Restoration (56 page)

The accusation hung in the air like smoke on a windless night. It was left to Blaise to answer. “If Admet betrayed us at Syra, as Feyd claims—”

“Admet could never betray us to the Derzhi. The traitor was someone else. Someone who loves them, who thinks Derzhi pigs can be ‘honorable.' ” Gorrid glared at Aleksander. “This cursed godling Seyonne murdered Admet to hide the treachery, not to avenge it.”

“You may accept my word as I have given it to this company,” said the Prince in the quiet voice that was his most dangerous, “or you may challenge me as is the right of any man, but you will not impugn Seyonne's honor, nor use the incident to divide us. Whatever Seyonne did, he did with reason and justice. I will believe that until someone brings me clear evidence otherwise.” He beckoned Feyd closer to the fire and turned his back on Gorrid, as if daring the angry man to strike. “Come, Feyd, where is Seyonne? I need to talk to him, to tell him our plan.”

Go on. Say it as I told you, lad.
I pulled back behind the tent, leaned my head against the warm canvas, and listened.

“For the moment he chooses not to communicate with any human in the ordinary way, my lord. Even you should not expect it. But he says he will be with you and do whatever is needful.”

“I see.” A moment's pause and then I heard Aleksander pivot on his heel. “Well, we must take him at his word, then, no matter how or when he chooses to speak it. Seyonne will open the gate. Roche, Petra, Cawsho, and Denys will come with me.”

“May I be permitted to ride with you also, my lord?” said Feyd nervously. “I should be at the gate ... at Tanzire ... believe ... if you would allow me the honor.”

There was a brief silence. “I heard good reports of you from Syra and Taíne Horet. Your wound is not a problem?”

“It is well healed, Aveddi.”

“All right. Ride with me. I need to learn more of you, I think.” Good. Aleksander was putting the pieces together at least a little. I wanted to keep Feyd at Aleksander's side. There seemed to be no strict limit on the distance allowed between me and my dreamer; we just grew increasingly anxious the farther we stretched our bond. If I was going to concentrate on my business, I needed him close.

“Blaise, you'll see to the reserves, then?” Aleksander was still at work.

“We'll have five wait at the first break of the dunes in case you need help,” said Blaise. “Gar, Katya, Bertram, Yori, and myself. Farrol will lead the rest of the fighters straight to Gan Hyffir.”

“You? I thought that was settled.”

“I promised Linnie I'd go no farther than the dunes,” said Blaise, his unaccustomed grumbling attesting to the frustration of his injury. “One of us should be there, just in case someone needs to get away in a hurry. I can do that much at least.”

Departing footsteps and side conversations told me that the group was breaking up. Aleksander continued to review his plans and would do so until they rode out. Every man and woman would know exactly what was expected in the coming hours, and Aleksander would know exactly what to expect of them. He was a masterful commander. “Mistress Elinor, I trust you to implement your arrangements for the horses.”

“Mattei and Gerla have five extra horses fitted with weapons, water, and the clothing and banners you requested,” said Elinor.

“They should have arrived at Tanzire just after the gates closed at sunset, and will be camped outside the walls with the other latecomers. The gate guards are very strict about the closing. Gerla grew up in Tanzire and knows the town, if you should have further need of her. They'll be expecting you at first watch, ready to see to your mounts as you go inside. If you've nothing more for me tonight, I'm needed back in Zif‘Aker.”

“Of course. Thank you, Mistress. The boy is better?”

“Much better. It was just a childhood fever.”

Fever. Evan.
Say more.
My mother had died of fever, and other people I'd known in Ezzaria. Children. Were fevers not worse in children? But the stream of the night flowed onward.

“Gorrid!” The Prince called a little louder. “Perhaps you could accompany Mistress Elinor back to Zif‘Aker. Capable though the lady be, two pair of arms and eyes are safer, and we cannot afford to lose either of you. Unless there is anything else ... ? Safe riding to all. May all of our gods stand with us in this night's work.”

Shuffling footsteps approached my position—two men talking low. I ducked into Feyd's tent and awaited the young man's return, drawing darkness about myself in case Aleksander thought to poke his head in looking for me.
Are you satisfied, old man? I'm hiding from him.
Though perhaps it was as well we could not speak. I was confident in my decisions, but not yet ready to lay them out for scrutiny by those who could not possibly understand.

And Evan ... ill. I pictured him as I'd last seen him, standing wide-eyed in the firelit circle of old Yulai's camp ... running to safety in Elinor's arms. It was all I could do to refrain from following Elinor back to him.
It's not the time,
I told myself. Not
yet. Someday.
But if I were to be a Madonai ... what then ... ?

A large body bulled through the small tent opening. “Lord Seyonne!” The ‘whisper' was loud enough to wake a tree.

“Will you please lower your voice?
No one
is to know I'm here.”

“The Aveddi asked me privately of your whereabouts, just as you predicted. But I answered just as you told me. He didn't like it when I said you would accept no private messages from him. He was ready to walk away, but then he stopped and asked if you seemed ‘well' and 'easy.‘ I said that you seemed quite healthy and had no particular difficulty with any matter that I could see, if that was what he meant by 'easy.‘ My lord suggested that if you had made at least one bad joke in all your speaking, then such would signify that you were 'easy,‘ and he wouldn't worry so much about you. I thought for a moment, and then I described how you had said you threatened a number of times to haunt his dreams, but had decided that mine were 'less pompous and more artful.‘ I wasn't sure this was what the Aveddi meant, but he laughed most robustly and seemed satisfied. Is this permissible to report, sir? Since he was addressing me and not sending any message to you, I thought it would be acceptable to repeat it in your hearing.” Feyd's pale bulk filled the dark tent, along with the smell of his dried sweat and the scented oil he used to curl his hair and beard.

“Yes. It's all right.” Out of all expectation, wrapped up as I was in fear and mystery of such magnitude, I felt like laughing, too. But I had no wish to insult Feyd's zealous obedience.

“Thank you, Feyd. Thank you very much. But no more. As of now, my words are only for you, and I must hear only your own thoughts and observations in return. It is a condition of my presence.” I had agreed to speak only with my dreamer and had already stretched the meaning of my vow.

“Of course, my lord, I understand. Our holy god Gossopar went through many trials as he ascended to his power in Kalliapa Gran. He once had to remove every hair from his body with fire—even that in the most private of his nether parts—and stay smooth-shaven in that manner for a year. To be forbidden speech with one's comrades, even in time of battle, is perhaps less torment, especially if you have the hair of a Suzai!”

“Indeed,” I said, no longer able to withhold a smile at my dreamer's earnest comforting. “Though Ezzarians are notoriously sparse of hair, I would not welcome such a trial.”

However, I did not welcome this trial, either. Feyd excused himself from further conversation, as his custom was to offer prayers to his god as he arrayed himself for combat. And so I huddled in his tent and listened to the sounds of the outlaw band preparing for battle. Along with creaking leather and metallic echoes of blades and harness came the nervous laughter, the last reminders of position and tactics, quiet encouragement, the generous assurances of manhood and courage and faithfulness, shared solace over fallen comrades, all the human intercourse that was now forbidden me. A number of people passed along messages to be sent back to loved ones with Elinor, and I silently passed along my own.
For you, my son. If I can do this thing ... make the world whole and healthy for you ... Whatever is necessary to make it so, I will do.

Heavy footsteps paused just on the other side of the tent wall. “Your sister is right, you know,” said Aleksander quietly. “Stay out of action until you're fully healed. Believe me, I understand how it leaves your gut in a tangle to stay behind.”

“I've never had to send them into this kind of danger without me.”

“Despite my multitudes of faults, which were duly noted and gossiped about, the courtiers in Zhagad forever praised me as bold and brave because I insisted on riding out with my warriors on a mission. They didn't understand that I took the easier path. We've a long siege ahead, Blaise. You'll have more chances than you could ever want.”

“The gods ride with you this night, Lord Aleksander.”

“I wish I understood—Would you walk with me for a bit? I'd like to know a little more about a few of the men. This man Feyd, for one ...”

I could have shifted form and gone with them to eavesdrop further on their conversation. But even such a one-sided “entanglement” seemed a violation of the spirit of my agreement. A month or two, the Madonai had said, and then I could do as I wished. Until then, if the condition of my presence was isolation, so be it.

 

 

In the months since our escape, the powerful Rhyzka heged had gotten their wish and moved one of their lower-ranked lords into Gan Hyffir, the last holding of the Bek heged. The Bek first lord, taking a lesson from the dreadful punishment wreaked upon the Naddasine, had not protested directly to Edik, but rather withdrawn into Tanzire. From a small town house he had tried to maintain his dignity, his tenants, and his purse strings by continuing to manage the Gan Hyffir farms and find markets for their wheat. He had proclaimed loudly that his generous Emperor, though desiring a well-made fortress for his powerful Rhyzka allies, could surely not have meant for either a Derzhi noble or his loyal tenants to starve. But old Bek's restraint had not saved him. The first lord, his three sons, and one son-in-law had been scheduled for execution, their women strongly encouraged to take poison. The Bek warriors remained quartered at Gan Hyffir, but were stripped of their yellow-and-blue Bek scarves and conscripted directly into the Emperor's service under Rhyzka command. Aleksander planned to change all that.

When the Aveddi and his riders set out for Tanzire, I flew with them in falcon's form, high above them in the moonless night, so that Aleksander would not guess that I had been in his camp. I would abide by the agreement. Indeed, self-isolation had served me well when I was a slave. But detachment did not require me to insult my friends.

Blaise had us within sight of the walls of Tanzire a mere half hour after Aleksander's signal. I left the party then, and flew ahead to open the way.

Tanzire slept. Perhaps my new-learned skill with dreams was what told me that it did not sleep peacefully. Sovari's bones no longer hung from the ramparts, nor were there any visible remains of W‘Assani or Malver left upon the desolate land outside the walls, but I felt the three restless spirits close that night, and I had no doubt that Aleksander would feel them, also. “We will remember you with more than blood,” I said as I perched upon the very post where the faithful guard captain had been so grotesquely displayed. “But tonight blood will be paid.” I shifted to my true form, and, one by one, I settled silently behind each of the Rhyzka archers on the wall. I touched each man on the shoulder and let him turn and gape at my wings and golden light. Then I killed him, saying, “This for the faithful Sovari,” or “This for the noble Malver,” or “This for the glorious W'Assani.” When all was done, I touched earth and unbarred the gates that I had loosened from the sand so many months ago. Without benefit of cranks or gears or even the wind, I shoved them open just enough to let the raiders in.

Easy to see what had been planned for the lords of the Bek on the morrow. Across the wide expanse of the marketplace stood the ancient guard tower, and between the tower and the gates, five gibbets stood waiting. They occupied the very spot where W‘Assani's wagon had been abandoned, and where we had fought our way out of the city to meet crushing defeat when we thought our victory won. I would allow no repetition of that horror on this night.

Outside the walls was the motley sprawl that sprang up outside of any closed city. A few small fires marked the travelers' camp, and the quiet sounds of restless beasts and wakeful children hung in the still air. Two young merchants lounged by a muddy trough watering their string of horses.

The stars slogged relentlessly along their night's path. Seven horsemen rode out of the desert, slowly, as if tired from long journeying. They merged easily into the drowsy camp, and soon the slight wrinkle their arrival caused in the fabric of the night was smoothed again. Only from my vantage could one see the seven dark-clad strangers slip through the open gates a short time later. They looked up as they passed below me, of course, and I raised my hand in greeting, but did not go down to meet them.

I remained on the walls, making sure that no one came to close the gates, to replace the guard untimely in the mud-brick guard tower, or to bother the two young merchants who seemed to have acquired a few more beasts than they had brought to the watering trough. Only a suspicious eye would have remarked that the two had saddled the string of horses they'd told their fellow travelers were to be up at auction the next morning.