The Shattered Land_ The Dreaming Dark - Keith Baker [28]
Daine watched her, rubbing his hand. He could handle a sword with ease, but words—words were another matter. He’d known Lei for almost three years, but he’d never thought to ask her about her childhood. His history with his own family, the mercenaries of House Deneith, was a bitter one. After years of serving in the Blademark, he’d become disgusted with the moral ambivalence of the dragonmark houses, which typically put the pursuit of gold above all else. Daine often wondered what would have happened if the dragonmark houses had used their influence at the start of the Last War, if they’d taken sides—could they have ended it quickly, without the terrible loss of life of the past century? Had the thought even crossed the minds of any of the barons, or had they only seen the profit, as House Cannith built weapons for all nations, House Deneith fueled the fire with its mercenary armies, and every other house found its own way to profit from the conflict?
When it came down to it, he’d let his disgust with his house cloud his judgment of Lei. He remembered his own childhood, and he’d always assumed that Lei’s naïveté was the result of pampering and luxury, far from the suffering of the war. Now he tried to imagine a child among an army of warforged, going through their drills and preparing to be sent to the field. He rubbed his scar again, stood up and walked toward her.
“Lei.”
Silence.
“Lei, just listen.” Daine clenched his burned fist, hoping the pain would focus his thoughts. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I should know that you can handle yourself. After what we went through in the Mournlands, even the last few months … I know what you’re capable of.”
She continued to watch the water. She might have been a statue—or a warforged sentry, standing watch.
“It’s just … I feel …” He slammed a fist onto the rail in frustration. “Fine. It’s Jode.”
Lei looked over, green eyes wide. She said nothing, but the question was obvious.
Daine took a deep breath. “I let him go, Lei. I could have stopped him. Perhaps if I’d gone with him, things would have turned out differently, but even before that … I never pressed him, never forced him to learn to fight.” Each word was a weight on his tongue, each one heavier than the last.
Lei’s anger melted in the face of his despair. “He was a healer,” she murmured, “a dragonmark. He wasn’t a target on the battlefield …”
“I was his friend. I could have taught him what I know. I could have made him learn.”
“No one could make Jode do anything he didn’t want to do.”
“It’s not just Jode,” Daine said. “In my dreams—Jholeg, Krazhal, Jani, even thrice-damned Saerath. All dead.”
“All soldiers,” Lei reminded him. “Now you’re going to take responsibility for everyone who died in the war?”
Daine looked away. “People die in war. That’s unavoidable, but could I have done more? I can’t even remember what happened at Keldan Ridge. Did I lead them into disaster? Am I doing it again? I could have made you and Pierce stay in Sharn.”
“Oh, and Sharn is the safest place in Khorvaire? If it’s Sharn without you or Xen’drik with you, I’ll feel safer in Xen’drik.” She put her hand on his shoulder, and ran her finger along the tense muscles of his neck. “You can’t take responsibility for everything, Daine. We’re in this together.”
Now it was Daine who said nothing.
“Come,” Lei said, taking his arm and pulling him away from the rail. “Let’s go another round. Let me show you what I can really do. I think