She heard as much in his weak, shaky voice. ‘You ran long and far,’ she said.
‘Only to find myself standing still, here before a sickly fire. I am not so foolish as to be unaware of my crimes.’
Hull grunted behind them. ‘Would those be crimes already committed, or those to come, Buruk the Pale?’
‘The distinction is without meaning,’ the merchant replied. ‘Tonight,’ he said, straightening himself, ‘we shall be made guests of Hannan Mosag. Are you both ready?’
‘The formality,’ Seren said, ‘is the least of what this meeting portends, Buruk. The Warlock King intends to make his position unambiguous. We will hear a warning, which we are expected to deliver to the delegation when it arrives.’
‘Intentions are similarly without relevance, Acquitor. I am without expectations, whereas one of us three is consumed by nothing else. Rehearsed statements, dire pronouncements, all await this fell visit.’ Buruk swung his head to regard Hull Beddict. ‘You still think like a child, don’t you? Clay figurines sunk to their ankles in the sand, one here, one there, standing just so. One says this, the other says that, then you reach down and rearrange them accordingly. Scenes, vistas, stark with certainty. Poor Hull Beddict, who took a knife to his heart so long ago that he twists daily to confirm it’s still there.’
‘If you would see me as a child,’ the huge man said in growl, ‘that is your error, not mine, Buruk.’
‘A gentle warning,’ the merchant replied, ‘that you are not among children.’
Buruk then gestured them to follow and made his way towards the citadel.
Falling in step beside Hull – with the merchant a half-dozen paces ahead, barely visible in the dark – Seren asked, ‘Have you met this Hannan Mosag?’
‘I have been guest here before, Seren.’
‘Of the Warlock King’s?’
‘No, of the Sengar household. Close to the royal blood, the eldest son, Fear Sengar, is Hannan Mosag’s Marshal of War – not his actual title, but it serves well as translation.’
Seren considered this for a moment, then frowned and said, ‘You anticipate, then, that friends will be present tonight.’
‘I had, but it is not to be. None of the Sengar barring the patriarch, Tomad, and his wife are in the village. The sons have left.’