The Lesser Kindred

X The Price of Belts and Bright Days

I learned that evening why Lanen had been so ill. Rella met me on the stair as I was returning from my bath.

"Varien, there's been a Healer in to see Lanen," she said, stopping one step above me. We each carried candles and the flickering shadows were disconcerting. I could hardly see her face, but her voice was grave. "She's a little better but she's not well."Rella's concern seemed greater now than before we had entered the city. "Was the Healer not able to aid her?" I asked. "I have seen Gedri healers bring Lanen back from the brink of death. What did the Healer say? What afflicts her so?"

Rella held the candle away from her face. "Go to her, Varien. She needs you."

I stood back to allow her to pass on her way down the stair. I climbed slowly, breathing in long deep breaths, taking myself through the first stages of the Discipline of Calmmat was so helpful in controlling the fierce passions of the Kantri. I did manage to slow the rapid beating of my heart.

I opened the door to our room slowly, lest she should be sleeping.

I have tried to forget that moment, but I cannot. It is an odd trait—both Kantri and Gedri remember events in much the same way, but I find there is a curious effect when the heart is most deeply involved. The strangest visions choose to stamp themselves on the memory.

The long side of the bed faced the door with its head against the right-hand wall, and the single candle by the bedside shone on Lanen's gleaming hair, for her face was turned away from me, her knees drawn up to her chest and her arms around them. I thought she was gazing out the small window directly opposite the door.

"Lanen," I said softly, as I put the candleholder on the shelf by the door. She did not move.

"Lanen?" I called again. She did not respond as I closed the door, and I knew could not approach her. I was beginning to learn the Attitudes of the Gedri, and Lanen's especially. There is a set in the shoulders, a something in the tension of the back even under her shift, that speaks as loudly as words and warns off even a husband from a too-swift approach. I "listened" for her mindvoice and heard nothing.

I addressed her in traespeech, for my heart's fears threatened to break through the fragile calm I had imposed on them. "Dearling, forgive me, but I fear for you. Rella told me a Healer had been to see you but that you are not yet well."

I listened in the dark and the quiet and heard only the faintest response. As though from a great distance I heard her calling in traespeech, longing, desperate, lost.

"Akor! Akor! Help me—oh sweet Lady, help me—"

I had her in my arms all in a moment, comforting her with mind and voice and holding her tight to me. "Lanen my heart, I am here, I am here," I repeated. Senseless, I know, she knew perfectly well that I was there, but it seemed to be the right thing to say. She held on to my arms with all her strength and I did not hear her breathe for the longest time, when suddenly between one breath and another she shook me off and stood up. She began to pace the room, her arms crossed before her, her bare feet shaking the floor as she stamped her anger on the boards. She was breathing as though she had run a race.

"Akor—the Healer said—I can't—"

She stopped pacing and stared at me, holding her arms tight round her chest, shaking. "Akor, I'm pregnant. And the Healer said—the Healer said it's killing me. That's what's been wrong with me, why I can't hold down food, why I've been so tired and swollen and had a headache for so long."

I felt the world's fool, but I could not help it. "Forgive me, dearling, I know not that word. What means 'pregnant'?"

"I am carrying our child," she said quietly.

I was very glad that I was sitting down, else I would have fallen. "What, already?" I said stupidly.

"Yes, already," said Lanen, annoyed. "How long did you think it would take? We've been lovers for nearly four moons!" She cracked a little at that and managed a small smile. "And making good use of the time, as well."

"Dearling, you have taught me much, but of the getting of younglings in this body I know nothing. It takes us years to conceive, and the younglings grow for the best part of two full years before they are born."

"Oh Hells, Varien, I'm sorry. I forgot you really don't know," she said, coming slowly to where I sat. "We can conceive after just one encounter, and we give birth nine moons later."

"Nine moons!" I cried.

"If all goes well. And it isn't." She stood again and wrapped her arms about her. "Varien—the Healer said I was warring within myself, that—that it would be better if I could lose the child. And she said"—Lanen started pacing again, striving to speak past the tightness in her throat—"she said it would be as well, that my body knew what it was doing, that it was"—her throat closed again, but she managed to speak through it, her voice rough—"in case it wasn't—in case it was so ill-made it wouldn't live anyway."

That was it, that was the terrible thing past. I sprang up and caught her as her strength left her at last. She wept for a moment in my arms, allowing me to see her weakness as I held her to me. In Lanen that was an intimacy as deep and vulnerable as physical nakedness.

I lifted her tenderly in my arms and laid her gently on the bed, and she sat up against the pillows. I laid the blankets over her bare legs and sat down beside her.

"Lanen, kadreshi, your pain is mine," I said, stroking her hair, surprised at how tight my own throat was, "for this child you carry is mine as well as yours." I gazed deep into her eyes. "Dear one, if me Healer is right, what must we do?"

"No!" she cried. "No, I don't believe her! She tried to get rid of it without telling me, in any case, and couldn't." She sighed and put a hand on her belly. "I'm glad she couldn't. She doesn't know about you. Of course it is difficult for the babe." She laughed, harsh laughter through her anger, and said as quietly as she could, "Name of the Winds, Akor, it's got half a Dragon for a father, of course it's going to have a hard time being born."

"Could it be as simple as that?" I asked, stunned. "But surely if I have the form of a child of the Gedri, I am of the substance of the Gedri as well!"

"Are you so certain?" she replied. "You stopped that sword with your arm the night the bam burned, and you were only cut."

"A cut to the bone, and it still aches," I said.

"Akor, if you were a normal man you would now be one-armed if you were alive at all. I saw that bastard, he was huge. And don't forget what you did to the pell—I find it hard to believe that a man of your build could be so strong."

"What has build to do with it?" I asked, confused. "This form I was gifted with is light but very strong, muscle and bone, and—"

"Just like dragons. I've wondered how in the world such vast creatures manage to fly at all. It shouldn't be possible, unless you have wildly strong bones, hollow like a bird's, and muscles many times as strong as a man's." She paused, looking at me. "And if you are made still of the same stuff, only in the form of a man—sweet Lady—no wonder the Healer couldn't help you! And poor Jamie's pell!"

She was excited now, her anguish gone, her eyes sparkling in the dim candlelight, I love that spirit in her, that will not surrender to despair.

"Varien, that must be it! You are still in many ways one of the Kantri—your form is changed, but you are made still of the same stuff, and"—she glanced down at her belly, suddenly solemn—"and that is what is wrong. That's the war, it must be. This child is—oh Shia—"

Both her hands covered her mouth, as if she were trying to recall those words. I bespoke her, thanking the Winds and the Lady for truespeech.

"This child is what, Lanen?"

In reply I heard an echo in her mind, her memory of a voice I never thought to hear again—Rishkaan, who died half a year ago, speaking what were nearly his last words when Lanen stood trial before the Kantri.

She would mingle the blood of the Kantri and Gedri! Her children will be monsters, the world will fill with Raksha-fire and none to stand between because of her!

I took her by the shoulders and shook her. It made her angry, but it got her attention. "Stop it, Lanen! You are guessing. You know none of this as fact. All that you know for certain is that you are ill with this pregnancy." I managed a laugh, though it was not much of one. "Name of the Winds, dearling, if I were truly of the substance of my old people you would know dreadful pain when we joined in love, if indeed you survived it at all! Be reasonable. The seed of the Kantri would not quicken one of the Gedri, it could never happen. Rishkaan spoke from his hate, dearling. Do not be foolish. It cannot be."

She closed her eyes for a moment, hearing my words for the truth they were. She relaxed suddenly and sat again on the bed. "You're right, thank you, of course you're right. It just couldn't happen." She looked up at me, her eyes bright in the dim candlelight. "But I am having trouble with this child."

"Yes." I grinned. "I think we have come around to where we began. The question before us—before you—is, what is to do about it?"

"The—the Healer said we need to find a Mage," she said. "Fast."

"Then that is what we must do. Where should we find such a person?"

"They live all over, there might even be one here in Kaibar, but the school that trains them is in Verfaren. But that's not the worst of it, Varien," she said quietly. "She said I had to find a Mage very quickly or I'd die of this child. Verfaren is three or four weeks away."

A vague idea had begun to form in my mind. "Lanen, do not fear it. There is always a way."

She stared at me, but I did not dare speak of what I was thinking. Not yet.

"In the meantime, am I correct in thinking that Mages are simply very strong Healers?"

"In general, yes," said Lanen. "That woman was only a Healer of the second rank. Mages are more than twice as powerful. Maikel was a Healer of the third rank and you saw what he could do. Mages would be called fifth rank if they could be called anything, but after the fourth I gather that their gifts differ in kind, not just in ability." She frowned. "I would guess there would be someone around here who can help, Kaibar's a big place and trouble in pregnancy isn't all that uncommon."

"Then let us seek out a Mage, my heart," I said. I had caught some of her hope, and combined with the mad thought that had occurred to me, I dared to think that both the child and Lanen might live yet.

Lanen stood and shrugged on her clothes. "Let's get down to dinner and ask Rella, or the innkeeper. Someone is bound to have some idea where we should look."

The smells rising from the common room as we came out of our room were delicious. Lanen clattered down the stair with more energy than I'd seen from her in weeks, and the small grain of hope that had been planted in my heart sent a tiny green seedling into the light and the air.

The variety of foods that the Gedri have created from simple ingredients has never yet ceased to amaze me. There was a thick vegetable soup and a slab of nutty brown bread with it, then a roasted ham served with some kind of root vegetable I had never seen—when Lanen told me it was called "parsnip" I laughed aloud at the sound of the name—and potatoes that had been magically transformed into a fluffy white mush.They were delicious. I was delighted to see Lanen eating heartily. She had lost so much flesh as we travelled, for the food we had carried was intended only to sustain on a journey and after the first se'ennight or so she could not keep it down. The Healer had done good work, however, and for the moment at least Lanen seemed much better. She was still far too thin, but her cheeks were no longer sunken with constant pain. The seedling grew another tiny leaf.

Rella was pleased at Lanen's recovery as well, and seemed almost surprised to see her. "Are you feeling better, my girl?"

Jamie frowned over at Lanen. "Yes, I heard you had a Healer in, lass." He looked long at her. "About time, too. You're too damn thin and I know fine you haven't kept a full meal down for days." His kind eyes belied the gruff words he spoke. "And you've been such a pest this last se'ennight I'd guess you must have been in a lot more pain than you said. What did the Healer have to say?"

For the first time, for just a moment, I knew the joy that I had always felt was the right of one carrying a child. "I'm pregnant, Jamie." I grinned at him. "If I live through this, you're going to be a grandfather."

Bless him, his face lit up like a fire in midwinter, and he leapt up from his bench to embrace me, laughing. "You horrible child, are you in such a hurry to make me an old man?" he said, delighted. "How wonderful! Ah, Lanen, I'm so pleased for you." Then he realised that both Rella and Varien were still looking fairly grave. "And so," he said soberly, sitting down again. " 'If I live through this,' you say. You needed a Healer, all is not well. Tell me."

I sat down and told him what the healer had said. All of it. "But I'm not finished yet, Jamie. I feel so much better now! My stomach isn't heaving, I don't have that damned headache, and my back hardly aches at all."

"Where are we to find a Mage in this town?" he asked.

"My job," said Rella immediately. "The girl's not going to fall over this instant, and I know a place I can go tomorrow where I can learn all I need."

Jamie started to object but I laid my hand on his arm. "I'm not daft, Jamie, and I have no intention of dying. If we cannot find a Mage here, we must find a way to get swiftly to Verfaren, that's all."

"It's three weeks, best speed, my lass," he said heavily.

"Well? I'm no weakling, Jamie. I can do anything for three weeks. Besides, there are Healers along our path, are there not?"

"Yes," said Rella dryly, "but probably not as many as you'll need."

"I have managed this long without one, I'm sure I can last between one Healer and the next."

"It's too damned far," said Jamie sharply. I was surprised and stared at him. He glared back. "You have only just managed to get here, Lanen," he said. "You will not be able to ride nearly so far, especially if you are unwell with this babe. We should think about finding a safe place to stay."

"No," I said. "Hideous as that woman was, she was right in one thing—Verfaren is the best place for me to be with this child."

"Hells' teeth, Lanen. Have you forgotten what else is in Verfaren?" he said, his voice little more than a whisper. It barely carried to me. "Berys the Bastard, Berys Child-killer

is there. The one man in the world you need to avoid, and he is squatting like a toad in the one place in the world you need to be."

"Then we must ensure that we bring a Mage to Lanen rather than taking her there," said Varien quietly. "Surely, there is somewhere near enough to Verfaren that Lanen need not enter the city itself."

"Well spoken, lad," said Rella. Varien looked surprised at being called "lad," but seemed to take it in good part. "It's true, there are any number of little villages where we could take shelter and simply send for a Mage. We'll have to get a damn sight closer, but at least we don't have to go into the bastard's very clutches."

"I still don't like it," said Jamie.

Rella turned full to him. "Neither do I, Master, not at all, but we all must dance when demons pipe."

Varien turned to me, his eyebrows lifted. "What in all the wide world does she mean by that?" he asked plaintively in truespeech.

I laughed. It felt good to laugh, to let go the fear and the gloom even for a moment. "She means that sometimes life pushes you into a corner and you are forced to do something you would not choose to do otherwise," I answered aloud, smiling. "As long as we don't draw attention to ourselves, we should be able to creep in under his nose and creep out again when all is done."

Jamie looked doubtful but Rella nodded. "There's a good chance, in any case, that I'll be able to find a Mage here in Kaibar," she said. "Just you take it easy tonight, my girl!"

I laughed. "You have my word of honour," I said.

"Taken and bound," she replied with a smile. "I'm off tonight, I'll see what I can find out."

"Off where?" asked Jamie gruffly. "We just got here."

"Wherever I wish to go," she said, turning to him and laughing. "There is no more I can do for Lanen tonight. I have not been in a city for nearly three moons now, and though I can trail along back roads and through forest and field with the best, I am a daughter of Sorun at heart. Kaibar is only second-best but it will have to do. And I need not answer to you, Master Jameth," she said lightly. "I found myself a different Healer and I've had my back seen to. I too feel better than I have since before midwinter, and tonight I am going to enjoy myself." She grinned, and there was a mischievous light in her eye that I had never seen before. It suited her. "I will see you all tomorrow. I assume we are staying tomorrow night as well?"

"We have seen no sign of pursuit," said Jamie very quietly, "and both we and the horses will be the better for the rest."

"Fine. I'll see you here tomorrow afternoon. Tell them to keep dinner for me," she said to me, rising and putting on her cloak. "It's the best food I've had in ages and I don't want to miss it."

I grinned at her. "Have fun, Rella," I said. She caught my eye and we laughed, leaving the men to wonder what on earth we were laughing at.

I adore Varien, and Jamie is the father I never had, but they can both be so stupid at times.

And sweet Goddess, but it felt good to laugh, if only for a brief moment.

When the green was just beginning to rise above the cold earth but the trees were yet bare of leaf, I woke one morning as though to the sound of a voice. It was not His, I could not truly be certain that I had heard anything at all, but it had a sense about it of—of family, of home. I shivered and went out of the shelter where I awaited His coming, out to breathe deep of the morning air and see the sky. I heard nothing in that cold clear morning but the voices of our far cousins the birds, so I rose on wings stiff with too much waiting, revelling in the feel of air, and greeted the dawn with a sprightly wing-dance. With me in the air I soon found, to my surprise, some few of my own kind, like me celebrating the warmth of the morning and the simple pleasure of a bright day. All were of the first kind, the Heart-speakers, those I knew I could trust. We came to land as if by consent in a place I had passed through on my journey to the only home I knew.

It was a high place, up in the hills and safe. Most of it was grassy and as flat as any field, save for the two talons of rock that ran out from the high cliffs and enclosed the larger part of it. There was a small wood at one end, and from it the scent of water drew us to a small pool, where we drank.

That was the beginning. By the end of the day a few more had joined us, and as the time went on it seemed that whatever had drawn me into the air had affected all my kinfolk as well.

We gathered, not knowing why, not asking. A few one day, none the next, more the next. We did not question it, nor ourselves. We could not speak but we showed each other visions, thoughts, of the places we had come from. Some came as couples, some with young, and my heart knew pain when I saw mothers and killings together. I could not remember my mother's eyes, but I remembered her passing.

I missed him so. He had taken me in, been mother and father to me, given of love freely and kept my own heart's-fire alive. Where was he?

"Fire, water, earth and air, keep us in the Lady's care ..."

I astounded myself by waking to the old words of the traveller's prayer. Jamie had taught it to me as a child, when I was most desperate to see what lay beyond my small world, and now in the bright morning it danced in my mind like the sun through spring leaves.

That was just as well, for spring still seemed a thousand years distant. I opened my eyes, glanced around the tiny inn room, wondered where in blazes I was and nearly jumped out of bed when I realised there was someone in there with me. I woke poor Varien laughing.

He had the grace not to mind. I apologised for waking him, but he smiled at me and said, "Would you apologise for waking me with laughter? Never, kadreshi. And there is sunlight as well. A day to celebrate!"

It was such a relief to waken with a light heart, for the first time in what felt like years! Varien and I delighted in that sunlit waking and, foolish though it may have been, made cheerfully passionate love. It was uncomfortable at first and made my back ache again, but it felt so good to join with him that I ignored the twinges and took my pleasure along with him. Varien, I was pleased to note, was getting really quite good at this lovemaking lark.

I felt vastly better than I had, though with my body in less pain for the moment, the voices were back to bother me. I know I am harping on about them, but imagine hearing always in your ears what seems to be a whispered conversation some distance away, the words of which you can never quite make out, and the noise of which you cannot escape. I resolutely ignored it that morning, however, for I was determined to make a right day of it. The light was lingering much later now, the days moving away from the winter dark, and I was feeling the good of the healing and the food from the day before, and of sleeping in a real bed again.

We drifted down to breakfast some time later and found only lukewarm porridge on offer, which we declined. I had a good sum of silver with me and I was suddenly determined to take advantage of the time and go exploring with Varien. He had never really seen a city, for we had left Corli in a tearing hurry. I bade Jamie farewell, Varien put his arm about my waist and we stepped out into the morning.

I had only ever seen Kaibar briefly when I passed through it on the riverboat that bore me to Corli in the autumn. I don't usually care much about clothing, but I had found a cloak there, a beautiful green woolen cloak that I adored. It had been destroyed on the Dragon Isle and at the time I hadn't thought twice about it, but now I was determined to find something of the kind to take along with me. I knew I would never find the same shop again, but I was happy enough to wander the streets until some other single lovely thing caught my fancy. I was feeling more than a little shabby and I needed to do something to celebrate my new condition, hazardous though it was. If nothing else, I would put down my wager on the future by purchasing cloth with which to make myself some larger tunics and let out the waists of my leggings!

I know it was foolish to assume that I would need to do so, to believe that I would be able to carry the child—or even that I would live—but I was so thrilled at feeling so much better than I had, that I dared to hope. Indeed, I was fairly drunk on it, as was Varien, and we set out into the city laughing.

That bright morning with Varien is so vivid! I remember it even now as if it were hours ago instead of decades. We wandered down towards the river, past cobblers and fishmongers and butchers, every kind of merchant's stall you can imagine, all intent, with the best will in the world, on separating every passing soul from as much of their silver as possible.

The smells were nearly overpowering as we came closer to the water. The streets of Kaibar were none too clean—I was glad I was wearing my thick leather riding boots—and the smell of so many people in one place, combined with horses and leather and fish and cooking, was hard on my poor stomach. We had bought hot meat pies from a baker but neither of us could bear to eat them until we came to the river.

There at least the smells were not so vicious, for a brisk wind blew down the Kai and carried them away south and west. We sat on the riverbank and ate our pies but the wind was too fresh to sit in for long. I took Varien down to the harbour, glancing into every tented stall, looking at everything but caught by nothing until we passed a leatherworker's shop. No tented stall out of doors for this one, but a small room in the front of his home to display his goods. There were leather scrips, baldrics, gloves for use and for show, sheaths for everything from a sword to a tiny ladies' dagger, archers' armguards and quivers, all the usual things, but on a small table by the door there were stacks and stacks of his stock-in-trade, belts of good thick leather with silver or iron buckles. Some were tooled, some were dyed the most amazing colours, some were fanciful carved pieces that were obviously only made for the look of them. I love the smell of leather, always have, and I must have looked happily at every belt on that table without finding anything I particularly wanted. The maker noticed me looking, however, and smiled. He was a neat little man, with a quick smile in a black-bearded face and merry eyes. He beckoned me over. "I have only this moment finished this one, Lady," he said, holding up a tooled belt. The leather itself was nothing wonderful, a thick serviceable belt, but on it he had carved a pattern of leaves and dyed each one a different shade of green. Against the brown of the leather they were perfect. They almost reminded me of the embroidery of my lost cloak. The buckle was of brass, which he made sure to tell me was his very last of a number obtained in trade from the East Kingdom some years ago.

I laughed. "And when I have gone you will bring the other last buckle out, I suppose," I said. He grinned. "It is not impossible," he replied. "How then would five silver strike you, for such fine tooling and my very nearly last brass buckle?"

I enjoyed haggling with him over the price, and as usual we ended up somewhere between our two extremes, but in the end of the day I didn't really care what I paid and I'm afraid he knew it. Still, when he offered to cut it to my size I could laugh and tell him that I was soon going to require a larger size in belts and I'd keep it as long it was. He wished us joy and I walked out with Varien on my arm and the belt around my waist on the tightest hole, most thoroughly pleased with myself.

I also managed to find a clothiers and bought a good weight of material for a tunic in a deep blue that Varien said suited me. We wandered back through the streets towards the inn and found ourselves in a part of the city where a patch of grass and a small stand of trees grew by the edge of a stream. The trees were all bare branches, of course, and with the brown grass I suppose it was bleak enough, but by the waterside sprouted Lady's-bells, their silvery-white heads nodding among the bright green of their leaves, and here and there pale ground roses were just beginning to open, pink and palest yellow. It cheered me just to sit there in the weak afternoon sun before we went back to the inn.

I know this is not the stuff ballads are made of. I suspect anyone who can be bothered to read so far is wondering why I should write such things, that can interest no one but an old woman remembering her past. The truth is that those days were so full of great and terrible things happening, so full of pain and fear and change and darkness, that sometimes I like to recall the times when Varien and I were just being new-wedded idiots together. There were few enough of them. That day was wonderful, without a single care, and I will never forget it. After so long running from pursuit, we felt safe for the moment, and we resolved without a word being spoken to act that day as if all would be well. The Healer's work, despite her manner, was well done and I felt vastly better than I had. Varien dared to tell me of his joy at the mere possibility of being a father, and for the moment I barely heard the voices that whispered at me. It was the Lady's promise of paradise come to real life as a brief glimpse—or so I felt that day, and so I still believe. If there is a life beyond death, if there is a kindly place where we go to be forever with those souls we love best, it would be hard put to it to rival that one bright day with Varien.

Alas! If we had known we might have fought it, but we did not know. I was too blind, too full of the sight of the land running like water to understand the reason behind it.

And yet, what could we have done? Fire was rising against us and we knew not where to turn. We could not fight it with tooth or talon, we could not burn hotter than the fires of the earth. Perhaps in the end we had no choice. I bespoke Kedra as soon as I reached my chambers. It was now deep night.

"My son, are you well?" I asked quietly.

"We come, Father," he replied immediately. "Sherok is enjoying his treat, a flight in the dark to visit grandfather Shikrar. Brave soul, my son!"

I waited.

"We will be there very shortly, Eldest," said Mirazhe, her mind voice amazingly clear and calm. I took heart from hearing her. "Sherok and I will await you in Lord Akhor's old chambers by the Great Hall. It seems fitting somehow," she said, "for I would guess that we will see Varien Kantri-akhorfar sooner than we had thought to."

"There is nothing more likely, dearest daughter," I replied, and could not resist the ghost of an amused hiss. "He may be ever so slightly surprised."

"It will be good for him," said Kedra. "He has hardly spoken with us since he left. If we are a surprise to him, so much the better, it will serve him right."

"May all the Gedri be as eager to see us, though I fear they will not be."

"Ah, but we have the Lady Lanen to speak for us," said Kedra.

"She is one voice among thousands, and herself declared that she was of no particular note among her people," I said. "Do you think that those who must be persuaded will hear her, courageous as she is?"

"Father, I crave your pardon, but you have forgotten," replied Kedra, undaunted. "This child of the Gedri, of no particular note, managed to talk the Kantrishakrim, assembled in Council, out of killing her and into accepting her as the mate of our king. Name of the Winds, this is a soul that could rule the world."

I could not help myself. Faced as I was with change and the end of my life as I had known it, still I laughed at the truth behind my son's words. "Bless you, Kedra, you dreadful kit!" I said. "Solemnity now would undo me. Where are you now?"

"Mirazhe and Sherok are safe in Akhor's chambers, with a fire lit. I come," he said. He was with me almost as his thought ended.

"Welcome, most welcome, dear my son," I said as he came into the Chamber of Souls. We embraced, and I held him to my heart, my wings wrapped about him, just as I had when he was but a youngling. "Ah, Kedra, my dear," I said, and suddenly I could say no more. My throat tightened and I choked on my words. He had been born in that place, my beloved Yrais had died there, the very walls were hallowed with memories and life, and I knew I would never spend another night there. I remained in my generous son's embrace with bowed head and my heart caught in the depths of my despair, when I felt a terrible thing.

We are creatures of fire. We produce fire when we are pleased, when we are angry, when we are deeply moved, as the Gedri produce the salt water they call tears. Few know it, but we also weep, in the last extremity of soul's darkness.

I felt a tear hiss its way down my faceplate.

Kedra saw and did nothing, just held me. I knew deep in my soul that he was remembering the night Yrais died, for then it was he who had wept. I had held him then, been his strength when my own heart was shattered and dead, and now that strength held me up.

Has ever father had such a son?

Blessed be the Winds, but such times are short. I touched his soulgem with my own, that intimacy that only parents and children share, and was again myself.

"Thank you," I said simply.

"I am thirsty, Father. Let us drink before we begin," he said, embarrassed I think.

It is often difficult even for such a one as Kedra to admit to great strength.

We went the few steps out the door of my chambers and both drank deeply of the stream that ran close by. The simple feel of the water, the taste of it on my tongue that I had not noticed for years, the smell of the slow-approaching spring beneath the earth were suddenly precious beyond words. The thought "you will never do that again" threatened me, but I turned from it. Time enough to grieve later.

Water. Fire. The island alight—no, there could be no mourning until we were safely gone.

With a heart weighted down with sorrow we turned back into my chamber. I had lit a fire in the main chamber both to hallow our actions and to aid us in our task.

We scraped together great handfuls of khaadish from the corner where I slept and began to make several deep bowls, breathing fire to melt and smooth the surface and to ease the shaping of them. When they were complete I sent Kedra out to gather moss while I made flat plates about the size of the bowls, bent them slightly that they might act as coverings, and laid them aside. I used the moss to line the bottom and sides of the bowls.

I could delay no longer. As we stood at the opening of the inner chamber, the wall facing us was covered in khaadish with the soulgems of our Ancestors set deep in the soft metal. I bowed to the gathered Ancestors of our people, reached up to the highest and oldest and with a careful talon dug it out of its setting. As I placed it gently in the vessel I felt my sorrow as a physical pain, but I could bear it. I had to.

"Kedra, of your kindness make a covering for the cask that holds the soulgems of the Lost," I said.

Poor things, borne here ages ago when first they were torn from their owners, and now forced to return to the place where it had happened.

Alas for us all.

It started again that night, of course. I should have known that even so simple a thing as a day of joy has its price.

When we returned to the inn I was tired and I went up to my room to rest. I found my clean, dry clothes folded neatly on the bed and all but danced a jig. I turned my pack inside out, brushed it clean, then turned it back and put my treasures carefully back in, swearing to myself this time to save one change of underwear and one clean shirt against the next time I was truly filthy. When I straightened it hit me, as before, like a dagger had plunged into my belly. I blessed true-speech and yelled for Varien to bring Rella as I crawled to the bed. They were with me in moments. Rella took one look, started swearing and left. She was back soon with a basin of hot water, some cloths, and the assurance that a different Healer had been sent for.

Varien said nothing aloud. He sat beside me, his back to Rella and her ministrations, his eyes gazing gently into mine. Instead of the whispering voices I now heard only his own glorious voice in my mind. There were no words, exactly, but I could feel the strength and love he was sending me surrounding me like a blanket.

"I went looking for a Mage for you, girl, but we're out of luck," said Rella quietly. "Of the three who live here, two are out of town and the third is a bone-setter." She winked at me over Varien's shoulder. "You wouldn't care to break a leg, would you? We could find out how good he is."

I managed to smile back, for the pain had lessened for the moment. "Thanks, Rella, you're a true friend, but I wouldn't dream of depriving you. Just come up here where I can reach you and I'll help you break your own leg, then you can find out."

A man walked in at that moment, someone I'd never seen before. He was middle-aged, of middle height, and he frowned at me. "And what's troubling you, young woman?" he asked, his voice and bearing the very portrait of self-importance. He walked towards me, pushing back his sleeves and starting to glow blue.

"A strange man just walked into my room and started asking me questions," I snarled. Something about him made me want to bite. "Maybe if he said who the devil he was I'd feel better."

"I am the Healer Kidleth. I was sent for," he replied, not bothered in the slightest.

"What happened to the woman who came yesterday?" I asked, as a distraction and to alert Rella. I bespoke Varien as fast as I could. "Akor, there's something terribly wrong with him. Can you see it? Am I crazy? I don't want him to touch me!"

Kidleth muttered something and Varien stepped forward and offered his hand. Kidleth took it for an instant, but no more, for Varien dropped it as fast as he could. I could nearly hear him hiss.

"You serve the Rakshasa!" he growled. He was breathing strangely. "Remember you can't breathe fire anymore," I told him swiftly. I heard his breathing change as he stepped forward, towering over the man and forcing him to move away from me and back towards the door. "How dare you come here reeking of the filth!"

The man tried to hold his ground for a moment. "I am the prime Healer with the House of Gundar in Kaibar, young man, you will not address me that way!"

"I am Varien of the line of Loriakeris," growled Varien fervently, "and I will kill you if you do not leave this place immediately."

I shivered. Varien was become Akor again, and saw the evil in this man's soul as deserving instant death, as would be the case on the Dragon Isle. His voice was the same kind of cold I had once heard from Jamie, when he was speaking with a man he was about to kill.

"Leave this instant, you idiot. Can't you see he means it?" snarled Rella. Her hand was on the hilt of her dagger.

The Healer turned and ran without another word. Rella picked up my boots and threw them to me. "I don't care how much it hurts, girl. Get dressed now. We're leaving. I'll go tell Jamie."

"Why?" I demanded.

"Have you forgotten, or didn't you hear for the pain?" she asked me as she swiftly gathered my belongings and tied up my pack. "House of Gundar! I told you when we were on the Dragon Isle—Marik's got demon callers in nearly every branch of his Merchant House, most of them Healers he's turned bad, and this idiot was one of them. If Marik or Berys seek us, they will know where we are within the hour. We have to go. Get dressed and meet me in the common room as fast as you can."

I gritted my teeth, dressed as quickly as I could and we hurried downstairs, but Rella was there before us. "Jamie's out saddling the horses," she said, smiling, calmly paying the innkeeper and chatting about the weather. We followed her outside. The twilight was fading and true dark setting in.

Jamie met us at the door with the horses, who were fractious at being saddled and turned out of their warm barn at such a peculiar hour. As we mounted, Rella said only, "Follow me."

We did. The pain was just bearable, for the moment, and Rella seemed to know what she was doing. I could see Jamie shrug in the light from the inn and turn his horse to follow hers.

We turned from well-lit streets with many houses to an altogether darker part of the town. Barely one house in three was occupied. Many had broken shutters, doors hung off their hinges, and there seemed to be far too many dogs about. The horses were as nervous as I was, and when Jamie's Blaze snorted and backed from a narrow lane Jamie risked speaking. "You do know where you're going, do you?" he called to Rella.

She answered quietly from just ahead of Jamie. "I know they don't like it. Not far now."

We followed, down a short cobbled lane only just wide enough for the horses to enter single file. There was a high gated wall at the end of the street, with a door in it as wide as the lane itself. The door was closed and the gate was dark.

When we were all stood in a line before the door, Rella whistled a series of peculiar notes. Immediately a light was revealed halfway up the wall and the door opened wide. She rode in ahead of us, still whistling, and we came out into a large grassy courtyard covered by a high roof on long poles. How so much room could lurk behind so narrow a street I could not imagine, but I was new to cities and there was much I did not understand. For example, I had no idea where we were, but Jamie looked around and laughed. It wasn't a pleasant sound.

I'd heard of the Silent Service all my life and I'd known more than a few of their members, but I'd never dared to hope I'd see the inside of one of their Strongholds. In fact I'd begun to wonder if they were no more than tales. As I glanced around I realised where and why the stories about them had started.

From cobbled lane to grass—so their members would disappear at me end of that impossible road, or appear silently from nowhere and be able to ride hell for leather from a standing start. And the high roof must be designed to fool the eye from above—anyone looking down from a high tower would see only more roofs. It was ingenious and I longed for a little more light, but instead we were approached by three people wearing hoods, who gestured us down from our horses.

Rella, who had dismounted, said, "Don't worry, Jamie. You're not allowed to see any more than you've seen. All of you, please, you'll need to be hooded for a moment or two."

"And you?" asked Varien, sounding none too pleased.

"I work here," said Rella, laughing. "Come, there's no harm in it. I need to talk to my Master fast and this was the only way to do it. If you don't wear the hoods they'll have to knock you facedown on the ground and sit on you. Hoods are easier."

Lanen laughed. "Pass it over, then. I can't see worth spit in this light anyway so I might as well have an excuse." She placed the hood over her own head without a qualm.

We didn't really have any choice so we all did as Rella asked. "I'll be right back," she said. As she left we heard her calling on someone to bring us food and wine. In moments I had a fresh bread roll in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. Couldn't fault their hospitality, and at least there was plenty of room under the hood to allow us to eat and drink.

If you think I'm going to give away any secrets, think again.

When I reached the Master of Kaibar we had a swift conversation, most of which any bystander would have found impossible to understand. Many of the lesser agents would also be confused, and I am not about to break silence now. However, if we had been speaking normally the mundane parts of the conversation would have gone something like this.

"I assume, Mistress Relleda, that you have a truly fine reason for bringing three Bricks into this Sanctuary?"

"You assume correctly. The idiot innkeeper at the Three Kings sent for one of Berys's twisted creatures when I wanted a Healer."

"I heard you were after healing. You don't look any worse than usual."

"It's for a client."

"A client!" he snorted. "And now you're going to tell me your client is in the courtyard."

"You guess well."

He sat back and glared at me. "Three Bricks in the Sanctuary, Rella. This had better be good."

I crossed my arms and grinned. "Damn right it's good. You would not believe how the strands of fate are crossed and woven in favour of the lady out there. That girl is the one Berys is after. The daughter of Marik. The one in the demon caller's prophecy who's going to rule all of Kolmar."

"You've found her!" he cried, jubilant.

"Found her? I've been with her for months. And I'm not going to give her up now. Do you realise what she's worth? To her mother, to Marik, to Berys himself?''

"Then you intend to bargain with her?" he asked, sitting back, nearly closing his eyes.

I snorted. "Not likely. You know what Berys is after and so do I. I've no time for demons or the bastards who work with them. I'm on duty for her mother, Maran Vena."

"I've heard of her," said the Master, a tiny, greedy smile crossing his face. "I've heard she has something almost as valuable as her daughter."

"The Farseer is not the issue here."

"Why not?"

"Trust me, it's not for sale or stealing." I grimaced. "I tried once. Bad idea. Is the Healer here?"

"I'll send her out."

"And I'll need Post horses for four all the way to Verfaren, or at least to within a day's travel." I was proud of myself. My voice stayed calm and reasonable through that whole sentence.

He sprang to his feet then, spluttering and swearing. "Hells' teeth and bones, woman! Do you have any idea of the cost? Of the wear on the horses, of the loss of speed to our people for a week! Give me one good reason I should let you and three Bricks use the Post!"

I waited, smiling, for him to stop spluttering, then said calmly, "I need to get the new owner of Hadron's horses safely to the best Healers in the world. Then, when she owes us her life—well, we may never have to pay for one again."

Damn, he could move fast when he wanted to.