Well Of Shiuan Part 21

"Jhirun," said Morgaine, "go watch the road with Kithan."

Jhirun looked from one to the other of them, but ventured no word in objection: she started away, leading her horse down the long aisle of slanting spires to the place where Kithan sat, a shadow among shadows.

"Vanye," said Morgaine softly, "would thee go to him? Would thee take what he offers?"

"No," he protested upon the instant. "No, upon my oath, I would not."

"Do not swear too quickly," she said; and when he would have disputed her: "Listen to me: this one order-go to him, surrender-go with him."

He could not answer for a moment; the words were dammed in his throat, refusing utterance.

"My order," she said.

"This is a deception of yours," he said, indignant that she did not take him into her trust, that she thus played games with him. "You are full of them. I do not think that I deserve it, liyo."

"Vanye-if I cannot get through, one of us must. I am well known; I am disaster to you. But you-go with him, swear to his service; learn what he can teach you that I have not. And kill him, and go on as I would do."

"Liyo," he protested. A shiver set into his limbs; he wound his cold fingers into the black horse's mane, for all that he had trusted dropped away beneath him, as the mountains had vanished that morning beyond the Gate, leaving an about him naked and ugly.

"You are Ilin," she said. "And you take no guilt for it"

'To take bread and warmth and then kill a man?"

"Did I ever promise thee I had honor? It was otherwise, I think."

"Oath-breaking... Liyo, even to him-"

"One of us," she said between her teeth, "one of us must get through. Remain sworn to me in your mind, but let your mouth say whatever it must. Live. He will not suspect you; he will come to trust you. And this is the service I set on you: kill him, and carry out what I have shown you, without end-without end. Win. Will you do this for me?"

"Aye," he said at last; and in his bitterness: "I must"

Take Kithan and Jhirun; make some tale that Ron will believe, how Ohtij-in has fallen, of your release by Kithan- omitting my part in it. Let him believe you desperate. Bow at his feet and beg shelter of him. Do whatever you must but stay alive, and pa.s.s the Gate, and carry out my orders-to the end of your life, Nhi Vanye, and beyond if thee can contrive it."

For a long moment he said nothing; he would have wept if he had tried to speak, and in his anger he did not want that further shame. Then he saw a trail of moisture shine on her cheek, and it shook him more than all else that she had said.

"Be rid of the Honor-blade," she said. "It will raise a question with him you cannot answer."

He drew it and gave it to her. "Avert," he murmured, the word almost catching in his throat; she echoed the wish, and slipped it through her belt.

"Beware your companions," she said.

"Aye," he answered.

"Go. Make haste."

He would have bowed himself at her feet, an Ilin taking final, unwilling leave; but she prevented him with a hand on his arm. The touch numbed: for a moment he hesitated with a thing spilling over in him that wanted saying, and she, all unexpected, leaned forward and touched her lips to his, a light touch, quickly gone. It robbed him of speech; the moment pa.s.sed, and she turned to take up the reins of her horse. What he would have said seemed suddenly a plea for himself, and she would not hear it; there would be dispute, and that was not the parting he wanted.

He hurled himself into the saddle, and she did likewise, and rode with him as far as the crossing of the road and the aisle, the arch that led through into Abarais, where Jhirun and Kithan awaited them.

"We are going on," he said to them, the words strange and ugly to him, "we three."

They looked puzzled, dismayed. They said nothing, asked nothing; perhaps the look of the two of them, ilin and liyo, made a barrier against them. He turned his horse into the pa.s.sage, into the dark, and they went with him. Suddenly he looked back, in dread that Morgaine would already be gone.

She was not. She was a shadow, she and Siptah, against the light behind them, waiting.

Fwar and his kind, whatever remained of them, would be coming. Suddenly he realized the set of her mind: the Barrows-folk, that she once had led-ages hence. There was a bond between them, an ill dream that was recent in her mind, a geas apart from Changeling. He remembered her at the Suvoj, sweeping man after man away into oblivion-and the thing that he had seen in her eyes.

They were your own, Kithan had protested, even a qujal appalled at what she had done. They followed her; she waited for them this time, as time after time he had feared she might turn and face them, her peculiar nightmare, that would not let her go.

She waited, while the Gate prepared to seal. Here she stopped running; and laid all her burden upon him. Tears blurred his eyes; he thought wildly of riding back, refusing what she had set him to do.

And that she would not forgive.

They exited the pa.s.sage into the light of rising Li, saw the valley of Abarais before them, the jagged spires of ruins, and in the far distance-campfires scattered like stars across the mountains: the host of all Shiuan.

He looked back; he could not see Morgaine any longer.

He rammed the spurs into the gelding's flanks and led his companions toward the fires.

Chapter Eighteen.

The vast disc of Li inclined toward the horizon. There was a stain of cloud at that limit of the sky, and wisps of cloud drifted across the moon-track overhead.

The sinking moon yet gave them light enough for quick traveling-light enough too for their enemies. They were exposed, in constant view from the cliffs that towered on either side of the road, above the ruins. Ambush was a constant possibility: Vanye feared it with a distant fear, not for himself, but for the orders he had been given-the only thing he had left, he thought, that was worth concern. That at some moment a shaft aimed from those cliffs should come bursting leather and mail links and bone-the pain would be the less for it, and quickly done, unlike the other, that was forever.

Until you have no choice, her words echoed back to him, a persistent misery, a fact that would not be denied. Until you have no choice-as I have none.

Once Jhirun spoke to him; he did not know what she had said, nor care-only stared at her, and she fell silent; and Kithan likewise stared at him, pale eyes sober and present, purged of the akil that had clouded them.

And the watchfires grew nearer, spreading before them like a field of stars, red and angry constellations across their way, that began to dim at last like those in the heavens, with the first edge of day showing.

There is nothing left," Vanye told his companions, realizing that their time grew short, "only to surrender to my cousin and hope for his forbearance."

They were silent, Jhirun next to him and Kithan beyond. Their faces held that same restrained fear that had possessed them since they had been hastened, without explanation, from An-Abarais. They still did not ask, nor demand a.s.surances of him. Perhaps they already knew he had none to give.

"At An-Abarais," he continued while they rode, walking the horses, "we learned that there was no choice. My liege has released me." He suppressed the tremor that would come to his voice, set the muscles of his jaw and continued, beginning to weave the lie that he would use for Roh. "There is more kindness in her than is apparent-for my sake, if not for yours. She knows the case of things, that Roh might accept me, but never her. You are nothing to her; she simply does not care. But Roh hates her above all other enemies; and the less he knows of what truly pa.s.sed at Ohtij-in, the more readily he will take me-and you. If he knows that I have come directly from her, and you likewise from her company-he will surely kill me; and for me, he has some affection. I leave it to you how much he would hesitate in your case."

Still they said nothing, but the apprehension was no less in their eyes.

"Say that Ohtij-in fell in the quake," he asked of them, "and say that the marshlanders attacked when Aren fell-say whatever you like of the truth; but do not let him know that we entered An-Abarais. Only she could have pa.s.sed its doors and learned what she learned. Forget altogether that she was with us, or I shall die; and I do not think that I will be alone in that."

Of Jhirun he was sure; there was a debt between them. But there was one of a different nature between himself and Kithan: it was the qujal that he feared, and the qujal that he most needed to confirm his lie as truth.

And Kithan knew it: those unhuman eyes took on a consciousness of power, and a smug amus.e.m.e.nt.

"And if it is not Roh who gives the orders," Kithan said, "if it is Hetharu, what shall I say, Man?"

"I do not know," Vanye said. "But a father-slayer will hardly stick at brother-killing; and he will share nothing with you . . . not unless he loves you well. Do you think that is so, Kithan Bydarra'son?"

Kithan considered it, and the smugness faded rapidly.

"How well," Kithan asked, scowling, "does your cousin love you?"

"I will serve him," Vanye answered, finding the words strange to his lips. "I am an ilin now without a master; and we are of Andur-Kursh, he and I ... you do not understand, but it means that Roh will take me with him, and I will serve him as his right hand; and that is something he cannot find elsewhere. I need you, my lord Kithan, and you know it; I need you to set myself at Roh's side, and you know that you can destroy me with an ill-placed word. But likewise you need me-else you will have to deal with Hetharu; and you know that I bear Hetharu a grudge. You do not love him. Stand by me; and I will give you Hetharu, even if it takes time."

Kithan considered, his lips a thin line. "Aye," he said, "I do follow your reasoning. But, Nhi Vanye, there are two men of mine that may undo it all."

Vanye recalled that, the house guards that had fled, that added a fresh weight of apprehension to his mind; he shrugged. "We cannot amend that. It is a large camp. If I were in the place of such men, I would not rush to authority and boast that I had deserted my lord."

"Are you not doing so now?" Kithan asked.

Heat flamed in his face. "Yes," he admitted hoa.r.s.ely. "By her leave; but those are details Roh need not know . . . only that Ohtij-in has fallen, and that we are escaped from it."

Kithan considered that a moment "I will help you," he said. "Perhaps my word can bring you to your cousin. Seeing Hetharu discomfited will be pleasure enough to reward me."

Vanye stared at him, weighing the truth behind that cynical gaze, and looked questioningly also at Jhirun, past whom they had been talking. She looked afraid in that reckoning, as if she, a peasant, knew her worth in the affairs of lords who strove for power.

"Jhirun?" he questioned her.

"I want to live," she said. He looked into the fierceness of that determination and doubted, suddenly; perhaps she saw it, for her lips tightened. "I will stay with you," she said then.

Tears shone in her eyes, of pain or fear or what other cause he did not know, nor spare further thought to wonder. He had no care for either of them, Myya nor halfling lord, only so they did not ruin him. His mind was already racing apace, to the encamped thousands that lay ahead, beginning to plot what approach they might make so that none would slay them out of hand.

Whatever their need for haste, it could be measured by the fact that none of the horde that followed Rob had yet begun to move: the watchfires still glowed in the murky beginnings of dawn. It was best, he thought, to ride in slowly, as many a party must have done, come to join the movement that flowed toward the Well: anxiously he measured the rising light against the distance to the far edge of the fires, and liked not the reckoning. They could not make it all before the light showed them for the ill-a.s.sorted companions they were. But there was no other course that promised better.

Soon they rode out of the ruin altogether, and among the stumps of young trees, saplings that had been hewn off the beginning slope of the mountain-for shelters, or to feed the fires of the camp. And soon enough they rode within scent of cookfires, and the sound of voices.

Sentries started from their posts, seizing up spears and advancing on them. Vanye kept riding at a steady pace, the others with him; and when they had come close in the dim light, the sentries-dark-haired Men-stood confused by the sight of them and backed away, making no challenge. Perhaps it was the presence of Kithan, Vanye thought, resisting the temptation to look back; or perhaps-the thought came to him with peculiar irony-it was himself, cousin to Roh, similar in arms and even in mount, for the two horses, Roh's mare and his gelding, were of the same hold and breeding.

They entered the camp, that sprawled in disorder on either side of the paved road. At a leisurely pace they rode past the wretched Shiua, who huddled drowsing by their fires, or looked up and stared with furtive curiosity at what pa.s.sed them in the dawning.

"We must find the Well," Vanye observed softly; "I trust that is where we will find Roh."

"Road's-end," answered Kithan, and nodded toward the way ahead, that began to wind up to the shoulder of the mountains. "The Old Ones built high."

Somewhere a horn sounded, thin and far, a lonely sound off the mountain-slopes. Over and over it sounded, sending the echoes tumbling off the valley walls; and about them the camp began to stir. Voices began to be heard, strained with excitement; fires began to be extinguished, sending up plumes of smoke.

Jhirun looked from one side to the other in apprehension. "They are beginning to move," she said. "Lord, surely the Well is open, and they are beginning to move."

It was true: everywhere men were stripping shelters and gathering their meager belongings; children were crying and animals were bawling in alarm and disturbance. In moments, those lightest burdened had begun to seek the road, pouring out onto that way that led them to the Well.

Roh's gift, Vanye thought, his heart pained for the treason he felt, his human soul torn by the sight of the overburdened folk about him, that edged from the path of their horses. Morgaine would have doomed them; but they were going to live.

He came, to bow at Roh's feet-and one day to kill him; and by that, to betray these folk: he saw himself, an evil presence gently threading his way among them, whose faces were set in a delirious and desperate hope.

He served Morgaine.

There was at least a time you chose for yourself, she had said.

Thee will not appoint thyself my conscience, Nhi Vanye. Thee is not qualified.

He began to know.

With a grimace of pain he laid spurs and the reins' ends to the black gelding, startling Shiua peasants from his path, frightened folk yielding to him and his two companions, that held close behind him. Faces tore away in the dim light before him, stark with fear and dismay.

The road wound steeply upward. An archway rose athwart it, ma.s.sive and strange. They pa.s.sed beneath, pa.s.sed through the vanguard of the human ma.s.ses that toiled up the heights, and suddenly rode upon forces of qujal, demon-helmed and bristling with lances, whose women rode with them, pale-haired ladies in glittering cloaks, and, very few among them, a cl.u.s.ter of pale, grave-eyed children, who stared at the intrusion with the sober mien of their elders.

A band of qujal amid that ma.s.s reined themselves across the road, where its turning made pa.s.sage difficult, with a dizzying plunge into depths on the right hand. Authority was among them, bare-headed, white hair streaming in the wind; and his men ranged themselves before him.

Vanye reined back and reached for his sword. "No," Kithan said at once. "They are Sotharra. They will not stop us."

Uneasily Vanye conceded the approach to Kithan, rode at his shoulder and with Jhirun at his own rein hand, as they drew to a slow halt before the halflings, with levelled pikes all about them.

Little Kithan had to say to them: a handful of words, of which one was Ohtij-in and another was Roh and another was Kithan's own name; and the Sotharra lord straightened in his saddle, and reined aside, the pikes of his men-at-arms flourishing up and away.

But when they had ridden through, the Sotharra rode behind them at their pace; and Vanye ill-liked it, though it gave them pa.s.sage through the other ma.s.ses of halflings that rode the winding ascent Hereafter was no retreat: he was committed to the hands of qujal, to trust Kithan, who could say what he wished to them.

And if Roh had already pa.s.sed, and if it were Hetharu who must approve his pa.s.sage: Vanye drove that thought from his mind.

A turning of the road brought them suddenly into sight of a round hill, ringed about by throngs of halfling folk: the horses slowed of their own accord, snorting, walking skittishly, weary as they were.

It grew upon the senses, that oppression that Vanye knew of Gates, that nerve-p.r.i.c.kling unease that made the skin feel raw and the senses over-weighted. It was almost sound, and not. It was almost touch, and not.

He saw the place to which they went, in a day that yet had a murkiness in its pastel clouds: there were tents; there were horses; and the road came to an end in a place shadowed by slanted spires.

And the Well.

It was a circle of Standing Stones, like that of Hiuaj: not a single Gate, but a gathering of them, and they were alive. Opal colors streamed within them, like illusion in the daylight, a constant interplay of powers that filled the air with uneasiness; but one Gate held the azure blue of sky, that was terrible with depth, that made the eyes ache with beholding it.

Kithan swore.

"They are real," the qujal said. "They are real."

Vanye forced the reluctant gelding to a steady walk, shouldered into Jhirun's mare by a sudden rebellion of the horse, and saw Jhirun's eyes, dazed, still fixed upon the horror of the Gates; her hand was at her throat, where bits of metal and a white feather and a stone cross offered her what belief she knew. He spoke her name, sharply, and she tore her gaze from the hillside and kept by his side.

The camp at the base of the hill was already astir. Shouts attended their arrival, voices thin and lost in that heaviness of the air. Men fair-haired and armored gathered to stare at them: "Kithan Roktija" Vanye heard whispered: he unhooked his sword and rode with it across the saddle as they rode slowly past pale, gray-eyed faces, forcing a way until the press grew too thick to do so without violence.

Kithan asked a question of them. It received quick answer; and Kithan raised his eyes toward the edge of the hill and reined in that direction. Vanye stayed beside him, Jhirun's mare at his flank as the hedge of weapons slowly parted, letting them pa.s.s. He heard his own name spoken, and Bydarra's; he saw the sullen, wondering faces, the hateful looks, the hands that gripped weapons: Bydarra's accused murderer-he kept his face impa.s.sive and kept the horse moving steadily in Kithan's wake.

Riders came through the crowd, demon-helmed and armored, spreading out, shouldering the crowd aside, spreading out athwart their path. An order was shouted: and among them, central amid a hedge of pikemen, rode an all-too-familiar figure, silver-haired, with the beauty of the qujal and the eyes of a man.

Hetharu.