The Age of Ra

38. Detainees

She found him.

Late in the evening, Colonel Gavrilenko had granted the Freegyptians some freedom of movement around the city ruins. The Setics distributed military rations among them and escorted those who needed toilet breaks. A cautious trust had been established between detainers and detainees.

Zafirah approached David as one of the Freegyptian medics was inserting fresh stitches into his arm. David's smile of greeting was a contorted thing, the best he could manage with a large curved needle worming its way through his flesh, unmitigated by any form of anaesthetic.

''You made it,'' he said. ''You survived. I was about to start looking for you.''

''I've saved you the trouble,'' she said. There were cordite burns on her face and a patch of scorching on her neck — a near-miss from a ba bolt, it was safe to assume — but otherwise she was unharmed. ''Is it true? We're all going home?''

''If Colonel Gavrilenko is to be believed, and I think he is. He says he's ordered up some troop trucks from the rear. Should have them here by the morning.''

''Unexpected kindness from our enemy.''

''I'm not sure the Setics are our enemy,'' David said. ''Frankly, I stopped being clear on the whole business of friend and foe a while back.''

''I've heard rumours. Horusites fighting in league with the Setics. The Hegemony offering to help out the Nephthysians.''

''It's an unholy mess. Or maybe a holy one, I don't know. All I know is, even though we helped trigger this turnabout, no one seems to be holding us to account for it. We were the catalyst, we did our bit, and already we've almost been forgotten.''

''The Lightbringer…'' Zafirah began.

David set his jaw. ''What about him?''

''I didn't see… how they killed him. I was over on the far side of the mountaintop. They had us huddled together there. It was a firing squad, yes?''

''Yes.''

''And he… People are saying he tricked us. Used us. All his talk of ridding the world of the gods — it was all lies.''

David picked his words with care. ''It seems that way. He was playing a different game.''

''But we believed him!'' she exclaimed. ''We believed in him.''

''I know. And many of us died for him.''

''How can someone do that? How?''

''Maybe… maybe because he had no choice. He couldn't see what else to do.''

''No, that is too generous. Too forgiving. He had a choice. He chose to deceive. And now he's paid for it, and good riddance.'' She spat on the ground. ''I only wish I'd been there, at the execution. I wish they'd let me have a ba lance. I wouldn't have been merciful and aimed for his head, either.''

The jewels of her eyes blazed, and David knew that, even if the medic hadn't been there, this would not have been the moment to tell her everything he knew about the Lightbringer and reveal the truth of his relationship with him. That would have to wait till later, assuming he and Zafirah had a ''later''. He hoped that she would see that he had been misled by Steven as much as anyone, if not more than anyone.

''One good thing he did, though,'' she said. ''He explained you to me.''

''Me?''

''About how you were. I went to see him yesterday morning. I wanted to talk about you. I thought he might be able to give me some insight into you. Tell me what made you tick. He was an Englishman, so are you, and the two of you appeared to get on well. I felt, if anyone could help me, he could.''

She was referring to the meeting that David had, by chance, spied on, while drunk. The one he'd taken to be the aftermath of a lovers' tryst.

So it wasn't?

''And did he?'' he said. ''Help?''

''He said you were inhibited. You had emotions, buried deep down inside you, but you didn't always know what they were or how to deal with them. He said what made you happy was when you didn't have to think about things too hard, when everything was stripped down to the basics. That made you good at being a soldier, he said. Good at being a schoolboy too, and a son. But not so good in more complicated situations, when the rules weren't so clear cut.''

''Ah.'' David gave a slow nod. ''Well, he might not have been wrong.''

''He was very gentle about it. These weren't criticisms. He just described the sort of man you were, and then ended it by touching my cheek and telling me to be patient with you, not to put pressure on you. You'd sort yourself out, given time.''

''Just touched your cheek?''

''Like so.'' She pressed the palm of one hand to the side of David's face, softly, warmly, for several seconds. ''To reassure me. He was…'' She thumbed at the corner of each of her eyes. ''I hate him. I'm glad he's dead. But he was sincere then, I'm sure of it. He wanted me to be able to understand you. And he wanted to give me the courage to be able to do this, something I promised myself I would do when I next saw you.''

She leaned forward and kissed David. Her mouth was hard against his, unequivocal. He closed his eyes. He heard the medic chuckle beside him. The kiss ended. He wanted it to go on. His lips tingled with it. He wanted Zafirah to kiss him again. He opened his eyes, and she was walking away. She didn't look back. She had made her point, and now it was up to him. What happened next was up to him.

''Finished,'' said the medic, tying a knot in the surgical thread. ''Go now. Go after the woman.''

David stood. His arm throbbed and he felt woozy.

Steven, faintly, like an echo of an echo: She isn't for you.

Protecting him. Unselfishly. A younger brother looking out for the older.

And everything he'd seen when paralytic on sake was not what he thought he'd seen. He'd assumed the worst, and overlooked the alternative possibility.

''Go,'' urged the medic, jabbing the needle in the air, like an incentive.

David tottered forward.