Darknesses (52 page)

A
ll
through supper,
in between bites, Alucius talked, recounting everything
from his initial departure from Emal through the attack of the bravos—and even
the role of the soarer, and her observations about the ifrits and the Duarchy.

“You
think she was telling you the truth?” asked Royalt. “Seems…well…strange…”

“She
was telling the truth,” Wendra said.

Both
Lucenda and Royalt looked at the younger woman.

Wendra
smiled politely and asked her husband, “Where do you think this hidden city
is?”

“I
don’t know. But if I had to guess…” Alucius glanced eastward.

“That’d
make sense,” Royalt said slowly. “Few enough would risk a climb of more than
six thousand yards straight up. A few fellows tried, years back. Three died,
one never walked straight again. Only got up about two thousand yards.”

“Also…the
oblong crystals…I wonder if they’re what we sometimes see at sunrise and
sunset,” Alucius said.

“That
could be,” mused Lucenda. “but do you think that they’re telling you
everything?”

“I
doubt they are. From what I’ve seen, though, I’d trust them further than I’d
trust any of the ifrits.”

“That’s
probably so,” agreed Royalt. “Soarers don’t cause trouble Haven’t for years.
What about the Lord-Protector? You think he can be trusted to keep his word?
You sure he didn’t have anything to do with that last attack?”

“I’d
stake just about anything on that.” Alucius took another sip of the ale. “I
wouldn’t put it past his brother. Waleryn makes sandsnakes look harmless—but it
takes time to organize something like that attack, and we traveled fast back
from Tempre.” He shook his head. “Someone in Dekhron…it had to be.”

“That
cowardly cur Weslyn?” asked Royalt.

“No.
Weslyn’s a coward, and he had something to do with it—maybe provided the
information and had me delayed in leaving Dekhron—but he didn’t set it up. It
has to be one of the traders in Dekhron…but who? I wouldn’t even know where to
start.”

“Kustyl
might,” suggested Royalt.

“Have
him be very careful,” Alucius said.

Royalt
laughed. “He can be very indirect when it suits him.”

“Have
him be more indirect than that,” suggested Alucius, finishing the last of his
ale. He shrugged, as if to ask if they had any more questions.

“Are
you ready for some rest?” asked Lucenda.

“No.
I’m tired, and I’m still sore. But I’m not sleepy. I’d just like to sit in the
main room and spend some time with Wendra.”

Both
Lucenda and Royalt laughed.

Alucius
found himself flushing and, glancing at Wendra, saw that she was as well.

Royalt
stood. “I’m going down to check on the nightsheep.”

Lucenda
stood as well. “I’ll take care of the dishes. Wendra—take him into the main
room.” She paused and looked at Alucius. “Would it be better to stretch out?”

“Right
now…sitting actually is easier.” Alucius stood, carefully. He felt better, and
he wondered if some of that had come from Wendra when their lifethreads had
touched and melded for that long moment. “I feel much better, already.”

“Good,”
replied Wendra with a smile.

Alucius
walked into the main room, where he settled onto the settee and glanced at his
wife, then at the space beside him.

“Are
you sure?” she asked.

“I’m
very sure.”

Wendra
eased beside him, on his right side.

Alucius
turned his head and murmured into her ear, “You did something…with your
Talent.”

“How
could I not?” she murmured back. “You hurt so much. I could feel it when you
were almost a vingt away. I don’t see how you rode so far that way.”

“I
wanted to see you. I wanted to come home.”

She
reached out and squeezed his hand gently. “I’m glad, but you could have
waited.”

“No…I
couldn’t.”

She
smiled, and for a time, they sat quietly, Alucius leaning his head against
Wendra’s, just enjoying the quiet and her warmth and welcome.

Then,
Wendra turned and looked at him. “You don’t think this is over, do you?”

“No.
Nothing is over, not until we’re dead, and after what I saw with the Tables,
I’m not sure about that. In some ways, though, there’s little we can do now.
There’s no certainty of anything, at present. One of the few things I am sure
of, from what I’ve seen, is that the greatest evils come when someone willfully
creates misery and pain and forces other people to do evil in order to survive
and avoid pain. What I
am
certain about is that we
only have each moment once, and that nothing can bring back a moment once it
has passed.”

“That’s
all true. You didn’t answer my question. Not really.”

“It’s
not over,” Alucius admitted. “Whatever lies behind the Tables is still there.
But there’s nothing I can do about that. Not with the Tables destroyed. It’s
been at least a millennium since that evil ruled Corus, and it might be another
before it surfaces again.”

“And
it might surface again tomorrow. Or next season.”

“It
might.” Alucius nodded.

“And
it might have already surfaced.”

“Because
of the last attack on me?”

“Who
else would spend two hundred golds to try to kill a man who doesn’t even want
to…who only wants to be a herder?”

“I
don’t know that there’s anything else I can do, now.” Alucius paused, then
added in a low voice, “After this last attack…I didn’t feel or sense the
soarers.”

“And…you
think they’re gone?”

“No.
I don’t know what to think. It could be that they don’t know that something is
happening. Or that it’s up to us now. Or that there’s nothing to be done now.”
His lips quirked. “I don’t know.”

The
silence drew out before he spoke again. “I do know that I’ve needed to be here
with you. It almost seems as though the whole world wanted to keep me from you,
that every time I thought I could head home, something else happened.” He
looked into her deep, golden green eyes, eyes that mirrored her very being.

“Perhaps
it did…but you’re here.”

Once
more, their lips met, gently, as did lifethreads and spirits.