Strat ignored the Hazard and watched Ischade still. "Is it my fault?" he askedsimply. "Some consequence of lying with you against all that's natural?"
"No more than Janni's fate, or Stilcho's, can be laid at any other's feet. Menmake their own fates-it's personal, not a matter for debate." She reached up,taking a chance, touching his lips gone white as the big Stepson struggled forcontrol, his hand upon his sword hilt. He might well try to kill her there andthen, to exorcise his guilt and pain.
Then what would she do? Hurt this one, in whose arms she could be a woman, not aPower too fearful to survive for any other man? Never. Or not unless he forcedit.
Her touch on his lips didn't cause him to toss his head or step away. He said,"Ischade, this is more than I bargained for ..."
"It's more, Strat, than any of us bargained for." Her hand slipped from hislips, down his neck, across the sloping shoulder to rest on his powerful rightarm-in a moment she could numb it, if there was need. "It's your god, warringagainst the Ilsig gods and the Beysib gods-if they have them-turning men's headsand hearts. Not us. We're as close to innocent as your sword, which would assoon stay in its scabbard. Trust me. We all knew there'd be hell to pay, shouldthis day come."
Strat nodded slowly: Ersatz Stepsons had rousted real ones in the town, and evendared to confront the black-souled 3rd Commando rangers. And Zip's indigenousfighters had reason to hate all oppressors-the PFLS would as soon have made thegutters run with blood up to Zip's knees.
"So now what?" said the big man, distress naked in his tone.
The necromant looked up, reached up again, craned her neck so that her hood fell