avoiding one another? So many questions, and very few answers. Soldier was trying to make himself believe he did not care about his origins or his identity. He had made himself a life on this earth, and if there was another one, why, it could stew in its own juices. But such resolutions only worked part of the time. He was ashamed of the fact that he sometimes lied to Layana. His proclamation was that she was the only woman he loved: had ever loved. It was true that Soldier loved his wife with all his heart, but that other person, the one from the world he could not remember, had loved someone too. She, this unknown woman, was lodged in a remote corner of his being, still a powerful presence. There was only a hazy image which accompanied this feeling: auburn hair sweeping away from a flawlessly pale brow; a slim figure striding along the banks of a burn; hazel-green eyes that bore into his own. But there were mists and shimmering waves of light that distorted these images, took them away from him just as he was on the point of recognising them. And there was still more unidentified hate in his heart than was good for one man. Soldier had brought this hate, this rage, this bitterness with him from that other place. Sometimes it flowered, blood-red, when he was at his most passionate, in bed, in battle. Those who had seen him slaughter the Dog-man, Vau, knew of this vehemence, and were wary of it, not wishing to witness its blooming again. Some terrible wrong had been perpetrated on Soldier, in that other world, and there were those in this world who were paying for it. They were not innocent victims, but they were not guilty of the crime for which they were being punished. At such times Soldiers brain exploded into a red cloud of revenge, and when he came out of it he hardly remembered his own actions. Why cant I just be satisfied with this life, he muttered to himself, grabbing a handful of soil and throwing it into the wind. I have a wife, a position, respect all from nothing. I came here in rags and dented armour and now I am a captain, the husband of a princess, and famous throughout the region for my deeds. Im the mother of a dragon, the adopted father of a wizard the next King Magus no less and most men envy me. Why cant I just be happy with that, and let all those other thoughts go? They may be false anyway. Perhaps I was born here, some quirk of nature with blue eyes. He could not convince himself either way, and so knew he was bound to continue in that same tense netherworld which he alone occupied. Soldier tried to relax. He looked down on the scene below. It was a surprisingly fertile valley, extending into a plain, which lay beneath the far side of the escarpment. Not far away was a farmhouse. The farmer, a big man in the near distance, was at his plough. Two great farm horses followed his commands, as he turned a straight furrow. A thick, worn leather strap went over the right shoulder of the farmer and down under his left armpit, connecting him to his plough. In his left hand were the reins, in his right the plough handle. Soldier was impressed by the mans demeanour - his carriage and motion - and went down to speak. In some way he envied the man his peaceful occupation. Sir, he said, you handle that implement with great skill. The farmer paused in his work. Clearly Soldier had broken into some sort of reverie. The farmer had been rapt in thought in his peaceful world on the frontiers of nature, where mans carving of the worlds surface met the rawness of the wilderness. He lifted his hat and wiped his brow. Thank you, he said. I have been at it from a boy. It would be more surprising if I lacked the talent. The rich, brown furrows of the ploughed fields stretched out ahead of the two men as they both contemplated the work. The earth had been neatly combed. One or two white chalk rocks stood blindingly in the sunlight. A few scattered flints lay over all, glinting where the nodule had been broken to expose the
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