He wasn't really a soldier, though, and he had...
He wasn't really a soldier, though, and he had never been good at hating
He couldn't actually see any figures moving in the grass across the river, but he could see the fires and it wasn't hard to judge how many more of them lay north of the Deisa than there were here behind him, where his people waited for the dawn
Almost certainly their lastHe had no illusions; none of them didNot since the battle at this same river five days agoAll they had was courage, and a leader whose defiant gallantry was almost matched by the two young sons who were here with him
They were beautiful boys, both of themSaevar regretted that he had never had the chance to sculpt either of themThe Prince he had done of course, many timesThe Prince called him a friendIt could not be said, Saevar thought, that he had lived a useless or an empty lifeHe'd had his art, the joy of it and the spur, and had lived to see it praised by the great ones of his province, indeed of the whole peninsula
And he'd known love, as wellHe thought of his wife and then of his own two childrenThe daughter whose eyes had taught him part of the meaning of life on the day she'd been born fifteen years agoAnd his son, too young by a year to have been allowed to come north to warSaevar remembered the look on the boy's face when they had partedHe supposed that chanel bags and wallets much the same expression had been in his own eyesHe'd embraced both children, and then he'd held his wife for a long time, in silence; all the words had been spoken many times through all the yearsThen he'd turned, quickly, so they would not see his tears, and mounted his horse, unwontedly awkward with a sword on his hip, and had ridden away with his Prince to war against those who had come upon them from over the sea
He heard a light tread, behind him and to his left, from where the campfires were burning and voices were threading in song to the tune a syrenya playedHe turned to the sound
"Be careful," he called softly"Unless you want to trip over a sculptor
"Saevar?" an amused voice murmured
"It is, my lord Prince," he replied"Can you remember a night so beautiful?"
Valentin walked over, there was more than enough light by which to see, and sank neatly down on the grass beside him"Not readily," he agreed"Can you see? Vidomni's waxing matches Ilarion's waneThe two moons together would make one whole
"A strange whole that would be," Saevar said
"Tis a strange night
"Is it? Is the night changed by what we do down here? We mortal men in our folly?"
"The way we see it is," Valentin said softly, his quick mind engaged by the question"The beauty we find is shaped, at least in part, by what we know the morning fake fendi bag will bring
"What will it bring, my lord?" Saevar asked, before he could stop himselfHalf hoping, he realized, as a child hopes, that his dark-haired Prince of grace and pride would have an answer yet to what lay waiting across the riverAn answer to all those Ygrathen voices and all the Ygrathen fires burning north of themAn answer, most of all, to the terrible King of Ygrath and his sorcery, and the hatred that he at least would have no trouble summoning tomorrow
Valentin was silent, looking out at the riverOverhead Saevar saw a star fall, angling across the sky west of them to plunge, most likely, into the wideness of the seaHe was regretting the question; this was no time to be putting a burden of false certitude upon the Prince
Just as he was about to apologize, Valentin spoke, his voice measured and low, so as not to carry beyond their small circle of dark
"I have been walking among the fires, and Corsin and Loredan have been doing the same, offering comfort and hope and such laughter as we can bring to ease men into sleepThere is not much else we can do
"They are good boys, both of them," Saevar offered"I was thinking that I've never sculpted either of them
"I'm sorry for that," Valentin said"If anything lasts for any length of time after us it will be art such as yoursOur books and music, chanel earrings Orsaria's green and white tower in Avalle He paused, and returned to his original thoughtThey are also sixteen and nineteen, and if I could have I would have left them behind with their brother
It was one of the reasons Saevar loved him: that Valentin would remember his own boy, and think of him with the youngest prince, even now, at such a time as this
To the east and a little behind them, away from the fires, a trialla suddenly began to sing and both men fell silent, listening to the silver of that soundSaevar's heart was suddenly full, he was afraid that he might shame himself with tears, that they would be mistaken for fear
Valentin said, "But I haven't answered your question, old friendTruth seems easier here in the dark, away from the fires and all the need I have been seeing thereSaevar, I am so sorry, but the truth is that almost all of the morning's blood will be ours, and I am afraid it will be all of ours
"There is nothing to forgive," Saevar said quickly, and as firmly as he could"This is not a war of your making, nor one you could avoid or undoAnd besides, I may not be a soldier but I hope I am not a foolIt was an idle question: I can see the answer for myself, my lordIn the fires across the river
"And the sorcery," Valentin added quietly"More that, than the firesWe could beat back greater black quilted chanel purse numbers, even weary and wounded as we are from last week's battleBut Brandin's magic is with them nowThe lion has come himself, not the cub, and because the cub is dead there must be blood for the morning sunShould I have surrendered last week? To the boy?"
Saevar turned to look at the Prince in the blended moonlight, disbelievingHe was speechless for a moment, then found his voice"I would have gone home from that surrender," he said, with resolution, "and walked into the Palace by the Sea, and smashed every sculpture I ever made of you
A second later he heard an odd soundIt took him a moment to realize that Valentin was laughing, because it wasn't laughter like any Saevar had ever heard
"Oh, my friend," the Prince said, at length, "I think I knew you would say thatWill they remember that most about us, do you think, after we are gone?"
"Perhaps," Saevar said"But they will rememberThe one thing we know with certainty is that they will remember usHere in the peninsula, and in Ygrath, and Quileia, even west over the sea, in Barbadior and its Empire
"And we leave our children," Valentin saidSons and daughters who will remember usBabes in arms our wives and grandfathers will teach when they grow up to know the story of the River Deisa, what happened here, and, even more, what we were in this province before the chanel denim purse replica f