There was no point in waiting. The task was onerous; the journey afterward would be grueling. Trudging across the desert toward the encampment, he drew his sword. It glinted dully in the sun, a length of black steel laying a black bar of shadow on the desert floor. Where would he go if he disobeyed Satoris’ orders? What would he do? He was General Tanaros Blacksword, one of the Three, and he had made his choice a long, long time ago.

Speros sprang alert at his approach, whistling for the attention of the Gulnagel. “Lord General! What was that happened just now? Is it time to—” He stopped, eyeing the drawn sword. “What are you doing?”

“They know.” Tanaros gestured wearily at the Yarru, who had gathered in a circle. Old men and old women, linked by age-knotted hands clasped tight together. There were tears in the creases of Warabi’s dark cheeks as she clung to Ngurra’s hand.

“You mean to kill them all?” Speros swallowed, turning pale. “Ah, but Lord General, they’re harmless. They’re—”

“—old,” Tanaros finished for him. “I know.” He rubbed his brow with his free hand. “Listen, lads. Beshtanag has fallen, and Lord Satoris has closed the Ways. We’re going home the hard way. But we’ve got business to attend to here first. We’re going to bury that cursed well, that no one else may find it. And … he drew a deep breath, pointing his sword at the Yarru, “ … we leave no survivors to tell of it.”

With stoic shrugs, the Gulnagel took up positions around the ring of Yarru elders, who shrank closer together, murmuring in their tongue. Ngurra gently freed his hand from his wife’s and stepped forward. There was fear in his face; and courage, too.

“Slayer,” he said. “You do not have to choose this.”

“Give me a reason, Ngurra.” Rage and bleak despair stirred in Tanaros’ heart, and he tightened his grip on his sword-hilt, raising it with both hands to strike. “Give me a reason! Tell me you’re wrong, tell me you’re sorry, tell me the Bearer made a bad choice! Send a delegation to bring him back! Can you do that, old man? Is that so much to ask? I didn’t ask for this choice! Give me a reason not to make it!”

The Yarru elder shook his head, profound regret in his eyes. “I can give you only the choice, Slayer,” he said sadly. “Choose.”

“So be it,” Tanaros whispered. Sick at heart, he swung the blade.