The Lesser Kindred (ttolk-2) (26 page)

"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.