04c Dreams of Fire and Gods: Gods (8 page)

He’d felt hot ever since leaving the infirmary. Was it possible he had some malady? It seemed ludicrous to think the goddess would snatch him from death and restore his body, only to allow him to die from fever or influenza. No, the “fever” had been with him since the goddess restored him, so it must be a symptom of that, along with his newfound strength and his inability to sleep. But the dizziness….

“Are you feeling dizzy?” he asked Unid.

“No,” the old woman replied. “A trifle weary, after all that walking, but not dizzy. I take it you are?”

“A bit.”

She frowned. “Well, have some more water, and I’ll dig out something for you to eat. Then you can rest awhile, before we move on.”

As much as he appreciated the woman’s kindness, Gonim suspected that resting wouldn’t help him. The dizziness had come on right when they entered the valley, and there had been rumors going around of the emperor’s soldiers falling completely unconscious when they tried to do the same. Was this why he couldn’t sleep, Gonim wondered? Had Imen’s servant woman done something to him so that he couldn’t fall unconscious under any circumstances?

He began to wonder if they might discover a city of sleeping people when they entered Harleh, like something out of one of the fanciful folktales he’d heard as a child. But no, that couldn’t be true. Some of the
vek
’s men claimed to have gone into Harleh and returned, and even if they were lying, Seirit and Unid were proof that some were unaffected by the mist.

Gonim rested and allowed Unid to fuss over him a short time. Then he lied to her about feeling better so they could start moving again. “As soon as we get to Harleh,” he assured her, “I’ll go to the temple. They’ll have healers there.”

Whether that was true, he had yet to discover. The
ömem
in Harleh might very well be refusing their services, as those in Worlen were.

The dizziness wasn’t so bad he couldn’t walk, but he was grateful when Seirit dug out a spare walking stick from the cart and handed it to him. The old man and his wife were using walking sticks of their own.

Walking became easier for all of them where the road leveled out onto what had once been the plain. The forest that loomed on either side was still unsettling, however, so Unid attempted to keep up a steady stream of banter to distract them, chatting with her husband about the last time they’d visited Döv and Inokh and how little the children had been at the time. Occasionally, she asked Gonim polite questions about his life at the temple. Much of a
caedan
’s—or a
tadu
’s—life was kept secret from the uninitiated, but Gonim was happy to answer what questions he could.

It was late in the day when they came to the edge of the forest and found Harleh before them, its massive circular outer wall looming high over their heads. But their sense of relief at having reached their destination was immediately muted by the sight of the pavilions. They were the type of pavilions often set up near a battlefield, where wounded soldiers could be tended by
ömem
and their assistants, but there were so many of them that they surrounded the keep, and each seemed to contain hundreds of soldiers.

“Imen have mercy!” Unid gasped, when she saw them.

Rumors had reached Worlen of the emperor’s army laying siege to Harleh. Were these soldiers from that battle? It had been weeks ago. Could there still be so many wounded? Gonim could see that many of them wore the emperor’s colors—in fact, all of them appeared to. Normally, when enemy soldiers were captured, they might have their wounds attended to, but they were then returned to the enemy encampment, if they weren’t healthy enough to be kept with the soldiers being ransomed. This was considered both honorable and practical. An army rarely had the resources to care for soldiers not its own.

As he and his companions followed the road through the center of the pavilions, Gonim saw Harleh soldiers standing guard in the pavilions and women who appeared to be nurses, but his suspicion appeared to be correct. There were no
ömem
among them.

The soldiers standing guard merely nodded at them as they passed, and soon the road curved around to the west gate of the city. Here a small village nestled against the outer wall, houses and shops lining both sides of the road before it passed through the gate.

“This doesn’t bode well,” Seirit muttered under his breath. He was looking at the squatter’s camp on the outer edge of the village—hundreds of tents and lean-tos where people were huddling near open campfires and preparing their evening meals.

The gate into the city was heavily guarded and, as they approached, one of the men stepped forward to greet them with a stern look on his face. “Do you have a pass?”

“A pass?” Gonim asked.

“Without a pass, I can’t let you go inside the wall. You’ll have to camp outside.”

Unid gave out a faint cry of dismay, and Seirit placed a protective arm around her shoulders. “We have family inside,” the old man insisted.

“I’m sorry, grandfather, but we’re overrun. We already have people camping in the streets in there. It isn’t safe.”

“But we’ve come all this way to stay with my sister,” Unid protested.

The guard’s stern expression wavered a bit when he saw the look of despair in her eyes, but he replied, “If your sister arranges a pass for you, then I can let you in.”

“Can you take a message to her, then?”

“The city guard does not deliver messages. You’ll have to find someone with a pass to take a message to her.”

“What of our friend here?” Unid said, trying another tack. “He belongs in the temple. You can’t keep him out here.” She hesitated, perhaps debating whether to mention that Gonim was ill, but Gonim was relieved that she did not. It might have given the guard one more reason to keep them all out.

The guard looked him over a moment, then said, “Well, I suppose I can let you go to the temple,
tadu
.”

Gonim felt no joy at being allowed entry when Unid and Seirit were being kept from their family, but Unid seemed pleased. “Thank you, sir.” She pulled Gonim aside and said to him, “Will you seek out Döv
for us, after you’ve reported to the temple?”

“Of course.”

“Thank you!” She beamed at him. “You’ll find her in the third ring. Someone there should know her. She takes in washing.” At that, Unid gave him a quick kiss on the cheek.

Gonim smiled at the old woman and took one of her hands in both of his. “Stay well, Unid. I promise to find your sister as soon as I can.”

He clasped Seirit’s shoulder and then turned back to the guard. The man stepped aside and motioned with his hand for Gonim to pass through the gate. “Welcome to Harleh,
tadu
. May your stay be a pleasant one.”

T
HE
south courtyard had become a hedge maze. No, worse, Sael reflected. The maze wasn’t composed merely of yew and cedar hedges, but also had stone walls that hadn’t existed in the courtyard a mere day ago. Apart from the hedge, and two guards posted by each entrance, the courtyard appeared to be empty.

“What is all this?” his father asked sharply as they approached. He didn’t raise his voice, particularly, but it could still be heard clearly in the enclosed space.

Sael thought he heard giggling—the giggling of a woman—coming from somewhere in the maze, followed by what sounded like young men snickering. The
vek
looked as if he were about to boil over.

Fortunately, before that could happen, Master Geilin called out from the depths of the maze, “Your Grace! Forgive me. I will be with you momentarily.”

At that, the stone wall immediately before them melted into the cobblestones like warm butter, leaving no trace that there had been anything there just a moment before. Behind it, branches of yew curled to one side, forming a direct path into the center of the maze, where Master Geilin stood with four others—three young men Sael only vaguely recognized and… Tanum.

Geilin bowed formally, his students imitating him. “Your Grace. Your Lordship.”

“Master Geilin,” the
vek
said coolly. “Might I have a word with you in private?”

Geilin walked calmly forward, a stone wall rising up out of the cobblestones behind him to prevent his students from listening in on the conversation.

“I don’t recall giving my permission for Lady Tanum to be included in your classes,” the
vek
told him when he drew near.

Geilin looked perplexed. “I’m very sorry, Your Grace. Lady Tanum informed me that she was free to join us.”

“She is not.”

“Father,” Sael interrupted. “Tanum and I spoke of it before Koreh and I went into the mountains.” He hadn’t exactly agreed to let Tanum train, but he wasn’t opposed to lying in order to help Master Geilin and Tanum save face.

Fortunately, his father didn’t see fit to grill him on the subject. Though he looked at his son with an expression like someone who’s just bitten into a lemon, he turned to Geilin and asked, “These boys…. Clearly you’ve not chosen your apprentices from among the
vönan
.”

“I did try, Your Grace,” the wizard replied. “But it’s a big step for a
vönan
to deliberately sever himself from the power of the Stronni, even though we’ve been cut off from it for several weeks now. None are yet willing to take it. They are all watching me to see if I burst into flame or, worse, become powerless.”

“I suppose we can’t blame them.”

Geilin shook his head and ran a hand over the spot where his tattoo had once been. He’d mentioned to Sael recently that it didn’t exactly hurt, but he could feel that it was missing. “No, Your Grace. But although I’ve found my training as a
vönan
an aid to learning Taaweh magic, the Taaweh themselves insist it isn’t essential. All men—and women—have the ability to learn it.”

Sael saw his father’s eye twitch at the obvious reference to Tanum, so he attempted to redirect the conversation. “Those young men looked familiar,” he said. “Who are their families?”

“They are stableboys!” his father snapped.

Sael was taken aback by this, but Geilin seemed unperturbed. “Only Nalekh lives in the stables, Your Grace. I believe his family resides in Tessam. Bol and Ahvi are brothers, and they live in the servants’ quarters.”

“The servants’ quarters?” Sael was just as surprised as his father. Master Geilin was creating a new order of mages… out of
servants
?

“They were the only volunteers, Your Lordship,” Geilin explained patiently.

The
vek
sniffed. Then with an air of resignation, he asked, “Have they made any progress?”

“Today is their first day. It will take some time.”

“How
much
time?”

Geilin merely spread his hands to indicate he had no idea.

The
vek
gave him the bored half smile he normally reserved for servants he’d grown weary of talking to. “Carry on, then.”

Sael had no doubt that Geilin sensed the disapproval behind that smile, but the old man merely nodded and said, “Thank you, Your Grace. Your Lordship.”

He bowed formally and left them to return to his students, the stone wall melting away as he approached it.

Sael’s father muttered under his breath, “I confess I’m skeptical about how useful these new ‘mages’ will prove to be,” before heading back toward to the keep. Sael fell into step behind him.

This courtyard was somewhat smaller than the main courtyard, and it was bordered with decorative wading pools in the four corners and near the entrance. When Sael began to walk past one of these, something reflected in the water caught his eye, and he slowed to get a better look.

It was Koreh.

Not a ghostly apparition, but a very clear view of Koreh’s face and shoulders against a bright blue sky. The angle put his face in shadow, but there was enough light reflected up at him—rippling as though he were peering down into a moving river—that there was no mistaking it was him. His eyes lit up with recognition, as though he could see Sael too. Their eyes locked for just a brief moment, before something dark seemed to swim between them and the vision disappeared.

Sael staggered and made a grab for something to steady himself and was surprised to find his father there, though the man had been ahead of him a moment earlier. Sael’s hand gripped the
vek
’s strong forearm tightly as he fought back the wave of grief that threatened to overwhelm him.

“Are you ill?” his father asked. “How do you summon that blasted Taaweh physician?” He was reacting with his usual haughtiness, but Sael could hear the note of concern in his voice.

“I’m all right, Father,” Sael told him, though he didn’t feel all right. His heart felt as if it were being wrenched out of his chest. “Just… a little lightheaded.”

It couldn’t have been Koreh. It had to have been a trick of the light.

But it was so clear.

“Have you eaten anything this morning?” the
vek
asked. Then without bothering to wait for an answer, he said, “Let’s get you inside. I’ll have something brought up from the kitchen.”