“Thank you, Glyndon,” Kayl said.
“The pleasure is mine,” Glyndon said.
Jirod’s eyes widened suddenly, and he half rose from the chair. “You’re a Varnan!”
“You’re quick,” Glyndon said. “I can usually spend at least a day in a town this small before that particular suspicion occurs to somebody. If I make a point of talking very little, that is.”
“A Varnan!” Mark said eagerly. “Are you a wizard Varnan?”
“After a fashion,” Glyndon said.
“And Mother says he knew Father!” Dara told Mark in a piercing whisper.
Jirod stared at Glyndon, ignoring the children; Kayl could not decide whether his expression was one of apprehension or of anger. “What are you doing in Copeham?” he demanded.
“Glyndon came to warn me about the Magicseekers,” Kayl said.
“Warn you? But the Magicseekers don’t have any interest in—” Jirod hesitated, eyeing Kayl’s clothing and the sword she carried; then he finished weakly, “—people like us.”
Kayl sighed. “Jirod, fifteen years ago I was a member of the Sisterhood of Stars. The Circle of Silence has plenty of reason to be interested in me, if only for what I carry.” She tapped the glowing stone in the hilt of her sword, ignoring Mark’s muffled exclamation.
There was a moment’s silence. Kayl could almost see the pieces falling together in Jirod’s mind. “Why shouldn’t they be looking for her!” he said, not quite glaring at Corrana.
“It is possible,” Corrana said calmly before Kayl could reply. “But many things are possible.”
“And I will not take risks with the children’s safety,” Kayl said. “It’ll be easy enough to go back to the inn, if I’m wrong and the Magicseekers are just passing through.” Her words mocked her with double meanings even as she spoke. Easy to go back? She doubted it.
“But they didn’t stop,” Jirod said with relief.
Kayl’s eyes narrowed. “You saw them?” she said sharply.
“We both saw them,” Mark burst out eagerly. “Six of them! They went right past Holum’s just when we were going in. I got to see them even closer than Tully.”
Kayl turned questioningly to Jirod. “They were Magicseekers then?”
“Yes,” Jirod said, looking at her uncertainly. “I thought you knew that.”
“And they went on through? You’re certain?”
“I wasn’t about to stand out in the rain watching them!” Jirod said with some annoyance. “But when Mark here dragged me out of the smithy, they were heading over the hill.”
“How many of them did you say there were?” Glyndon said. His voice sounded strained.
“Six,” Jirod replied, sounding even more annoyed than before.
“No,” Glyndon said. “That’s wrong. There are—there are seven.” He swayed on his feet, and Kayl saw that he had turned white. “Seven eagle-helmeted soldiers, bringing fire and blood…”
“Dara, get up,” Kayl said. “Don’t touch him, Jirod, it only makes things worse.” She shoved Dara’s empty chair at Glyndon, and the Varnan collapsed into it, shaking violently.
“What is it?” Jirod said. “It’s like the falling sickness Ban’s girl has, but he’s not—”
“He is a Seer, of sorts,” Corrana said, and Jirod jumped. The sorceress smiled very slightly and went on. “I begin to agree with his opinions of it; it seems an uncomfortable talent.”
“Jirod, have you got any wine?” Kayl snapped. “No? Water, then, please. As quickly as you can.”
Jirod brought the water just as Glyndon gave the shuddering sigh that signaled the vision’s end. Kayl handed Glyndon the mug and watched narrowly while he drank.
“Thank you,” Glyndon said as he lowered the mug. “And my apologies, that you should have to deal with this twice. I am usually more careful.”
“Careful?” Kayl said. “You have some control of the visions?”
“No, but I can control where I am when they take me.” Glyndon’s tone was bleak. “Until recently.”
“And do your visions usually come so close together?”
“Again, not until recently. But they’ve always been capricious. I’d go months without ‘seeing’ anything, then have three of these fits within a week.”
“But not two in one day,” Kayl said.
“No.”
“Then what you ‘see’ is presumably of some importance,” Corrana said coolly. “Tell us.”
Kayl shot her a look of dislike. Glyndon shook his head. “The same as before. Seven eagle-helmed soldiers smashing things at the inn, and Kayl… We haven’t escaped it yet.”
“Seven Magicseekers,” Corrana said. “Yet those who came today were but six.”
“Islorran!” Kayl said. “His villa is farther down that road, away from town. There must be another one staying with him.”
“I don’t think Prefect Islorran would help the Magicseekers,” Jirod said.
“Why not?” Kayl said. “Mindaria isn’t part of the Estarren Alliance anymore; the Circle of Silence has come and gone as they pleased for the last five or ten years.”
“Your Prefect would not be the first to bargain with them for support,” said Corrana.
“And it would explain why Utrilo Levoil was poking around my inn so determinedly two days ago.”
“What?” Glyndon said. “You didn’t tell me anything about that.”
Quickly, Kayl summarized Utrilo’s visit to the inn. “He isn’t usually so persistent, but if Islorran has a Magicseeker visiting him, Utrilo would be under a lot more pressure.”
Jirod was staring at Kayl, and she realized suddenly that she had begun to pace. She stopped short, feeling foolish. Jirod’s gaze did not waver. “Kayl,” he said, “can I talk with you privately?”
Kayl blinked, surprised by the suddenness of the request. “Yes, if it won’t take too long. I don’t think we have much time.”
“I suspect you are right,” Corrana said. “Perhaps you should stay, and hold your conversation here.”
“No, lady,” Kayl said. “Not this time.” She held the sorceress’s eyes until Corrana gave a little nod; then she looked at Jirod. “The kitchen?”
Jirod nodded abstractedly and rose. Kayl followed. He did not speak until the kitchen door was firmly shut behind them; then he said, “Kayl, you don’t have to do this.”
“What do you mean? Jirod, I won’t let the children be—”
“I don’t mean that! Of course you’d never let them be hurt, and I can see why you think they might be if you stayed. But you don’t have to go away with these wizards!”
Kayl took a deep breath and let it out again slowly. “I don’t see any reasonable alternatives,” she said carefully.
“You could stay here, in my house,” Jirod said. “For as long as you like.”
Kayl could think of half a dozen insoluble problems with doing any such thing, but she was touched by the offer nonetheless. “And bring the Magicseekers down on you, too? I couldn’t do that.”
“But you’ll leave Copeham for a stranger’s story.”
“Glyndon is an old friend, Jirod. I trust him, and Corrana as well. At least, to a point.”
“They’re wizards, Kayl,” Jirod said earnestly. “You can’t believe them.”
“Oh?”
“Wizards and witches are nothing but trouble for everyone. Look at the mess the Wizard’s War left, and the trouble the Magicseekers have caused. You don’t belong with them.”
“My husband was a Varnan wizard,” Kayl said in a tone that was as expressionless as she could make it.
Jirod stared at her. Then his face reddened and he looked away.
When she was sure he was not going to respond, Kayl said, “Is there anything else?”
“I seem to keep saying the wrong thing,” Jirod said quietly. “I’m sorry.”
Kayl sighed, her anger evaporating. “I think I understand. Still, I have to leave Copeham. For my own sake, as well as the children’s.
”
“But you belong here,” Jirod said.
Kayl looked at him. She could feel the weight of the sword of the Sisterhood hanging at her side, and smell the faint, musty odor of the leathers she wore. She thought of the inn and her children; of the growing hunger for magic and the rising tide of resentment facing Bryn and other nonhumans outside the Estarren Alliance; of her husband Kevran and of Jirod’s mistrust of magic; of all the ghosts that had begun stirring in her memories since Corrana’s arrival at the inn.
“No,” Kayl said slowly, after a long pause. “I don’t belong here.”
Jirod’s face went very still. “You mean that,” he said.
“Yes,” Kayl said gently. “I do.” She waited a moment; when Jirod did not reply, she walked past him to the door, and back into the other room.
CHAPTER
TEN
THE FIRST THING KAYL heard when she entered the front room was Dara’s voice saying, “What was he like?”
Glyndon glanced up from whatever he had been discussing with the children, and saw Kayl. “I’ll tell you later,” he said.
Dara followed his glance and said, “All right. Mother, I’m hungry.”
Kayl did a mental change in step and said, “There are vegetables and some cold stew in the basket. We should all have something; it may be awhile before we can stop again.” She heard Jirod come into the room behind her, but she did not turn. Instead, she went to the table and began helping Dara get out the food.
“What are we going to do now?” Mark asked.
“We’ll be leaving Copeham as soon as we’ve eaten,” Kayl said briskly.
“I thought you didn’t want to be seen!” Jirod objected. “Shouldn’t you wait until dark?”
Kayl turned. “If one of the Magicseekers is staying with Prefect Islorran, he probably knows everything Utrilo does about Copeham. Which means he’ll know who my friends are, and where I’d be likely to hide. When they get to the inn and find no one, they’ll know where to start looking. I’d counted on them having to hunt a little.”
“It’s still raining!”
“Then there will be fewer people around to see which way we go. I’m sorry, Jirod, but we have to leave. Quickly.”
“Perhaps you should join us,” Corrana said. “The Magicseekers will not be pleasant company, when they arrive.”
“No,” Jirod said. “That is, I’d rather not, my lady. Begging your pardon.”
“You’re sure, Jirod?” Kayl asked. Corrana was right; there was no telling what the Magicseekers might do if they thought Jirod could tell them where their prey had gone.
“I’m sure.” His eyes met hers. “Copeham is my home. I belong here.”
“I understand,” Kayl said. She sighed. “If the Magicseekers leave anything worth having when they’re done at the inn, it’s yours.”
“I’ll take care of things for you,” Jirod said. “Until you get back.”
The stubborn set of his chin told Kayl there was no use in trying to convince him that she might not be coming back. “Thank you,” she said. Another thought struck her, and she added, “If you see Bryn, tell her we couldn’t wait.”
“I’ll tell her,” Jirod promised. He paused. “Where will you be going?”
“East,” Kayl said without hesitation.
“East? But I thought—” Jirod broke off and glanced at Corrana.
“I think my husband’s family will be just as capable of protecting the children as the Sisterhood would be,” Kayl said firmly. “And without asking a price in return.”
“Varna is a long way. Are you sure—”
“I’m sure.”
“Varna?” Mark said eagerly. “We’re going to Varna?”
“Finish your stew, and we’ll see,” Kayl said.
“I am finished,” Mark said.
Dara was frowning in puzzlement. “Mother, what you just said—does that mean Father was a Varnan?”
“It does,” Kayl said. “I’ll explain later.” She was accumulating a considerable list of things to explain later, she thought uncomfortably, but there was no help for it.
“Yes, I think it’s time we left,” Glyndon said before Mark could voice any of the questions he was obviously bursting to ask.
Kayl nodded. Grumbling, Mark and Dara put the containers of stew back in the basket. Kayl checked to make sure that Mark had repacked his jar of stew properly. Reassured that the jar was not likely to tip over during the journey and soak everything in the basket, she bundled the children into their cloaks and handed them their bundles. She picked up her own package and adjusted the folds of her cloak to hide as much as possible of the sword she wore.
“Is everyone ready?” she said at last. “Then let’s go.”
Corrana rose and led the way. Mark and Dara followed. Glyndon rose, but hesitated, looking from Jirod to Kayl and back. Then he scowled and swept out of the house.
Kayl looked at Jirod. “Good-bye, my friend,” she said.
“Good-bye, Kayl.”
The quiet words seemed to hang in the air until the door of Jirod’s house closed behind her, cutting them off with a ruthless and unanswerable finality.
They walked eastward for most of the afternoon. Their progress was poorer than Kayl had hoped, for the steady rain had turned the road to a heavy mud that slid underfoot and clung like leaden weights to boots and sandals. Their cloaks quickly became sodden burdens, and the muddy hems slapped against their calves, cold and unpleasant. Kayl’s only consolation was the hope that the rain would delay the heavily armed and armored Magicseekers even more.
A few miles past the last of the cultivated land that surrounded Copeham, Kayl called a halt. Mark and Dara searched in vain for a dry rock to sit on. Finally they gave up and stood huddled together under their cloaks, a picture of misery.
“I’m cold,” Mark grumbled. “And this stupid cloak drips down my neck.”
“It would help if you wrapped it properly,” Kayl said as she adjusted the haphazard folds around Mark’s head. “There. Try to keep it that way for a while.”
“Why can’t one of them do something about all this rain?” Mark said, nodding toward Glyndon and Corrana. “And the mud and the cold?”
“Such as?”
“They’re wizards, aren’t they? Can’t they make it stop? Or at least keep us dry?”
“No,” Kayl said severely. “Magic isn’t used so casually.”
“Why not?” Mark demanded.
“A good question,” Glyndon said. “And one that doesn’t have a simple answer, I’m afraid. Partly, it’s a respect for the power we use. You could chop onions with a sword, but it’s usually easier to use a kitchen knife. Does that explain it?”
Mark nodded and scowled. “What’s the good of traveling with a wizard if you can’t even be comfortable?”
“Very little,” Glyndon said apologetically. He turned to Kayl and asked, “How much farther is it to the next town?”
“We aren’t going there,” Kayl said, scanning the rocky wastes on either side of the road. “We’re turning north.”
“You mean we aren’t going to Varna?” Mark said. “But I wanted to see all the wizards!”
“They don’t look any different from other people,” Kayl said. “And we aren’t making this trip to satisfy your curiosity.”
Warned by Kayl’s tone, Mark fell silent. Dara hunched her shoulders. “Well, where are we going, then?” she demanded crossly.
Kayl looked across at Corrana. “Kith Alunel, I think,” she said.
The sorceress gave a satisfied smile. “I am glad you have seen the wisdom of such a course of action,” she said, half lowering her eyelids.
Kayl returned the smile grimly. “I have some property to return to the Sisterhood of Stars,” she said, and shifted her cloak to allow Corrana a brief glimpse of the hilt of her sword.
Momentarily, Corrana’s face snowed consternation; then her expression smoothed into its usual unreadable mask. “As you will have it. You may y
et change your mind when you have spoken with the Elder Mothers.”
“Perhaps,” Kayl said noncommittally. She had no intention of returning to the Twisted Tower in the Windhome Mountains, whatever the Elder Mothers might say. Still, it couldn’t hurt to listen to them, and they might have some other task she could do. After all, she would have to find some way of supporting herself and her children. The little hoard of money in her belt-pouch would not last long. She looked at Glyndon. “Will you come with us, or have you other plans?”
Glyndon shrugged. “I have no plans,” he said shortly. “Kith Alunel is as good a destination for me as any.”
Annoyed and a little hurt by Glyndon’s abrupt manner, Kayl jerked her head toward the wet, rocky ground north of the road. “Start walking, then.”
Glyndon blinked at her, then suddenly grinned. “At your command,” he said, bowing, then lifted his staff and strode off. Kayl shook her head and followed.
They camped that night on the rocky waste. They were still too close to Copeham and the possibility of pursuit to risk a fire, so they constructed a makeshift tent from their wet, mud-splattered cloaks and huddled inside it. They spent a damp, muddy, miserable night. No one got very much sleep.
The second day of the journey was worse. Kayl was stiff from sleeping on the ground, and her muscles were sore from the unaccustomed walking. She forced herself to go through some of the stretching exercises her drillmasters had taught her so long before, and was appalled by how difficult they seemed. The children were tired, cross and hungry; cold stew did not noticeably improve their tempers. Dara sneezed twice while she was eating, and Kayl began worrying that the girl was catching a cold.
Glyndon looked positively haggard. Kayl suspected he had had another of his visions during the night, but he did not volunteer any information and she was unwilling to pry. Corrana was the only member of the group who bore any resemblance to her usual self. Even with her cloak muddied to the knees and her hair in snarls, she had an air of calm power that must command respect anywhere.
At least the rain had stopped. By midmorning, the summer sun had come out, and the little group could shed their cloaks. Walking became easier as the ground dried off, though the children continued to complain. Despite the better footing, the group still did not move as quickly as Kayl had hoped. She developed a habit of scanning the southern horizon whenever they paused to rest, but she saw no sign of pursuit.