Oniwe looked from one to the other. “And what is this sweetbud to us? What do we call it, and do we have it in plenty? Is it equally valuable to our healers?”
Ariana gestured uncertainly. “I don’t know what you call it. I had a sample of it, but as I didn’t know I was coming I did not have it with me... I could speak with a healer and try to identify it.” She hoped desperately she could from among countless strange species.
Tamaryl rose and came forward, but he did not look toward her. “I could take her to Nori’bel, Oniwe’aru. It was she who blended the first medicine for her.”
Oniwe’aru nodded. “Do that, and send word of what you learn. We can discuss this after you return.”
Ariana was startled. “Return?” she repeated warily. She looked at Tamaryl, noting how his eyes shifted away from her. “Where are you going?”
His throat moved. “I am going to your world again.”
The words chilled her. “You’re fighting?!”
“You must understand our position, Ariana’rika,” Oniwe’aru said. “We have no agreement of peace. We do not even have a formal agreement to seek an agreement. What I do have is a hungry clan and another failed harvest, and what you have is an idea for trade, its validity as yet unconfirmed, for a commodity we are not assured is even readily available. I cannot wait on so little. Your shield cost us dearly and we have used nearly all of our stores. We must have new supplies.”
“You can’t do this!”
“I must. Or do you think I could order starving nim not to cross on their own initiative? Do you think our sho, watching their estates falter, would not take it into their own hands to help their dependents?”
“You say the aru of the Ai cannot control his own subjects?”
“I say a wise leader does not ask the ridiculous, and I will not risk my people upon a mere chance offered by someone without authority to aid success.”
“Someone—” Panic and anger rose simultaneously in Ariana. She could not lose this single, frail chance. “But you cannot attack us while we talk of peace!”
“I cannot talk of peace without evidence it is possible. Verify we have this herb in plenty and we will continue our negotiation.”
She stood suddenly from her chair, clenching her jaw, prompting Edeiya’rika to shift forward. “You trust that we would still be willing to open trade after you raid us repeatedly.”
“If the humans are suffering a new plague, as you say, they will be willing to trade for a miracle cure no matter who offered it.” Oniwe’aru raised his eyebrow and regarded her flatly, disdainful of her changed posture. “I do not worry we will lose that opportunity.”
They were sending more raids, greater raids, and she was powerless to stop it. She herself had given the assurance they had nothing to lose. She tried again, hearing desperation in her voice. “A raid won’t win you enough supplies to replace a failed harvest. Why risk antagonizing those who might—”
“I know a village can’t supply our clan,” Oniwe’aru answered testily. “I will see my people fed, in whatever fashion I must, before I talk of experimenting.”
Sweet Holy One, they were going to strip the countryside. The Shard’s shield had frustrated and frightened them, and now they would fill their storehouses before even considering peace. She stared at each of them in turn. “You mean to destroy us.”
He shook his head. “Never. Your growers are as valuable to us as to you. But we will take what we need.”
“Can’t you trust that we can share what you need? That we can share in a way that will not leave us to starve just as you fear for yourselves?”
Oniwe’aru did not change his expression. “I think, Ariana’rika, we have accomplished what we can today. Tamaryl’sho will take you to Nori’bel, where you may determine if there is a purpose to continuing our talk at some later date.”
She couldn’t breathe. Magic prickled at her, but she would not be dismissed. “No.”
Tamaryl looked at her sharply. “Ariana’rika...”
“No. You must understand this—I will see our peoples at peace. I will do whatever is necessary, and I won’t allow any more of us to be slaughtered or starved.” She took a shuddering breath, hardly taking the time to choose her words. “I was raised under the shadow of this war. My father has fought Ryuven longer than I have been alive. My dear friend was raised a soldier to repel Ryuven and those who would take advantage of the Ryuven distraction. I myself was raised to aspire to the Great Circle, a function which today exists primarily to fight Ryuven.
“But I didn’t truly see the awfulness of it all, perhaps because it had always been there. But I have now seen my father collapse and I have seen my suitor killed, by someone I loved as a brother, and—” she gulped and turned her voice to gleaming steel “—and I swear to you by all I hold holy that I will see this war end.” She clenched her fists, pushing the foreign magic through her. “You say I have no authority, and indeed I have no title to command our kingdom—but if you will agree to try this trade, even for a time, I will swear to undertake it. If I were king, I would order a portion of the taxes supporting our army to secure grain, in goodwill and faith for peace, but as I cannot do that, I will pledge my dedication instead. If you venture this trade, I will not rest until you have what you need.” She paused, licked her lips, tried to make her words sound considered and credible. “Please, trust me. Let me try to help you, to help all of us. Stop this.”
Oniwe’aru looked at her steadily. “I cannot.”
“You cannot?”
Oniwe’aru sighed, as if irritated. “Your mages remade your shield, but as we have the crystallized ether, it is a weak thing, and weakening. We are observing it, and its decline. I have already given orders for our army to prepare. You make a very pretty speech, but I will not refuse them this opportunity for so slim a hope as you present.”
Cold despair washed over her. “An army...”
Oniwe’aru looked almost sympathetic, though distantly. “I understand your dedication, Ariana’rika, and I can appreciate your efforts. But we must supply ourselves as we urgently need, and only then will we have the leisure to explore any merit in your suggested trade.” He gestured. “I think it will be best if you remain here until our business in your world is finished. Tamaryl’sho, show her to Nori’bel now—unless she would prefer to return to her room at this time.”
Ariana curtsied numbly, hardly aware of her movement, and backed toward the door as she would for human royalty. She had failed—she had accomplished nothing. Shianan was dead, her father dead or dying, and their kingdom was about to suffer another Luenda.
She became suddenly aware of Tamaryl walking at her shoulder, and she twitched aside. He looked away.
She tried to clear the lump in her throat. “Where can I find this healer Nori’bel?”
“I will send her to your room. That will be simplest.”
Ariana wanted both to shrink away from Tamaryl and to reach to him for comfort. But the friendly boy had become a distant warrior who would not even meet her eyes as he prepared to murder her countrymen, in defiance of all he’d claimed to want. “And if she has dall sweetbud in plenty? You’ll already be killing our soldiers and robbing our farmers.”
He winced, surprising her. “Ariana...”
“Don’t presume to call me by name,” she snapped. “You used me as your shield, you killed—you said nothing in there, nothing! when you claimed for years you wanted peace. Why didn’t you help me?”
“How could I help when I knew nothing of your suggestion?” he demanded. “I never knew of this herb. And I have done all I could by not speaking—would it help your cause if Oniwe’aru knew you’d meant to kill his Pairvyn?”
“What? How can you—” She stopped, realizing what he meant. “That shield—I didn’t mean—I only locked my door, so to speak. It wasn’t to kill you.”
“Only because I was standing still. If I’d been even walking when you erected that...”
&n
bsp; It would have shoved his organs out of place, even disemboweled him if he’d been moving quickly enough. She stared at him. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Wasn’t it?”
“Of course not! You frightened me, I woke and I—what were you doing anyway? Pairvyn or no, you can’t just walk in while I’m sleeping—”
Something changed, something in him went very still and hard. “I’m sorry I frightened you,” he interrupted in a clipped, terse voice. “I will try not to disturb you again. And I will have Nori’bel come to you this afternoon.” He nodded tightly and turned, leaving her in the corridor.
Magic converged on Ariana, stinging her and making her vision swim. She squeezed her eyes closed and fought to breathe slowly. Steady, steady... Think of Father. Think of home. Think of—
But every stable image was threatened now by thousands of Ryuven descending to pillage and litter the countryside with dead soldiers and starving survivors.
She seized the foreign magic and drove it through her, forcing it to her will and channeling it into a wind that poured from her hands, rebounding off the floor and whipping her clothing and hair about her. After a long moment the pressure eased as she regained control, and she opened her eyes. At the end of the corridor, two che stared at her.
Ariana was in no mood to be civil. “Go away,” she snapped.
They did, startled. She strode to her room, wishing she had a door to slam.
She could not stop the Ryuven army. And when they arrived and found King Jerome’s army waiting for them, there would be carnage.
She had to find dall sweetbud. It would not avert the coming disaster, but there was nothing she could do for that. Thinking on it could do no good. But if she could secure dall sweetbud, perhaps negotiate a truce... At the very least, it would give her occupation and some slight hope as she waited for opportunity.
She needed to sketch the dall sweetbud, to have its features firmly in her mind before examining new species which might be teasingly similar. If she identified the wrong herb, if the Ryuven tried to open trade with the wrong product, they would never have another chance. She tugged at the silken cord to summon a nim servant for paper and ink.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-EIGHT
NORI’BEL SEEMED PLEASED as she entered. “You look well, Ariana’rika. I’m glad to see it.”
She was short for a female Ryuven, Ariana guessed, only Tamaryl’s height. It was a difference which still startled her. “You were the healer who cared for me before? I cannot express my thanks enough.”
Nori’bel shook her head. “No, I should thank you. You made me the first healer to succeed in keeping a human mage alive. And now I am told I can do Oniwe’aru some service in helping you?”
Ariana nodded and presented the sheet on which she’d sketched her best memory of dall sweetbud. “When I came before, you mixed a medicine for me which included this herb. I took a sample back to my world, where we identified it as a plant we knew as dall sweetbud. What can you tell me about it here?”
Nori’bel took the paper. “Ah, this is samur,” she identified easily. “That’s simple enough.”
“Samur.” Ariana tried the word. “Is it common?”
Please, let it be a common herb. A weed, hardy, plentiful, and worthless. Please, let them be thrilled to find a use for surplus samur.
“Common? It’s not uncommon, anyway, but it’s hardly ubiquitous. We can grow it readily enough if we need it, if that’s what you mean.”
Ariana’s heart quickened. “That will do, I hope. It’s priceless in our world. It’s a valuable medicine, or was until it was over-harvested and disappeared.” She stopped herself, trying to control the anxious excitement in her voice. “I hope to establish a trade for it. Your samur, for our meat and grain.”
Nori’bel looked at her sharply, eyes widening. “You think that’s possible? You came to speak to Oniwe’aru about this?”
“Yes.” Complaining of the aru’s reluctance would help nothing. Letting rumors of hope build might force him to give trade an opportunity. “But we need to know if the Ryuven could supply enough samur to support trade.”
Nori’bel considered. “We grow it in our medicinal plots. We don’t grow much, as it is not particularly effective in itself, but it supplements more potent blends. I am surprised you say it is so useful to your kind. But if we could trade profitably for it, I am sure it could be grown in greater quantities.”
The magic prickled at Ariana again, and she fought to control her rising excitement. “Could we—I mean—could I obtain some of it? To carry back and prove that it’s available?”
Nori’bel pursed her lips. “I believe Inki’che should have a fresh crop of herbs for me this week. If you are comfortable leaving the palace, we could go to him and see if he has anything yet.”
There was no hurry; Ariana would not be returning to her world soon. But she had to know if it was real. “Please!” She kept herself from reaching for the Ryuven’s arm in eagerness. “Yes, let’s go.”
WHEN LUCA ENTERED THE sitting room, the White Mage’s eyes were closed, though he sat upright in his chair, his staff beside him. Luca hesitated, but Hazelrig waved him in. “Come in,” he said, opening his eyes. “I was only observing the shield.”
Luca set down the tray and began to arrange the mage’s lunch. “From here, my lord?” He never spoke so freely with anyone as he did with Master Shianan, but occasionally he startled himself while with Ewan Hazelrig, who had been so easy with the boy Tam.
The White Mage, however, did not seem to mind. “Yes, even here. The shield extends over the whole of Chrenada. It is quite as visible here as anywhere else in Alham.” His smile blunted the gently mocking words.
Luca was chided nonetheless. “Forgive me, my lord. I know better than to question.”
The mage seemed hurt. “Luca, have I been so strict as that?” But his attention returned to the shield, as he closed his eyes once more. “It is weakening,” he said, though Luca did not presume it was to him. “It won’t be much longer now.”
Hazelrig had always been kind to him. Luca took a breath and ventured the question which worried him most. “Until what, my lord?”
Hazelrig opened his eyes. “Until the battle. When the shield fails, there will be a great and terrible battle.” He sighed. “This will be no sudden raid. Don’t fear to sleep, though. We will have fair warning. The movement of several thousand Ryuven is a difficult thing to miss.” Luca’s incomprehension must have been evident, for the mage raised an eyebrow. “Through the between-worlds?”
Luca shook his head.
“Ah. Well, you’ve not trained for magic or military. There is a certain amount of temporal realignment when a Ryuven crosses the void, relative to the Ryuven’s power. Massed Ryuven increase this effect exponentially, so that when—” He stopped, looking at Luca.
“I’m sorry, my lord.”
“No, I’m sorry, I will explain in layman’s terms. What we had always believed—but perhaps I can make it simpler yet. Tam confirmed that the sho, the most powerful caste of Ryuven, may leap between worlds in a moment. They may also carry more matter with them, such as a lesser Ryuven, or even a human prisoner. The che need longer to leap, though it seems to them that they leap as quickly; that is the temporal realignment I mentioned. The che will arrive after the sho, if they leap simultaneously, but each will feel as if they spent only a moment in the void. And the nim, the least powerful, need what we would count as a handful of minutes to cross between worlds, and they may carry only themselves and a small additional weight, such as their weapons.”
Luca stared at him, trying to understand while at the same time seizing wildly upon one phrase.
“When a number of Ryuven cross at once, there is a—well, let’s say that the between-worlds void becomes warped. Can a void warp? I don’t know, but it will do for our purposes. That effect means the length of time it takes for the crossing is multiplied. So a single sho may travel from his world to ours in a moment
, while a half dozen che may need twenty minutes. Do you understand thus far?”
Luca bobbed his head.
“A watchful mage can detect the energy trace of traveling Ryuven, if near enough. A single sho gives us only a moment of warning. If a half dozen che were to come, we could have twenty minutes to prepare and meet them where they appear. A thousand nim give us a couple of days to present a stand.” He sighed. “You see now?”
Luca nodded again.
“What is it? You look as if you have a question.”
Luca opened his mouth and hesitated. But the question burst from him. “You said—you said Tam confirmed it for you?”
Hazelrig blinked at him. “Did I? I must be tired. I would have thought you... but no, he wouldn’t endanger her. He’d trust you with his own life, but he wouldn’t risk hers.” He sighed. “Yes, Tam had a special knowledge of the Ryuven. Some might have considered it treasonous, so his role was never to be known.”
Luca nodded. The boy somehow knew the Ryuven and assisted the White Mage. No wonder he had been used gently as a slave.
“But Tam wanted to end this war. He helped us to develop the shield. That is why I felt there was no treason in keeping his secret.”
Luca was not sure why the mage felt the need to explain. A slave could not pass judgment on the White Mage, nor accuse him. He merely nodded again. “Yes, my lord.”
Hazelrig slowly slumped. “I am not sure we will see Tam again.”
So the slave had not fled, after all. He might have been taken by the Ryuven he betrayed. Luca nodded. “I’m sorry, my lord.” It was easy to see the mage had been fond of him.
Hazelrig closed his eyes. “And Ariana... my daughter...”
Luca twitched uncomfortably as he saw tears brimming at the older man’s lids. “Is there anything I can bring you, my lord?”
The White Mage shook his head. “No, Luca. Only, let me speak sometimes. It’s good to explain things, to talk of something else, something known and simple and—I’m sorry, I’m not making much sense.” He took a deep breath. “Thank you for the meal. Now you may go.”
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