Exile's Gate (17 page)

'Tell Bron I am here. Bring him. Tell him he will know if I am still his brother. Tell him that!"

A long time passed. He told
himself that it had been a test. He had failed it. At any moment the
one in front of him would give the order and the blade would slit the
vein—or worse, they would take him with them, and ask him questions
alone—

There was a chance, O God,
a chance: if Bron had lain alive on Gyllin's bank, if Arunden's men had
heard the rumor and had been able to reach that place before the night
and the scavengers—

If only once, if he died for it, he could see his brother again—

"Let him go," the voice said.

Vanye had both hands on his
own sword, across the saddlebow, as he heard the stir of a rider in the
forest. Arrhan shifted nervously, and Siptah stamped once and worked at
the bit.

Then one rider in unbelted
mail came out into the starlight and down the slope at an easy pace.
Two others followed, shadowlike, at either side and behind him.

Chei reached the flat and
stopped face to face with them, then carefully got down from his horse
and left it to stand while the others waited at his back.

It was to Vanye's side he
walked, leftward, away from Morgaine, and it occurred to Vanye it might
be attack, some means to take him down and leave Morgaine's back
undefended: there was the harness-knife, for one; and Heaven knew with
what Chei was armed now.

But he saw nothing in
Chei's hands—Chei held them both outward from him in the starlight, and
when Chei came up at Arrhan's shoulder and laid a hand on his stirrup:

"They have agreed to talk."
Chei said in a low voice. "They want you to come. There are others in
the woods. There are arrows aimed at us. Likely they will aim for the
horses if we try to run." Strong emotion trembled in his voice. "They
say my brother is alive. I do not know. It might be true. If it is—if
it is, then he might convince them—whether to listen to me."

That they were surrounded
was credible. The rest of it ... Heaven knew. He was sure that Morgaine
heard what Chei was saying: her ears were sharper than anyone's he
knew, and likeliest she heard whatever was in the brush as well. She
said nothing, and a sense of panic came over him—man and man, she had
said, Man and Man, trusting his instincts to deal with this
many-turning youth.

"I beg you," Chei said, and
caught at his hand where it rested on his leg, gripping it hard. "I beg
you. I am not sure of these trails, enough to run the horses here. It
is a tangle ahead, rock and root. The stream leads to a falls and there
is no way out. But if we go with them, there is the chance they will
listen, and it will likely be closer to the road anyway. These men
belong to Arunden ep Corys, and if they are not lying, my brother will
know whether or not to believe me. Come with them. If things go wrong I
will fight
with
you, I swear it under Heaven."

"And your brother? What of him?"

"I want his life. His. That
is all I ask. And you have me. Heart and mind—I swear it, only so you
save him and take no life you can spare. Listen to me: this is the last
place free Men hold. It is the land I am fighting for, it is the land,
and your lady says she has hope for us—but if becomes a war of fire,
Gault and the lady—for God's own sake, Vanye—listen to me and come with
me and take them for allies. They will not ask you give up your
weapons. They are not unreasonable men. And when we reach their camp my
brother will stand with us. I know that he will."

"As you knew the way across the plains? And the woods? As you led us here?"

Chei's hand was cold on
his, cold and strong. "In the name of God, Vanye. I am your friend. You
have been mine. I never betrayed you. I only wanted to live to get
here; and we are here—and I am begging you—take what I give you. I have
lied, I admit it. But not of malice—only of too much hope. And now I
swear to you I am not lying. I have brought you where there was hope of
getting through, and now that has failed us—there is this, and it is
the best one, the best I could have hoped for—"

"All your hopes diminish, friend. And this one if it goes amiss, has your people's blood on it."

"There is nothing else," Morgaine said beside him, and in the Kurshin tongue, "that we can do, but see where this leads."

His advice, he thought, had
brought them to this—as much as Chei's. "Aye," he said heavily. And to
Chei: "My lady agrees; we will go."

Chei's hand clenched on
his, desperately hard. Gratitude shone in his eyes, starlight aglimmer
on tears unshed. "I swear," Chei said. "I swear to you—I am with you in
this. I will not betray you. Not for my life. I know what you can do.
Take me first if I betray you."

Vanye felt an unaccustomed,
half embarrassed impulse, let his fingers twitch, then clench in human
comfort as he looked into Chei's shadowed face.

"My brother will help us," Chei said. "I swear that too. And you will not harm him."

"We will harm no one who does not threaten us."

"And your lady—"

'Take Vanye's word," Morgaine said. "He does not know how to lie. And in this I take his advice."

The way lay up the bank,
into the forest by trails only Chei and the shadowy horsemen knew; and
it was well enough certain that there were other watchers about, on
foot and ahorse on trails following and crossing theirs.

It was like the arrhend,
Vanye thought; or the men of Koris, of his own land. One did not hope
to take such a land cheaply, in lives or in time—except an enemy did
the unthinkable; except it was not the land or the wealth of the woods
a conqueror valued, and he was willing to use fire.

We ought not, he kept
thinking with every stride of the horses, every whisper of the leaves,
we ought not, we ought not to have brought the fire.

There was that in him which
ached, thinking of it, as greenwood and the forest damp took the stench
of smoke away—as more and more the land was like coming to his own home
again, even to the smell of the trees.

O my liege, I might have
stopped you from setting the fire. Why did not I speak? I am a Man. And
this is a human place. Did it not occur to me?

Or am I become something else?

The trails made a maze, a
narrow track down one hill and up another through one and another
little dell completely unremarkable in the dark.

Chei went foremost behind
their first guide. Morgaine rode at Chei's back and Vanye at hers, with
the second of their mounted guides going hindmost; and at times in the
shadow of the thicket there was only the sound of the horses and the
creak of harness and jingle of chain; and at most the pale flash of
Siptah's pale rump and white-tipped tail to keep him aware which way
they were turning, each horse following the other.

To such a land Arrhan had
been foaled, and there was a lightness in her step and an alertness to
her busy ears as if she were reading signals no human ear heard. She
was not alarmed, not yet; but by the prick of her ears and the set of
her head she advised where her apprehensions were and where some sound
went which he did not hear.

There is no way out of
this, he kept thinking, the further and the deeper they went. Whether
Chei is witting of it or no, it is a trap, this narrow passage.

Heaven help us. The last
hold of free Men. Chei has lied to us; and fair enough for that:
Morgaine has lied to him in turn—and we are all in the web, they and we
alike.

No more deaths. No more children. Mother of God, no more mistakes, and no more blood. I dream of them.

At last Morgaine stopped;
for ahead of her Chei and their guide had paused. Arrhan came up with
her head against Siptah's flank and crowded closer still as the big
gray threw his head and snorted warning.

"It is soon," their forester guide said. "Be patient."

It was, Vanye reckoned, a
boundary of a sort, and they were about to cross it: someone ran ahead
to tell others what came visiting.

There was silence after.
There were only forest sounds and the slow, fretful shifting of the
horses. Morgaine did not question. Chei did not say anything, nor had
he spoken since they began this ride. Their guides volunteered no word
beyond that simple directive.

Somewhere a nightbird cried.

"Come," their guide said
then, and turned his horse sedately and went ahead at the same
deliberate walk he had used for some little time. So Chei went and so
Morgaine; and himself and the last man, as the trail followed the
shoulder of a wooded hill and climbed again, up among tall trees and
down once again, onto the other side of the hill.

For the first time, on that
breath of wind, Vanye picked up the scents of smoke and habitation. No
lights showed as they came down, first into thinner trees and then
among brushy lumps—huts which seemed more like thickets than
dwellings—but nature never grew them, Vanye thought, as they rode
sedately down the steep slope and past one such that was high as horse
and rider together, a rounded shape against the straight trunks of the
trees.

Not a stirring hereabouts.
Not a breath of a voice, no gleam of fire. From a pen, withdrawn among
the trees, came stable-smell and a restless shifting of horses, as they
rode out into the clear midst of this low place.

Then their guide dismounted. "Get down," he said.

"Best we do that," Chei said, and slid down.

Well indeed, if there were archers in question. Morgaine got down from the saddle, with
Changeling
hung at her side, and Vanye did, at the same time as Chei did; and dropped the reins to let the horses stand.

Then came a little movement, and more than one shadow gliding out from among the trees and the huts.

One came and crouched on
the ground in the starlight in the midst of the large clearing at the
center of the huts, and poked round in a familiar way with a stick,
after which coals came to a sullen glow, and a slight gleam showed: the
man then piled on tinder and wood. So the village folk had taken
precautions and now felt encouraged enough that the one man squatted
there with the firelight leaping up brighter and brighter on his
heavy-jowled face.

"My lord Arunden—" Chei
said in a plaintive way, and walked forward a pace or two; and stop as
the man at the fire looked up at them with an underlit scowl.

The man called Arunden
stood up, and drew the short sword that hung at his belt. The fire
limned them both, Chei all dark, fire glancing on the edges of his
mail; the older man all light, shadow about his features and his
leather and furs and braids.

"Strange guests," Arunden
said, and the voice matched the face, heavy and rough. "Stranger still
that you bring them here. What does Gault want?"

"Is my brother truly alive, my lord?"

"Answer."

"Gault wants our lives, theirs and mine, my lord. I am human. So is the man. The lady is qhal, but she is no friend of Gault's."

"The land is burning, below. What do we do for this? How did this happen?"

Chei had no quick reply for that.

"It happened," Morgaine
said, drawing a startled look from the man, and walked forward to
stand, gray-cloaked and hooded figure with arms folded, the
dragon-sword out of sight, riding at her hip, and Heaven knew where her
other weapon was, but Vanye well guessed as he moved to take his place
at her left shoulder. "The qhal of your land have no courtesy,"
Morgaine said to the lord, "and I have found more with this young
human. So I have come to you. As for the burning—a matter of war, my
lord, else worse would be at your borders."

There was stark silence
from lord Arunden . . . stark silence too from the shadowy figures
which appeared among the trees behind him. Vanye's heart began to pound
in dread, his mind to sort rapidly what he could see of those about
them, mapping which way they should go—what their path of escape should
be, where cover was.

There would be, Chei had assured them, archers.

"Who are you," Arunden asked sharply, "riding here with your minions? What are you, Gault's jilted doxy?"

That was the limit. Vanye
slipped the ring. The weight of the sword hit his hip as Morgaine
lifted one empty, white hand, forestalling him without even looking to
see what his move had been, and let back her hood, spilling her pale
hair free to the light.

"No," she said softly, "I am not. Would you guess again, my lord Arunden?"

"My lady," Chei said, stepping between. "My lord—"

"Is she here to make threats?" Arunden asked. "Or to spy out the hills, with you for her guide?"

Morgaine glanced Chei's way with chill disdain. "You vowed this was a reasonable man."

"I am no fool!" Arunden shouted, and stamped his stick into the coals, so that coals scattered and sparks flew up.

"I am out of patience," Morgaine said to Chei, and turned aside.

"Stay," Chei said. "Wait—my lord Arunden. Do not make a mistake."

"I make no mistake. It is
your
mistake—"