Path of Fate (40 page)

“What is it?” Kebonsat stood beside her, his breath warm on her cheek. He sounded tense, pushed to the edge. Ceriba’s going had been difficult for him. He was torn between protecting her and preventing the war, between the duties of a brother and the duties of a knight. The knight won out, but everything he was rebelled at rescuing his sister only to let her go without him into danger.

Reisil shook her head. “I don’t know. Something, I—”

She walked away, every sense straining in the darkness. Kebonsat followed, drawing his sword. Reisil headed up the hollow and found herself outside the hut. She circled around it, running her hand over the wall, coming around the corner and startling the chickens into a cackling fervor. She halted at the door.

“What’s going on?” Edelsat materialized out of the night, his own sword drawn, his voice low and tense. Kebonsat shook his head and pointed silently at Reisil, Saljane perching quietly on her shoulder.

She ignored them, drawn by something she couldn’t understand. It was as if something had taken over her body. Panic roared in her chest and she struggled against the geas on her limbs, to no avail. What demon had taken control of her? She could not even make her
ahalad-kaaslane
hear her.

She reached out to the door.

It resisted a moment; then she felt a tearing as the grass catch gave way. She stepped into the rectangle of dirty orange light. The woman sat up on her pallet and made a choked, frightened sound. Reisil wanted to comfort her, but couldn’t. Was the woman was right to be afraid? What was Reisil, or the thing controlling her, going to do here?

Kebonsat crowded up behind Reisil and peered past, ready to thrust her aside in case of danger.

A fire made of twisted grass smoked in the center of the dwelling. On either side of it two pallets lay. On one lay a man, staring sightlessly upward, while the woman huddled on the other, grasping two children close. They looked pale and sick, bones thrusting sharply beneath their skin.

But Reisil hardly saw them. Instead she went to stand over the man, who still didn’t move. One hand lay over the blankets on his chest; the other . . . The other was gone, as was his arm. There was a rushing sound in Reisil’s ears and the feeling beneath her skin increased to an unbearable pitch, as if swarms of insects wiggled and gnawed.

She knelt heavily, as if a hand on her shoulder pushed her down. She put her hands out, curved like claws. A sound tore through her constricted throat as she tried to pull back, but the compulsion was too strong.

The woman made a wrenching motion, then clutched her children closer.

“Don’t . . . Don’t hurt him! He ain’t done nothing to you. War’s over—go away!”

Reisil looked at her and the woman gasped. For the first time she saw the mark the Lady had set on Reisil’s face. It glowed, and the green of her eyes overflowed into the whites, filling her eyes from corner to corner.

Gold light dropped from her fingers, splashing on the man’s face and chest.

He moaned and wheezed, rocking in place. The woman made a keening sound and gave a shriek when Reisil’s hands flattened against her husband’s chest. The gold from Reisil’s hands ran over the man, covering him from head to toe until it wrapped him like a burial shroud. The pattern on her face streamed over her body until every inch of her skin was patterned with glowing, golden ivy. It didn’t stop there, but twined upward over Saljane. The bird mantled and gave a shrieking cry.

Then, like a blown candle, the light disappeared.

The woman sobbed piteously, and her children joined her.

Released suddenly, Reisil staggered to her feet and toward the door. Neither Kebonsat nor Edelsat moved, and she realized they couldn’t see her. Kebonsat felt her stirring in the air and brought his sword up.

“Reisil?”

“It’s me. Let’s go.”

Reisil pushed between the two men and stumbled out of the hut, gasping for breath. Her lungs felt seared. All of her strength was gone with the Lady. For she had no doubt now that the Blessed Amiya had possessed her. She retreated to the camp rolled up in her cloak, her mind reeling. Saljane nestled beside her, fierce amber eyes shining in the firelight. Edelsat and Kebonsat followed more slowly, as silent as Reisil.

Reisil fought the exhaustion that dragged at her. What had happened? Why had the Lady thrust Her hand into Reisil like a puppet?

~
We serve.

Saljane’s mindvoice carried with it a shrug. There was no accounting for the gods.

Comforted by her
ahalad-kaaslane
’s diffident acceptance, Reisil relaxed and fell asleep.

 

Edelsat roused the camp two hours before dawn.

“Make haste, lads,” he called out softly. “Time’s wasting.” He nudged Kebonsat and jerked his chin toward Reisil. Kebonsat nodded and went to kneel before her as she struggled upright, yawning widely. He watched as she combed out her hair and rebraided it.

“We’ve got to do something about Saljane. With her, you clearly stick out as
ahalad-kaaslane
. We won’t make it far once someone spots her.”

Reisil nodded, her brow furrowing. “She can’t fly—even if it weren’t dark, and she could stay aloft all day, I’ll need her with me.”

“You could settle her in your lap beneath your cloak,” Kebonsat suggested doubtfully. “Won’t be comfortable for her and it’s going to get hot. You’ll have to be careful not to let your cloak fall open. As it is, you’re going to get attention for being a woman. Dressed as you are, with that face—you’re going to be conspicuous. Patversemese women don’t go about in trousers, riding horseback with a troop of soldiers.” He paused, thinking. “We could take advantage of that. Put you on the wagon seat. Especially with your face, you’ll look like a—” He broke off, his cheeks flushing.

“A whore. Camp follower,” Reisil finished with a wry grimace. “Perfectly natural. All right. Let no one say my pride got in the way of stopping the war. Saljane can ride under the seat. Just make sure one of you claims me in case anyone asks.”

And ask they did.

With the gold ivy running teasingly from her face down into her tunic, tanned skin, jet hair and snapping green eyes, Reisil looked exotic and mysterious. The past weeks had given her body a lithe quality, as well as a sense of confidence, both of which translated into alluring boldness.

As they entered the sprawling perimeter of the Patverseme army, Edelsat’s men formed a protective wedge around the wagon. Otherwise they would have made little headway at all against the eager admirers who sought Reisil’s company, some waving pouches of silver, others singing songs and bragging of their physical prowess and stamina. Though some had wives or mistresses amongst the camp followers, most were lonely for companionship. Reisil never responded to their hails, merely smiling enigmatically. But if the interest didn’t affect her, the coarse attention infuriated Kebonsat and Edelsat, both of whom grew more and more wrathful.

“I’m fine,” Reisil soothed quietly as Kebonsat rode beside her, his face brick red. “They’re supposed to think I’m a whore. The plan is working.” She was more amused than anything else.

“They are unruly pigs. If they were mine, I’d stake them out for a day.” Reisil gave him a startled look, surprised at his vehemence. Then understanding hit her.

“These aren’t like the men who had Ceriba. Most of these are harmless. If I said no, I’d be all right.”

“It has nothing to do with my sister,” Kebonsat said in a contemptuous voice; then he jerked his horse away, spurring him to the front of the line. She stared after him, frowning. Soon he’d increased their pace so that Reisil’s would-be lovers were in danger of being run down if they tried to approach.

Traveling through the massive sprawl of soldiers, dogs, horses, camp followers, even families, was like wandering through a small city where the roads changed constantly with no landmarks to guide them. They had concluded that the command and royal tents would be somewhere near the Enclave Point along the Trieste River, but getting there was no easy task. They snaked through the bustling menagerie at what seemed to Reisil to be an ambling snail’s pace. The tension began to show as Edelsat’s men exchanged angry words with onlookers. It didn’t help that they’d removed any hint of their house connections to avoid detection. And it was good they had, for several times strangers stopped to study their passage with an intent air.

Several were wizards, Reisil realized, after Edelsat pointed out the three-pointed, twisted silver pins they wore on their collars. Kvepi Buris had worn such a pin. None were women. Reisil wondered if women were forbidden power in Patverseme, or if the magic never rooted in them. She hoped so. It made her less like the wizards.

“Won’t do any good if we’re too late,” Kebonsat observed to Edelsat in a frayed voice after they were forced to stop, trapped on either side by tents and campfires, while in front of them on a makeshift parade ground, a squad of men mustered. They ignored the travelers haughtily, while a young knight, wearing chain mail with a tabard of yellow and red and a fox head in blue over his heart, bawled orders. There was no turning around in the cramped space, and it might be hours before the arrogant young lordling was content to let them pass.

“I’m getting very tired of this.”

“We’ll lose any chance of secrecy,” Edelsat warned.

“And if we don’t get moving, we’ll still be nicely incognito when the war breaks out again. I’ll be damned if I let them get away with what they’ve done to my sister.”

“Ceriba will tell them.”

“If she made it. If they listen to her. But they stole her credibility when they kidnapped her. You know how they’ll treat a virtueless woman.” Kebonsat’s lips twisted and he spat. “On top of that, she’s in the company of
ahalad-kaaslane
, which won’t do much for her credibility with the Patverseme court.” Kebonsat shook his head. “I don’t think we can chance it.”

“No choice for it then,” Edelsat said, signaling his men. They dug in their packs and donned their wrinkled tabards, pulling muffling rags from their horses’ breast-plates and bridles.

“Guidon!” Edelsat shouted in a hearty voice. A redheaded man, younger than Reisil, detached himself from the formation. He fished a two-inch-wide band out of his hip pouch and worked it up over his right biceps, pulling it tight with his teeth. It bore a divided green-and-yellow background with the star and crossed-swords devices of Edelsat’s house. He stopped beside the wagon, giving Reisil a fleeting smile as he drew a pole from its moorings along the wagon’s side. He unrolled the attached standards. Edelsat had had Kebonsat’s added on top, showing an alliance of the two houses. The red-haired soldier seated the butt of the pole in the pocket of his stirrup designed for that purpose and urged his chestnut gelding out in front. In the meantime, Edelsat and Kebonsat had donned their tabards.

The guidon rode forward into the muster, flanked by two of Edelsat’s men. They halted in front of the young lordling, the standards flapping in the breeze. Reisil smiled as she saw the lordling look at the outriders’ coat of arms with an expression of disdain. When he glanced up at the standards, however, he blanched, casting a frightened look at Kebonsat, who merely stared, rubbing his thumb along his stubbled jaw.

Quickly the young lordling waved his men out of the way and their procession began again, this time much more quickly as word spread ahead like wildfire. Kebonsat’s journey to find his sister had not been kept as secret as it was supposed to be, and now onlookers looked vainly for signs of Ceriba.

Reisil wondered how many hoped he had found her, hoped the war could be averted. She wondered how many desired the opposite. She looked ahead, standing and shading her eyes to see how much farther they had to go.

Too far.

The wizard night swept over them like an ebony blizzard.

Reisil stiffened as pandemonium erupted. She heard screams and yells, horses neighing, dogs howling. Men and animals scrambled, sightless eyes wide with fright. A nearby tent caught fire, the people inside pulling it down into the flames of the cookfire.

The stench of burned canvas and food swelled in the suddenly still air; then flames swept to another tent and another. The wagon lurched as the team of horses reared and lunged.

Reisil fell sideways, scrabbling at the sides for balance. Seeing the ground rushing up at her, she tucked and rolled. She sat up, rubbing her shoulder with a grimace. It wasn’t broken, and neither was her head.

She looked around. Chaos reigned.

“
T
orches! Torches!” Kebonsat bellowed, and Edel‘sat’s men responded by lighting those they carried, but still they could see barely a foot before them. The horses could see not at all and shuddered all over, neighing their fright. The driver of the wagon had wrestled his terrified team to a halt, but sat as if frozen, hands clenched on the reins, all senses alert, waiting.

Reisil approached, thanking the Blessed Lady that Edelsat’s men had not panicked.

“Dashlor—it’s me.”

The thick-chested soldier started, head swiveling back and forth.

“Healer?” he whispered.

“Give me a second.” Reisil grabbed one of the torches that she’d put in the footbox of the wagon and struck her flint to it. In a few moments the pitchsoaked end flared and she touched another to it. She handed it to Dashlor. He did not see it until it was well within arm’s reach. The relief on his sweating face was palpable.

“Stay here. I’m going to get Kebonsat and Edelsat,” she said.

~
Come with me, Saljane. There’s no use hiding anymore.

She reached down and freed her
ahalad-kaaslane
. Saljane flexed her talons convulsively on Reisil’s shoulder. Even with the gauntlet’s padding, Reisil winced.

~
Use my eyes.

She felt Saljane explode into her mind, though the disconcerting doubling effect she’d come to expect when she went into Saljane’s mind wasn’t there.