Goddess by Fiona McIntosh Page B

suggested that silence conserved energy. But despite today’s sapping temperature, Ana was not about to let this topic drop. It galled her that Arafanz had controlled them all with such ease. And worse, she had always liked Salazin, so his betrayal cut even deeper.
    ‘You left the dying in the desert after the attack. I heard a few of your men groaning. Did you go back for them or was their “Glory” calling?’ she asked, scornful.
    Arafanz did not rise to her bait. In his calm, steady voice he answered, ‘No, they had already pledged their lives. Razeen’s work is not yet done on this plane. He was saved for another day for he still has an important duty to perform.’
    ‘And what is that?’
    ‘I do not know. I know only that his life is precious and he is still in the service of Lyana.’
    ‘Why was he chosen? Why is he so different from any of the other men who have pledged their lives?’
    ‘I had no say. He was selected and groomed from birth.’
    ‘By Ellyana?’
    He nodded and she sensed for the first time a tiny indication of discomfort in her captor’s manner.
    ‘So you took Razeen from his mother’s arms and committed him to this crusade of yours. Did she have any say in this?’
    ‘His mother is dead,’ he replied, his tone flat. Ana was secretly surprised he was being so honest. She was also beginning to suspect that this man shared another quality with her lover; like Lazar he too preferred to deal only with truth. Lazar had lived with a lie for so long it had made him distant, cold, perhaps even constantly hating himself. The candour Arafanz was showing was far closer to the real man than the leader of the Razaqin who had beguiled them in the desert with his tricks and subterfuge.
    ‘And his father?’
    ‘He’s alive,’ he said, sitting up straighter on his camel and scanning the rock face they had been following. ‘We are close.’
    ‘And Razeen’s father is happy about his son’s vocation?’
    ‘He is.’
    ‘And when Razeen dies, as he surely will?’
    ‘Then he has glorified himself for Lyana.’
    ‘And you will feel glorified too?’
    Arafanz hesitated. ‘No. I will mourn him, if I’m alive.’
    ‘Mourn him?’ she said, breathing hard with anger. ‘And what of the other young men whose deaths you’ve ordered on a whim?’
    He turned, his eyes also blazing with the anger she had wanted. It thrilled Ana to see that she had finally pushed him into revealing a true emotion.
    ‘Mourn Razeen?’ she persisted. ‘Why?’
    ‘Because he’s my son,’ he said. His voice cracked ever so slightly, and Ana glimpsed the sorrow in his gaze before he turned away.
    All the fury went out of her in a gust. ‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured.
    ‘Don’t be. He’s not. He’s the most committed of Lyana’s followers.’ He sighed. ‘I knew even before Razeen entered the palace that the Zar’s mother feared you.’
    ‘She had nothing to fear from me.’
    Arafanz gave a soft grunt. ‘She had everything to fear. You were the single most important threat since the early days of her rise through the harem.’
    ‘How old are you?’
    Again she sensed his amusement; he had found his way back to his protective shell. ‘Old enough,’ he said.
    ‘Not married?’
    ‘To Lyana, perhaps.’
    Ana was intrigued. He was so like Lazar in his containment. ‘Never a need for a woman?’ she pressed.
    ‘I didn’t say that. I’ve already told you that Razeen is my son.’
    ‘Do you—’
    ‘I permitted you to ride with me, Zaradine Ana, not interrogate me. Did you question Spur Lazar in this manner?’
    ‘You remind me of him.’
    ‘In what way?’
    ‘Your aloofness, your single-mindedness, your arrogance, your terrible vulnerability.’
    He turned now. ‘And how about our attraction? Do I fire your heart in the same way that Lazar has?’
    It was her turn to feel invaded. She refused to cave under his intense scrutiny. ‘No.’
    ‘Why?’
    ‘Because he’s not a murderer.’
    They locked