Fires of Azeroth (26 page)

He did so. His voice failed him in the midst of it, and they gave him drink; he continued, in their stark silence. There was silence even after he had finished. "Please," he asked of Merir, "give me a horse and one for my cousin too. Our weapons. Nothing more. We will go and find them."

The silence continued. In the weight of it, he reached to his neck and lifted off the chain that bore the amulet, tendered it to Merir. When Merir made no move to take it, he laid it on the mat before him, for his hand could not hold it longer without shaking.

"Then let us go out as we are," Vanye said. "My lady is lost. I want only to go and find her and those with her." "Man," said Merir at last, "why did she seek Nehmin?" He was dismayed by the question, for it shot to the heart of things that Morgaine had withheld from their knowledge. "Does it not control Azeroth?" he countered. "Does it not control the place where our enemies are?" "Were," said another.

He swallowed, clenched his hands in his lap to keep them from trembling. "Whatever is amiss out there is my doing. I take responsibility for it. I told you why they came; they pursued me, and Nehmin has nothing to do with that. My lady is hurt. I do not know if she is still alive. I swear to you that she is not at fault in bringing attack on you."

"No," said Merir. "Perhaps she is not. But never yet have you told us all the truth. She asked truth of me. She asked trust. And trust have I given, to the very edge of war and the loss of our people's lives and homes. Yes, I see your enemies for what they are; and they are evil. But never yet have you told us all the truth. You and she crossed through the
harilim.
That is no small thing. You dared use the
harilim
in escaping your enemies; and you survive . . . and that amazes me. The dark ones hold you in uncommon regard-Man that you are. And now you ask us to trust you once more. You wish to use us to set you on your way, and never once have you told us truth. We shall not harm you, do not fear that; but loose you again to work more chaos in our land . . . no. Not with my question still unanswered."

"What will you ask, lord?" He bowed again to the mat, trembling, and sat back. "Ask me tomorrow. I think that I should answer you. But I am tired and I cannot think." "No," said another
qhal,
and leaned on Merir's chair to speak to the old lord. "Will a night's rest improve the truth? Lord, think of Lellin."

Merir considered a moment. "I ask," he said at last, though his old eyes seemed troubled at the unkindness. "I do ask,
khemeis.
In all cases your life is safe, but your freedom is
not."

"Would a
khemeis
be asked to betray his lord's confidence?"

That told upon all of them; there were doubtful looks among these honorable folk. But Merir bit his lip and looked sadly at him.

"Is there something then to betray,
khemeis?"

Vanye blinked slowly, forcing the haze away, and shook his head. "We never wished you harm."

"Why Nehmin,
khemeis?"

He tried to think what to answer, and could not; and shook his head yet again.

"Do we then guess that she means some harm to Nehmin? That is what we must conclude. And we must be alarmed that she has had the power to pass the
harilim.
And we must never let you go."

There was nothing else to say, and even silence was no safety. The friendship that they had enjoyed was gone.

"She wished to seize Nehmin," Merir said. "Why?"

"Lord, I will not answer you."

"Then it is an act which aims at us ... or the answer would do no harm."

He looked at the old
qhal
in terror, knowing that he should devise something to say, something of reason. He pointed vaguely and helplessly back toward Azeroth, from which he had come. "We oppose that. That is the truth, lord."

"I do not think we have truth at all until it involves Nehmin. She means to seize power there. No. Then what else might she intend?
'The danger is to more worlds than this one . . .'
Her words. They sweep much wider than Azeroth,
khemeis.
Do I dare guess she means to destroy Nehmin?"

He thought that he must have flinched. The shock was evident too in the faces that watched. There was heaviness in the air such that it was hard to draw breath.

"Khemeis?"

"We . . . came to stop the Shiua. To prevent the kind of thing that has come on you.". .

"Aye," said Merir after a moment, and breath was held in that place; none stirred. "By destroying the passage. By taking and destroying Nehmin."

"We are trying to save this land."

"But you fear to speak the truth to those who live in it."

"That out there . . .
that
... is the result of the opening of your Gate. Do you want more of it?"

Merir gazed down on him. His senses blurred; he was shaking convulsively. He had lost the blanket somewhere; he could not remember. Someone put a cloak about him, and he held it close, shivering still.

"This Man, Roh," Merir said then. "Bring him in."

It was a moment before Roh came, and that not willingly; but he seemed too weary to fight, and when he was brought to face Merir. Vanye looked up and whispered to him: "Lord Merir, cousin; a king in Shathan, and worth respect. Please. For my sake."

Roh bowed: hall-lord and clan-lord himself, although they had taken his weapons and insulted him, he maintained his dignity, and when he had bowed, he sat down crosslegged on the floor . . . the latter a courtesy to kinsman rather than to Merir, for he should have demanded a seat on Merir's level or remained standing.

"Lord Merir," Roh said, "are we free or no?"

"That is the question, is it not?" Merir's eyes shifted to Vanye's. "Your cousin. And yet you have warned us before now what he is."

"I beg you, my lord-"

"Chya Roh." Merir's eyes flashed. "Abomination among us, this thing that you have done. Murder. And how many times have you so done?"

Roh said nothing.

"Lord," Vanye said. "He has another half. Will you not remember that?"

"That is to be reckoned ... for he is both the evil and its victim. I do not know which I see."

"Do him no harm."

"No," said Merir. "His harm is within him." And Merir wrapped his cloak the more tightly about him and brooded in silence. 'Take them," he said at last. "I must think on these things. Take them and lodge them well."

Hands settled on them, gentle enough. Vanye struggled to rise and found it beyond his strength, for his one leg was stiff and the other would scarcely hold him.
Arrhendim
helped him, one on a side, and they were led away to a neighboring tent, where there were soft skins still warm from someone's body. Here they were left, unrestrained, able to have fled, but that they had no strength left. They sprawled where they were let down, and slept.

Day came. A shadow stood against the light in the doorway of the tent. Vanye blinked. The shadow dropped down, and became Sin, squatted with his arms folded across his bare knees, patiently waiting.

A second presence breathed nearby. Vanye turned his head, saw a
qhalur
lad, his long white hair and clear gray eyes strange in a child's face; delicate, long hands propped his chin.

"I do not think you should be
here," Vanye whispered to Sin.

"We may," said the
qhalur
child, with the absolute assurance of his elders.

Roh stirred, sat up reaching for weapons that were not there. "Be still," Vanye said. "It is all right, Roh. We are safe with such guards."

Roh dropped his head against his hands and drew a slow breath.

"There is food," said Sin brightly.

Vanye rolled over and saw that all manner of things had been provided them, water for washing, cloths; a tray of bread, and a pitcher and cups. Sin crawled over and sat down there, gravely poured frothing milk into a cup for him and offered it ... offered a cup to Roh when Roh held out his hand for it. They breakfasted on butter and bread and a surfeit of goat's milk, the best fare they had had in many days.

"He is Ellur," said Sin, indicating his
qhalur
friend, who settled crosslegged near him. "I think that I may be
khemeis
to him."

Ellur soberly inclined his head.

"Are you all right?" Sin asked, touching his splinted knee with great care.

"Yes. It is mending. I shall take that off soon."

"This is your brother?"

"Cousin," said Roh. "Chya Roh i Chya, young sir."

They inclined their heads in respect as men might.

"Khemeis
Vanye," said Ellur, "is it true what we have heard, that many Men have come behind you against Shathan?"

"Yes," he said, for there was no lying to such children.

"Ellur has heard," said Sin, "that Lellin and Sezar are lost; and that the lady is hurt."

Yes."

he boys were silent a moment, both looking distressed. "And," said Ellur, "that if you go free, then there will be no
arrhendim
by the time we are grown."

e could not look away. He met their eyes, dark human and gray
qhal,
and his belly felt as if he had received a mortal wound. "That could be the truth. But I do not want that. I do not want that at all."

There was long silence. Sin gnawed at his lip until it seemed he would draw blood. He nodded finally. "Yes, sir."

"He is very tired," Roh said after a moment. "Young sirs, perhaps you should speak to him later."

"Yes, sir," said Sin, and rose up, gently reached out and touched Vanye's arm, bowed his head and exited the tent, Ellur shadowing him like a small pale ghost.

It was a mercy equal to any Roh had ever shown him. He felt Roh push at him, and lay down, shivering suddenly. Roh flung a cover over him, and sat there wisely saying nothing.

He drowsed at last, found respite in sleep. It did not last. "Cousin," Roh whispered, and shook at him. "Vanye."

A shadow fell across the doorway. One of the
khemi
crouched in the opening. "You are awake," he said. "Good. Come."

Vanye nodded to Roh's questioning look, and they gathered themselves out of the cramped confines of the tent, stood and blinked in the full daylight outside. There were four
arrhendim
waiting there.

"Will Merir see us now?" Vanye asked.

"Perhaps today; we do not know. But come and we shall see to your comfort."

Roh hung back, doubting them. "They can do what they will," Vanye said in his own tongue, and Roh yielded then and came. He limped heavily, loath to be moved anywhere, for he was dizzy and sore; but what he had told Roh was the very truth: they had no choice in the matter.

They came to an ample tent, and entered into it, where sat an old
qhalur
woman, robed in gray, who regarded them with bright stern eyes and looked them up and down, sorry as they were and filthy. "I am Arrhel," she said in a voice that cracked with authority. "Wounds I treat, not dirt." She gestured to the young
qhal
who stood in the rear corner. "Nthien, take them into the back and deal with what you may;
arrhendim,
assist Nthien where needful."

The young
qhal
parted the curtain for them, expecting no argument. Vanye went, pausing to bow to the old woman; Roh followed, and their guard trailed them.

Hot water was already prepared, carried steaming through an opening at the rear of the tent. At Nthien's urging they stripped and washed, even to the hair . . . Roh must unbind his, which was shame to any man; but so was it to be unwashed, so he only frowned displeasure and did so. Vanye had no such pride left.

The water stung in the wounds, and Vanye felt fever in his which must be dealt with; Nthien saw that at a glance and a touch, and began to make preparations in that direction. Vanye watched him with dread, for there was likely the cautery for the worst of them. Roh's injuries were scant, and a little salve sufficed for him, and a linen bandage to keep them clean; afterward Roh settled, wrapped in a clean sheet, on a mat in the corner, braiding his hair back into the warrior's knot and watching Nthien's preparations with mistrust equal to his own.