But she must soon speak and tell the others what she’d learned. Seeking assurance, Reisil clasped her pendant. Sodur bent forward.
“May I see that again?”
Reisil opened her hand and held it out to the length of the ribbon around her neck. Sodur stared at it, then nodded, giving Reisil a wondering glance.
“Do you know what you hold there?”
“It belonged to Talis. The Lady told me.”
“Aye, Talis first, then Galt two centuries later. It’s like seeing the past come alive. Wherever did you get it?”
“It was a gift,” Reisil said cryptically, unwilling to say any more, though not certain what made her reticent. How had Nurema come by it?
“Indeed. It could not come to you another way.”
“What do you know of it?”
“The Blessed Lady chose Talis—a tark he was! Well, now, how did I forget that?” He scratched his newly shaven jaw and then shrugged. “Anyway, the histories of the time are rather muddled, but legend has it that the lands of Kodu Riik, Patverseme, Scallas and Guelt were all of a piece then. That was long before those we know as Scallacians invaded. The lands were ruled by warlords who were constantly fighting over their little territories, sending the yeomanry into endless battles and leaving the women to work the fields and their babes to grow up without fathers. Sons marched off to war as soon as the first fuzz marked their chins, returning home now and again for a visit and a tumble in a lonely woman’s bed before marching off again. Most died before they had twenty-five summers under their belts. Talis served one such warlord. He patched up the boys and sent them back out to hack pieces off one another. The lands grew wild and populations dwindled. Illness and starvation swept through farms and villages and the Lady grew angry, seeing the destruction.
“At that time, most of the gods weren’t too interested in humanity except for sport. But the Lady saw great potential in us and offered Her Light to those who would obey Her laws.
“So she sent Kolvrane, a falcon, to Talis. She told him to gather all the people he could and bring them to what was to become Kodu Riik. If they followed him, if they put their faith in Her, then She would give them the
ahalad-kaaslane
and guard them from harm, expelling the warlords from Her borders. As a further mark of Her favor, she gave Talis that pendant, Her talisman. With it and Kolvrane, Talis marched across the lands spreading Her words, and many people followed. Soldiers deserted their warlords, mothers dropped their hoes in the fields, children fled in the night. They escaped to Kodu Riik and the salvation the Lady offered. They say that though not one refugee came with more than the clothes on his back, no one starved and no one died in the exodus. The Lady provided for all.
“Eventually the warlords banded together and sought to retake the land of Kodu Riik. But they were repelled. There are legends of Talis calling down fire from the heavens, of his curdling the earth so that no one might cross. . . .” Sodur paused, stroking Lume with a smile. “Some have argued that the eastern crescent of Kodu Riik, with its fens, quicksand and swamps, happened when the warlords sought to land ships. They say that if you dare go into them a little distance, you can find bits of armor and bones from the warlords trapped by Talis’s magic.” Sodur shrugged. “I am no scholar, and have only a fitful memory for the tales. If you want to know more, you must needs ask someone else. In Koduteel there are scholars who delight in keeping track of such things. They would know more than I.”
“You think the pendant gave Talis such powers?” Reisil asked.
“Who knows?” Sodur spread his hands. “You will find out soon enough, I think.”
“That was before the lands divided into countries. Perhaps this Talis had wizard blood in him,” Kebonsat offered.
Sodur shrugged and Reisil remembered that wizard magic didn’t work in the Lady’s demesnes. Mostly.
“What else can you tell me about it?” she asked, shifting the topic back to the talisman.
“That I know of, there are no stories of lightning about Galt, though some legends say he could walk through fire. His
ahalad-kaaslane
was a lava-lizard. Oh, yes, such creatures do indeed exist. It glowed ruby-bright, like lava itself, and it could start fires with its breath. The stories go that Galt was an explorer, traveling far and wide, returning with treasures of rare metals and jewels, wonderful artifacts from faraway places no one had ever heard of. Then one day he returned from one of his adventures with both the talisman and the lava-lizard.
“Galt’s return was timely. Hordes of krakmurs had burrowed through the Melhyhir Mountains and began to nest in the highlands. Rotten little creatures—no taller than three or four feet, but with powerful shoulders and legs, and great shoveling hands tipped with fierce claws. They ate whatever meat they could find, including people. Especially people. Galt knew them from his travels and organized an attack. It was a dreadful battle, with many losses. There were so many of the krakmurs—endless numbers, it seemed—and they carried with them pestilence. Eventually Galt prevailed and the krakmur burrows were sealed. But you still hear stories of krakmurs attacking farms and villages.”
“The Blessed Lady said he was also a tark,” Reisil said.
“Very well might have been.” Sodur smile ruefully. “I have been taught much as an
ahalad-kaaslane
. But I must admit to being an indifferent scholar. The old stories never appealed to me, and I don’t remember as much as I ought to. Upsakes—” He broke off, looking at Upsakes’s prone body. His fingers curled in Lume’s fur. “Some of us learned better. When you go to Koduteel, you may find more answers.”
“Answers. That brings us back to me. I have something to tell you. I’ve told Kebonsat some—I felt I could trust him and I didn’t know about anyone else. The Lady told me more.”
And with that Reisil plunged in, telling Sodur and Juhrnus of what she’d seen through Saljane’s eyes, of Kaval and his companions. She then told them of Upsakes’s lies, that he’d influenced the herald to say Iisand Samir had threatened Kallas, that it had been a lie to muster hatred for the Dure Vadonis.
“I wondered as much,” Sodur muttered, his head caught between his hands as he stared at the ground. “Yesterday. You asked why Iisand Samir would threaten his own people and I remembered that the herald who brought the news was a good friend of Upsakes’s. I did not believe he could do this, kidnap this young woman and push us back into the war. I did not want to believe it.” He looked at Kebonsat. “I swear to you on the Lady’s name that we will find your sister. After the war, after Mysane Kosk, I have no great love for the Patversemese, but this treaty is good for Kodu Riik. It is good for both countries. And this conspiracy is naught but evil, serving only the Demonlord.”
“Thank you for that,” Kebonsat said soberly, his face drawn lean and hard.
Ordinarily Reisil would not have been able to see him clearly. But her wizard-sight cut through the shadows and she saw the strain molding his lips into a knife slash, saw the dreadful dying hope in his eyes. He kept up a good front during the day, but now he was beginning to understand the extent of the conspiracy. This had been well planned and executed. What chance did Ceriba have against such plotting?
Reisil pondered out loud. “Kaval was gone for weeks—how could he have been involved? I saw his reaction when he learned of the treaty. He was dumbfounded.”
“Must have been Rikutud,” Juhrnus said. “Kaval would never have done anything without his father’s permission. Tied to him like a girl on her mother’s apron strings, that one. Rikutud has to be in this up to his neck.”
Sodur looked at Juhrnus, bushy eyebrows drawn low, his thin face stern. “A good observation, my young
ahalad-kaaslane
. You know Kaval well, do you?” The suspicion was evident in his voice and a warning rang in Reisil’s head. The
ahalad-kaaslane
were in danger of imploding. They must trust one another, yet with Upsakes’s betrayal, could there not be others plotting against the Lady’s wishes? Would they now turn on one another, destroying the trust that bound them together?
“No. If you must travel that road, then you should know that Kaval and I shared a bed. Another bad choice I’ve made.” Reisil looked steadily at Sodur. Before he could respond, Juhrnus intervened, stunning her.
“You’re not all to blame for that. Kaval liked to play the hero, and if I hadn’t picked on you so much, maybe you would have seen through him.” He dropped his eyes.
Sodur rubbed his hands over his face in a tired gesture.
“My apologies. I also can’t help thinking I should have known about Upsakes. How can I blame either of you for not knowing about Kaval?”
“The Lady would not want us to fail because we lost faith with one another,” Reisil said. “It is true that I don’t like Juhrnus, and that he does not like me. But we will work together because we are chosen. Is that not so?”
Reisil turned to Juhrnus. A flush had crept up his neck to his cheeks and he looked feverish.
“That is so. I serve the Blessed Lady. She has given me Esper—twice now. And I know She wants peace between Kodu Riik and Patverseme. I will do whatever necessary to make that happen. Both of us will.” He clutched Esper closer.
“Good. Then we should sleep, and in the morning Saljane shall search for Ceriba. There is just one more thing I must tell you, though I would not have it go any farther than this fire.”
The others looked at her warily and Reisil grinned. “We are not to be so suspicious of one another, remember?” she chided gently. “It is just this. The Lady gave me another gift, there at the end. She gave me wizard-sight. I tell you this now because I believe She has foreseen another attack like that in the forest.”
“I would agree,” Sodur said, nodding.
“Then we must do all we can to prepare. When I was lost, I did not try a torch—I couldn’t find anything to burn, even if I could find my flint. Did anyone try?”
“They cast a small light. We were able to see perhaps a foot in front of us,” Sodur answered.
“It was better than being totally blind,” Juhrnus said.
“Esper sees well in the dark but could see nothing in that foul blackness. With the torch, he saw several yards.”
“Then we must prepare torches and each of us carry them,” Kebonsat declared. “Keep your flints near to hand as well. They may save us, or prevent our being trapped. We’ll at least make ourselves difficult prey.” He looked at Reisil. “A precious gift indeed. May it serve us well.” He stood and stretched, readying himself for the first watch. “What about him?” Kebonsat jerked his chin at Upsakes. “What do we do with him?”
“Nothing,” Sodur said, his voice pitiless and barren as a desert waste. “The Blessed Lady serves Her own justice on the
ahalad-kaaslane
. We will leave him to Her.”
The next morning they cut branches and wrapped the ends in rags. Then they packed up and departed, returning to the village to purchase pine pitch for the torches and rid themselves of the extra mounts before pursuing Ceriba’s trail. The tavernkeeper had told Sodur that the party had passed through days before.
They left Upsakes without a word or glance. Reisil shuddered at the thought of what the Lady might have in store for him.
Saljane winged her way aloft in triumphant delight She circled overhead and then arrowed away, her body strong as ever, thanks to the Lady’s healing touch.
Reisil rode her sorrel mare comfortably, missing the dun gelding. She had come to think of him more as a companion than beast of burden, and regretted the necessity of exchanging him for a fresh mount.
As she rode, Reisil felt her spirit swell with a sense of strength and purpose she had never felt before. It ran through her bones like iron and she wanted to laugh out loud with the power of it. Even the hardships of travel ceased to bother her as much. She no longer dreamed of her cozy cottage and soft bed, her copper bathtub with steaming water, her garden and fruit trees. She missed them, but she no longer desired them with the ferocious want of a winter-starved fox. Instead, she enjoyed the freedom of the open air, the spectacular mountain vistas, the new skills she was learning in the wild. At their stops, she harvested medicinal plants, delighting in the opportunity to discover them herself, rather than purchasing them from a trader. She imagined visiting Odiltark and Elutark, bringing them the bounty of her travels. The daydream made her smile.
Three days passed before Saljane entered Reisil’s mind with a clarion call.
~
She is here! I have found her.
~
Show me.
Reisil pulled her horse to a stop and gripped her saddle. Flying with Saljane continued to be a wrenching experience. The heights continued to chill her blood, and when caught up in Saljane’s mind, she had no capacity to do anything but close her eyes and sit still. She no longer felt as embarrassed by this fact and had quit hiding it from her companions. There was no time for foolish pride in this hunt. Though Juhrnus had made a few mocking remarks, which Reisil had expected and ignored, Sodur and Kebonsat had accepted her weakness with no comment. Now she counted on them to manage her horse when she could not.