful, Icarium.'
The Jhag's gaze scanned their small encampment. 'Ah, I see you have retrieved my bow and sword.'
'I have. Are you mended enough to travel?'
'Yes, I think so. Although… hungry.'
'I have smoked meat in my pack. The very hare you killed three days ago. We can eat as we walk.'
Icarium climbed to his feet. 'Yes. I do feel some urgency. As if, as if I have been looking for something.' He smiled at the Gral. 'Perhaps my own past…'
'When you discover what you seek, my friend, all knowledge of your past will return to you. So it is prophesied.'
'Ah. Well then, friend Veed, have we a direction in mind?'
Taralack gathered his gear. 'North, and west. We are seeking the wild coast, opposite the island of Sepik.'
'Do you recall why?'
'Instinct, you said. A sense that you are… compelled. Trust those instincts, Icarium, as you have in the past. They will guide us through, no matter who or what stands in our way.'
'Why should anyone stand in our way?' The Jhag strapped on his sword, then retrieved the cup and downed the last of the herbal tea.
'You have enemies, Icarium. Even now, we are being hunted, and that is why we can delay here no longer.'
Collecting his bow, then stepping close to hand the Gral the empty tin cup, Icarium paused, then said, 'You stood guard over me, Taralack Veed. I feel… I feel I do not deserve such loyalty.'
'It is no great burden, Icarium. True, I miss my wife, my children. My tribe. But there can be no stepping aside from this responsibility. I do what I must. You are chosen by all the gods, Icarium, to free the world of a great evil, and I know in my heart that you will not fail.'
The Jhag warrior sighed. 'Would that I shared your faith in my abilities, Taralack Veed.'
'E'napatha N'apur – does that name stir your memories?'
Frowning, Icarium shook his head.
'A city of evil,' Taralack explained. 'Four thousand years ago – with one like me standing at your side – you drew your fearsome sword and walked towards its barred gates. Five days, Icarium. Five days. That is what it took you to slaughter the tyrant and every soldier in that city.'
A look of horror on the Jhag's face. 'I – I did what?'
'You understood the necessity, Icarium, as you always do when faced with such evil. You understood, too, that none could be permitted to carry with them the memory of that city. And why it was necessary to then slay every man, woman and child in E'napatha N'apur. To leave none breathing.'
'No. I would not have. Taralack, no, please – there is no necessity so terrible that could compel me to commit such slaughter-'
'Ah, dear companion,' said Taralack Veed, with great sorrow. 'This is the battle you must always wage, and this is why one such as myself must be at your side. To hold you to the truth of the world, the truth of your own soul. You are the Slayer, Icarium. You walk the Blood Road, but it is a straight and true road. The coldest justice, yet a pure one. So pure even you recoil from it.' He settled a hand on the Jhag's shoulder. 'Come, we can speak more of it as we travel. I have spoken these words many, many times, my friend, and each time you are the same, wishing with all your heart that you could flee from yourself, from who and what you are. Alas, you cannot, and so you must, once more, learn to harden yourself.
'The enemy is evil, Icarium. The face of the world is evil. And so, friend, your enemy is…'
The warrior looked away, and Taralack Veed barely heard his whispered reply, 'The world.'
'Yes. Would that I could hide such truth from you, but I could not claim to be your friend if I did such a thing.'
'No, that is true. Very well, Taralack Veed, let us as you say speak more of this whilst we journey north and west. To the coast opposite the island of Sepik. Yes, I feel… there is something there. Awaiting us.'
'You must needs be ready for it,' the Gral said.
Icarium nodded. 'And so I shall, my friend.'
Each time, the return journey was harder, more fraught, and far, far less certain. There were things that would have made it easier.
Knowing where he had been, for one, and knowing where he must return to, for another. Returning to… sanity? Perhaps. But Heboric Ghost Hands had no firm grasp of what sanity was, what it looked like, felt like, smelled like. It might be that he had never known.
