“It must be confusing,” she said, smiling shyly at Dameon, “to feel what another feels. How can you tell it is not your own feeling?”
Dameon gave a soft laugh. “There are times when it is very confusing to be an empath,” he agreed.
By the time we came within sight of the gate to Vos’s property, we were cramped and hot, but despite my eagerness to get out of the wagon, I bade the horses wait until I farsought Dovyn. He told me that Rushton and the funaga had arrived and had subdued the funaga-li, and he bade me enter without fear.
Presently, Zade and Lo were unhitched from the wagon and released to join the other horses grazing peaceably on the homestead’s green lawn. The rest of us stretched our limbs gratefully, save Wenda who said she would remain in the wagon with Darius until he could be carried to a bed. Sover, standing by, heard her and promised to arrange it at once. He was that rarity, a coercer with secondary abilities as an empath.
He went into the house and returned with Rushton and several frightened-looking servants. As Zarak, Sover, and Harwood gently lifted the injured gypsy, Rushton greeted Noviny, who introduced his granddaughter, naming her a healer and explaining that she had been caring for Darius. Rushton bowed to the girl, thanking her so warmly for her care of the crippled gypsy that she blushed prettily. To my shame, I felt an ugly stab of jealousy at this proof that only I left the Master of Obernewtyn cold.
You are a fool, I told myself savagely, and felt Dameon flinch. Contrite, I reined in my emotions and forced myself to calmly ask Rushton what had happened upon their arrival. As he turned to answer me, I saw his reluctance, and it made me realize something that I had not known or maybe had not wanted to acknowledge. It was not that Rushton felt nothing for me. It was the opposite. It was as if he constantly struggled to control a powerful aversion to me. This thought gave me such pain that I nearly gasped, and I was glad for Dameon’s sake that he had moved away.
As if from a great distance, I heard Rushton explain that it had been a simple matter to take control, since Vos gave himself up as soon as he saw them ride in with Malik as their prisoner. The rebel leader had been horrified to learn Malik’s true intentions and insisted that he had known nothing of this dastardly plot, that everything from the barricades to the attempt to have himself made chieftain had been Malik’s idea. He had been tricked and bullied. Rushton said this speech had made Malik turn a look of such blazing fury on the rebel chieftain that Vos had nearly passed out. Vos was now confined to his room, as were those of his men whom Kevrik said could be trusted. The rest were in the cells.
As we all went inside the house, Rushton told Noviny that he and some of the knights would be taking Malik to Sutrium as soon as they had eaten.
“Perhaps you would like to come. I believe it would be far more effective for you to tell the Council of Chieftains what you saw that day from the cliff rather than our reporting it secondhand,” Rushton said.
I did not hear Noviny’s answer, because Linnet was telling me that she had prepared a room and a bath for me.
I sank blissfully to my neck in a bathing barrel filled with fragrant hot water. The air was full of steam and made me feel as if I had drifted into a dream, but I made myself wash my cuts and my hair until it floated about me like strands of black silk.
There was a soft knock at the door.
A swift probe revealed that it was Dameon and not Rushton, as my treacherous heart had hoped. “Come in,” I called, and after a slight hesitation, he entered, gasping a little at the clouds of steam that enveloped him, and then his face turned toward me unerringly.
“I have been sent to fetch you for the meal,” he said, standing in the doorway.
“I am just trying to summon the energy to get out,” I said.
Dameon smiled, but there was an awkwardness in his expression. For a moment, it came to me that he was troubled at my being in a bathing barrel, but then I chided myself for being absurd. Even if I had stood naked before the empath, he would not be able to see me. Something else must be bothering him. Ashamed that I had been so full of my own troubles and doings that I had not even thought to ask Dameon how he had been faring, I said, “Stay a little and talk to me, if you can bear the steam. There is a bench along the wall on your left where you can sit.”
He made his way to the seat so clumsily that I was startled. Dameon’s usual grace made it hard to believe that he did not see. Then I almost laughed as I realized he was in pain! I remembered all too well the awfulness of my early riding days, and I asked, as delicately as I could, how he felt. He took my meaning at once and laughed, seeming suddenly to relax.
“Wenda has given me some salve that I am told will help.” His smile faded. “In truth, I am more bothered by imagining you at Malik’s mercy than by my own small discomforts. Do you think he meant to kill you?”
“I think when he beat me in front of Vos, he was making a point to him and his men. But the more he hit me, the more he wanted to hit me.”
“I cannot bear to be near him,” Dameon confessed. “His hatred is like some putrid fountain whose noise and stench I cannot ignore.”
I sighed. “I wonder how the other rebels will react to all that has happened here. Especially those who have supported Malik.”
“Rushton wants to question him in front of the other chieftains to make sure we cannot be accused of falsifying anything. But it is my feeling that his former allies will discover they always suspected him of being a traitor,” Dameon said with rare cynicism. “Ironically, his treachery is more likely to bring peace and stability to the Land than anything anyone else has done, because no matter what the individual chieftains believe or how their desires conflict, none of them wants the Councilmen or the Herder Faction back. Their outrage at Malik’s betrayal will force the chieftains to stand united for the first time since the rebellion was won, and they will have to work together to meet this threat, rather than concentrating on their own regions. Rushton hopes that Dardelan will use the threat of invasion as a reason to postpone the elections a moon or so, and that will please the rebels, too. Indeed, it may be put off longer still if Dardelan decides to do as Zarak has suggested and take the ships, for he is certain to want to use them immediately to surprise those on the west coast.”
As he spoke, I climbed out of the barrel and began to towel myself. Dameon tilted his head, his sensitive hearing allowing him to track my movements as I padded over to the clothes Linnet had left me.
“Tell me how Maryon’s futuretelling came about,” I said, taking a towel to my hair again now that I was dressed.
Dameon nodded. “I was in a meeting with Rushton and the coercer-knights when one of the younger futuretellers came running in to say her mistress wanted us urgently. When we arrived at the Futuretell guildhall, Maryon was still drifting in and out of a trance. She told us much that seemed to have no meaning, but what was most important and unambiguous was that danger awaited you in Saithwold. The coercer-knights set up a great baying that you must be rescued. But Maryon bade them be silent, for she needed to think. Then she was quiet again for a long time. At last she said that no one must go after you, because a path awaited you in Saithwold that was yours alone to tread. There was some puzzlement at this, because Zarak at least would be with you, unless something was to happen to them. Rushton asked, but Maryon said she did not see anyone in your party coming to permanent harm. You were the only one in danger, and the probability of your surviving was high.
“Rushton asked what was so dangerous to you in particular, but Maryon just said there was danger there that would eventually threaten everyone in the Land and that your going to Saithwold would avert a catastrophe. Then she mentioned something about ships, which made no sense until you told us of the invasion and Zarak’s idea about capturing the ships.”
“So Rushton agreed to let things unfold as they would?” I asked coolly.
Dameon laughed. “He told Maryon in that icy, cutting tone he sometimes has, which is worse than being shouted at, tha
t she ought not to tell us someone was in danger if we were to do nothing about it. Maryon only said rather loftily that we would need to ride to your aid but not yet. She would let us know when it was the right time. And so she did, though it seems that you had managed everything by the time we arrived. Unless our part is to finish what you have begun by taking Malik to Sutrium.”
“You saved me from having to coerce Malik,” I said fervently. “For that I am more than grateful.”
Dameon stood and said gently that he had better go back to the others or they might think he had lost his way. At the door, he turned back to tell me that Gahltha and the prisoners—scathed and unscathed—from Malik’s camp had arrived and had been dealt with.
After he had gone, I crossed to the mirror that hung by the door to comb and plait my hair. Wiping the moisture from the glass’s surface, I grimaced at the sight of my battered face. Before the bath, many of the bruises and grazes had looked like dirt. But now that I was clean, I saw that the whole of one cheek and my temple were a mass of black and blue swelling around a long angry-looking gash. My lip was also swollen and split in two places, and I had a spectacular black eye.
I sighed and told myself I was lucky no one could see the bruises on my body.
THE PASSAGE WAS cold after the bathing room’s steamy warmth, and I shivered as I padded along it toward the front of the homestead. I farsent Gahltha briefly and learned that he was in the midst of speaking with the other horses, so I withdrew, promising to come and see him later.
I did not know where the kitchen was, but I followed my nose to the big front room where Vos had interviewed me to find the carved chair had vanished and the pompous dais had become a trestle laden with platters. There was no formal seating, and everyone was merely filling plates of food and going to sit about a fire in the enormous hearth. I was startled to see a number of strangers filling their plates. Near me an old woman with a ruddy face spoke intently to a stocky younger man wearing farm clothes and an air of authority, and closer to the fire, two older men and a young woman were talking with Noviny.
There was a brief hiatus as I entered and everyone saw my face. In that momentary silence, I had the strange sensation that they all saw me as I truly was: an outsider who had only seemed to belong.
“Hurry up, Guildmistress,” Zarak called, “or the savages will fall on this food I’ve managed to save for ye.” There was a burst of laughter from the coercers about him, and the feeling of remoteness faded as I made my way to the fire. Dameon smiled at me, seeming as ever to sense exactly where I was, and patted the seat beside him. Only then did I notice Maruman sitting on his lap, glaring balefully at me.
“Maruman!” I cried softly. But when I reached for him, the old cat hissed and turned his head away. I tried to enter his mind, but it was closed to me.
Dameon winced, giving me some indication of the level of Maruman’s ire, and said, “Rushton sent Harwood and Yarrow to get him, and they only just returned. I am afraid Maruman did not much enjoy the ride.”
I was grateful to Rushton for his thoughtfulness, though I had no doubt he had done it as much for Maruman as for me, for he had always been fond of the old cat. And I ought not to be surprised that Maruman was angry, since Gahltha had warned me that he had regarded my failure to return to the farmstead as a personal affront. An affronted Maruman was a formidable prospect, and I sat down and regarded him with longing. I took the plate Zarak handed me, asking, “Who are the strangers?”
“A couple are Vos’s men that your Kevrik says can be trusted, and the others are locals Noviny sent for after Rushton asked him to summon a few of the leading members of this community capable of making serious decisions about Saithwold now that Vos and his followers have been ousted.”
“But surely Noviny will—” I began.
“He would take over. Indeed, these locals asked it of him the moment he told them what had been happening. But Noviny has agreed to ride to Sutrium tonight with Rushton,” Dameon said.
“If it were only a matter of governin’ Saithwold, it could wait until he returns,” Zarak put it. “They’re takin’ Vos with them as well,” he added, scowling. “As a witness.”
“A witness!” I echoed wrathfully. “He meant to cheat in the elections, he allowed your father to be tortured, and he unlawfully imprisoned Noviny and the others of his own free will! And he was going to let one of Malik’s men kill Darius and torture you!”
Dameon laid a restraining hand on my arm, nodding pointedly at Maruman sleeping in his lap. But he only said, “A contrite and helpful Vos will be of far more use than a resentful prisoner, since he will not be disagreeing with everything that is said and defending himself. Indeed, he has already voluntarily handed chieftainship of Saithwold to Noviny, saying it has been a burden that he is glad to set down, if you can believe it.”
“I can believe he said it,” I replied, determined that once the invasion had been dealt with, I would lay charges against Vos to the Council of Chieftains.
Rushton raised his voice to announce that he and Noviny and some of the others would ride to Sutrium with Malik within the hour. “Other than that, I want to remind you of the urgent need to make sure that word of what has happened does not leak out of this province. For that reason, neither barricade will be removed at this time. Some of Vos’s men, recommended to us by Kevrik, will man it so nothing here will appear to have changed. A coercer will be at each barrier at all times, dressed as an armsman and ready to probe those wanting to enter the region, in case they serve Malik. Those wearing demon bands are to be taken prisoner and coerced after their bands are removed to see if they are aligned with Malik. Malik’s camp will be reconstructed and peopled by coercers clad in his colors. Anyone who comes to the camp for any reason is to be taken prisoner.”
He glanced at the little group of townsmen. “Life here should appear unchanged to those outside this room, until we can find out what Malik knows and High Chieftain Dardelan summons a force to deal with the invaders. By my reckoning, that will take no more than a threeday.”
He added that after the invasion had been dealt with, those armsmen who had served Malik would be taken to Sutrium to be judged, but for the time being they would remain in cells beneath the homestead.
Then he turned again to the townsfolk. “We are relying upon you locals to monitor your neighbors and make sure you do all you can to prevent any rumor starting about changes here,” he told them sternly. “I know that some of you are concerned about being dishonest to friends and even family, but console yourself that this is for a short period and that it is only to protect them and the Land. Soon you will vote for a new leader, and both peace and freedom will return to Saithwold province.”
“It will return when Noviny is chieftain,” said a woman whom I suddenly recognized as the one who had served Wenda and me in the shop. Those about her laughed and said aye, and Rushton smiled, too, dropping his stern expression for a moment. Then he continued seriously. “I have no doubt who you will choose to lead you when you are free, but for now, remember that it is Noviny who chose you to serve Saithwold through the dangerous days that lie ahead. I leave here the head of the coercer-knights, Linnet, to advise you and to aid you, as well as to perform the duties I have mentioned. If you have any trouble or fear during this time, send a messenger to seek out Linnet, and she or another knight will come to your assistance. If you see her and the other knights about with Vos’s men or even Malik’s men, have no fear. They will be coercing them.
“Finally,” Rushton continued, his eyes moving to the fire where I sat between Zarak and Dameon, “Elspeth, guildmistress of the farseekers, who has been instrumental in defeating Malik and freeing Saithwold and is a powerful coercer, and Dameon, who is guildmaster of the empaths at Obernewtyn, will remain to act as joint chieftains until Noviny returns. Know that it was Noviny’s suggestion and one of which I heartily approve. They will coordinate the activities of the coercer-knights, and for the time being, it is to them you must
look when you need guidance.”
I clenched my teeth, outraged that Rushton had not bothered to consult me before deciding that I would remain in Saithwold rather than go on to Sutrium. As if he felt my indignation, Rushton’s eyes, green and unreadable, met mine briefly. Then he turned to speak to one of Vos’s armsmen. The noise level rose again, but instead of engaging in the conversations about me, I picked at the food on my plate, my appetite gone.
Maruman turned to glower at me and leapt down from Dameon’s lap to stalk over to a partially opened window. I half rose to go after him, but Dameon caught my arm to stay me, saying gently, “Let him go, Elspeth. You are too emotional to deal with him right now.”
Knowing he was right, I sat back down. Rushton was coming toward the fire with Noviny and Linnet. The older man was describing the Herder warriors’ training exercises, which he had witnessed, and gradually the heat in my anger faded as I listened, for he might have been describing coercer training, with its emphasis on breathing and balance as well as on strength. Noviny added that the warrior priests’ favored weapons were a short metal-shod pole and a handheld sickle-shaped blade.
Noviny went on to say that although the warrior priests wore robes and had their heads shaven, there were distinct differences between them and ordinary priests, even in their attire. The tunics of the warrior priests were a much darker gray than the traditional pale gray worn by Herders and were split on one side so they could reach their weapons, which they carried in holsters attached to belts.
Hearing this, Linnet suggested they must see themselves more as warriors than priests.
“I am not sure that is true,” Noviny said. “When I heard the warrior priests speak and move about, it seemed that they see their weapons and their ability to fight as a kind of prayer that they dedicate to Lud. For them, fighting is praying.”