The Dark-Eyes War bots-3

by DAVID B. COE

  The Forelander appeared amused by this.

  "And why would he have you tell me this? He has other Weavers-Fal'Borna Weavers-who could do this for him."

  For a long time the man just looked back at her, a faint smile on his face. Finally he shook his head and laughed.

  "I've been doing this for several nights," he said. "And you're the first a'laq to challenge me on any of it. You're also the first woman I've spoken to. My wife would tell me there's a lesson to be learned from that."

  U'Selle didn't respond.

  "Everything I've told you is true," the Forelander said. "Except for the part about this being a gift from E'Menua. Ile doesn't know that I've been doing this." He faltered, but only briefly. "And he wouldn't be happy if he did."

  "As an a'laq, I'm obligated to tell him."

  "I understand," he said evenly.

  "This doesn't frighten you?" U'Selle asked.

  "I don't frighten easily, A'Laq. And I believe that what I'm doing is necessary. I knew there was a risk when I began. If E'Menua finds out, so be it."

  U'Selle eyed the man for several moments, tapping a finger to her lips. "You're a most unusual man, Grinsa of the Forelands. Did you really have the plague?"

  "Yes, I did."

  "And these Mettai cured you of it?"

  "That's right."

  She considered this. "But E'Menua doesn't believe you, does he?"

  The man smiled. "No, he doesn't."

  U'Selle nodded, though she continued to stare at him. "Why should this matter to you so much? I understand that if you're living in his sept he's your a'laq, and you don't want him doubting your word. But you've gone to a great deal of trouble to tell me all of this. There must he more to it than that."

  He said nothing.

  "Explain this to me, Forelander. You don't seem to fear E'Menua, but I can't imagine you want him to know about this conversation. Tell me the truth, and perhaps I'll keep all this to myself."

  "All right. We can prevent this plague from spreading. We can stop it from killing. And because he doesn't believe me, the a'laq does nothing."

  U'Selle waited, expecting him to say more. When he didn't, she said, "Is that all?"

  "Isn't that enough?"

  She narrowed her eyes again. "No. I don't think it is."

  He gazed back at her for several moments, as if testing his will against hers. At last he looked away, gave another small shake of his head, and laughed again. "Your people are fortunate to have such a wise leader, A'Laq." He took a breath. "You're right: That's not all. E'Menua is holding the two Mettai men as prisoners. These men killed the woman responsible for the plague, cured me, and created this spell to protect all Qirsi. And E'Menua intends to execute them as enemies of the Fal'Borna."

  U'Selle shrugged. "We're at war with the Mettai."

  The man's expression turned to stone. "And here I'd started to believe that you were different."

  "I'm not saying E'Menua is justified, Forelander. But even if you've only lived among the Fal'Borna for a short time, you should understand that this is how my people think. The Mettai have declared themselves enemies of the Fal'Borna; therefore, these two men are enemies as well. It's our way."

  "Well, in this case, your way is leading E'Menua down a dark and dangerous path."

  She nodded. "Yes, I suppose it is."

  He looked frustrated, discouraged.

  "Well, A'Laq, I should leave you to sleep. I have more Weavers to contact before this night is over."

  "I hope all your effort is rewarded, Grinsa of the Forelands. I can't say that I'm hoping to encounter this plague-I've heard too much about it, and I've seen what it does to those it leaves behind. But if we should be exposed to it, and if we survive the encounter, I'll be sure to thank E'Menua for his generous gift."

  That made the man smile. "Thank you, A'Laq."

  "Go," she said. "I'd like a few hours of peace before dawn."

  He bowed to her. "May the gods smile on you and your people."

  "They usually do," she said, and woke up.

  Hynna was sick again, the pain in her stomach so sharp that she could do nothing more than lie on her side, her knees drawn up to her chest. She could hear her brothers and parents calling for her, and she wanted to answer them, to tell them that she was here, that she needed their help. But she had her teeth clenched against the illness in her gut; she couldn't bring herself even to open her mouth.

  And then she saw the old woman. She was walking in Jynna's direction, her eyes fixed on the girl, a broad grin on her wizened face. She carried a basket in each hand, and within the baskets were smaller baskets, which in turn held even tinier baskets. The back of her left hand was bloody, and Jynna saw that the knife on her belt dripped blood as well.

  "You aren't supposed to be alive," the woman said. "It was supposed to kill all of you."

  She wanted to shout back at the woman to leave her alone. She wanted to tell the woman that this plague she had brought to her people wouldn't kill her.

  But the woman began to cackle, as if she could read Jynna's thoughts. "You're right," she said.

  And though the woman was still a few strides away, her voice seemed to come from just beside her. It seemed to Jynna that she could feel the woman's foul breath on her neck.

  "You're right, child," she said again. "It won't kill you. But I will."

  She pulled the knife free, and then pulled a second from behind her. This time Jynna did open her mouth to scream. If only her father or mother could hear her. If only her brothers could.

  "They're dead," the woman said, laughing again.

  But Jynna screamed anyway.

  "Jynna!"

  She felt a hand on her arm and struggled to get away.

  "Jynna, wake up, love."

  She opened her eyes, saw S'Doryn sitting on the edge of her bed looking down at her, his brow furrowed with concern.

  Closing her eyes again, she took a long breath.

  "It was the same dream."

  "It sounded like it."

  Jynna looked at him. "Why? What did I say?"

  He looked away.

  "Was I calling for Mama and Papa again?" she asked, her eyes stinging. S'Doryn nodded. "And your brothers, too."

  She wiped a tear from her cheek and made herself smile. "Well, it was just a dream."

  He tried to return her smile, but his forehead was still creased and there was concern in his golden yellow eyes. She sat up and looked around the small chamber.

  "Where's Vettala?" she asked.

  "She woke up some time ago. She and N'Tevva went to the marketplace. Not that they'll find much there, but Vettala wanted to go."

  Vettala, like Jynna, had come to Lowna from Tivston, the Y'Qatt village where they had been raised. A few turns before, Tivston had been destroyed by the plague loosed upon the land by the old Mettai woman she'd seen in her nightmare. Nearly everyone in the village had died, including Jynna's parents and her older brothers, Delon and Blayne. There were a few other survivors of that horrible night who had come to Lowna with Jynna and Vettala. Etan and Hev, Pelda and Sebbi-all of them children.

  For a long time, Vettala had been unwilling to speak to anyone or stray from Jynna's side. But S'Doryn and N'Tevva had welcomed Jynna and Vettala into their home and now were as close to a father and mother as the girls would ever have. And with time, Vettala had come to love and trust N'Tevva, just as Jynna loved and trusted S'Doryn.

  "So they've gone to the market," Jynna said with false brightness. She threw off her blanket and swung herself out of bed. "What are we going to do?"

  She'd had this dream enough times to know that the images she'd seen would be with her for most of the day. Her stomach still felt sour, and would for a few hours, until she was hungry enough to force down some food. But she knew as well that she'd be better off getting out of the house and doing something-anything-that would distract her.

  "What do you want to do?" S'Doryn asked.

  She gave him a
sly look. "The last time we went fishing you caught one more than I did-"

  He shook his head. "Two."

  "That small one didn't count. That's why you threw it back. You caught one more than I did and I want a chance to beat you."

  He grinned, and this time it appeared genuine. "All right. Fishing it is." He stood and crossed to the door. "Get dressed and I'll… I'll pack some food to take with us, in case you get hungry."

  Jynna nodded. After he left the chamber she closed the door and pulled on her breeches and a shirt that N'Tevva had made for her. It was soft and heavy and very comfortable, particularly now that the Snows were nearly upon them. She pulled on a pair of hose and reached for her shoes. As she was putting them on her feet, she heard voices coming from the common room. N'Tevva and Vettala, no doubt.

  But when she stepped out of the small room she shared with Vettala, she saw S'Dorvn speaking with U'Selle, Lowna's a'laq.

  "Good morning, Jynna," the old woman said. Immediately she was taken with a fit of coughing.

  This happened to her quite often. Jynna gathered that the a'laq was dying, though few in the village ever said as much or even spoke of her being sick. In fact, the only person whom Jynna had heard say anything about it was U'Selle herself, who often joked about how odd it was that she was still alive. Jynna thought that U'Selle had to be very brave to laugh about her own impending death. It was one of the reasons Jynna liked the a'laq so much.

  "I understand you're going fishing," U'Selle said when she could speak again. Her cheeks were red and she seemed to struggle merely to draw breath.

  "Yes, A'Laq."

  "Jynna's under the mistaken impression that she can catch more fish than I can," S'Doryn said, winking at Jynna. "I intend to disabuse her of the notion."

  "He sounds a bit too confident to me, Jynna. I think he's in for a surprise."

  Jynna smiled. "I think so, too, A'Laq."

  "Before you go, though, my dear, I need a word with S'Doryn in private. I hope you don't mind."

  The a'laq said this with a smile, but Jynna could tell that she took seriously whatever matters she'd come to discuss. Suddenly Jynna felt cold. Had the plague come back? Was the Eandi army headed toward Lowna?

  "The fishing poles are around back," S'Doryn said, forcing a smile as well. "Why don't you fetch them and the bucket and that net we used last time? I'll be out shortly."

  Jynna nodded and crossed to the door. She could feel them watching her, and she knew they'd say nothing of consequence until they were certain she was out of earshot.

  She tried to do just what S'Doryn had asked of her. She retrieved the poles from where she and S'Doryn had left them after their last visit to the lake. She found the bucket and net right beside them, and though she struggled a bit, she managed to bring all of it around to the front of the house in one trip.

  The problem was that this left her with nothing to do. She checked the poles for tangles in the line. She made certain the net had no holes.

  But her mind kept returning to the same question: What were S'Doryn and the a'laq talking about? Most likely, it was nothing that concerned her. S'Doryn was a member of the clan council, and he and U'Selle had been friends for a long time. The a'laq often came to him to discuss things that Jynna thought were terribly boring: disputes between traders in the marketplace, or between villagers who wished to work the same plot of land; provisions for the coming Snows; requests from young couples who wished to build a new house in one part of the village or another. Once they'd spent half the day talking about a fight between two men who claimed to have caught the same fish. Jynna had thought that one especially funny. She could hardly believe they were talking about adults.

  Other times, though, they talked about Jynna and Vettala and the other children who had come to Lowna from Tivston. Or they spoke of the plague that had claimed Jynna's family, or of the coming war. These conversations fascinated Jynna. Often after U'Selle left, she would ask S'Doryn so many questions about what they had said that he would finally tell her to leave him alone, something he never did under any other circumstance.

  After standing there for several moments, looking at the net, and the bucket, and the poles with their untangled lines, she sidled closer to the house. She knew it was wrong; she knew that S'Doryn would be angry with her if he found her trying to listen. But she couldn't help herself.

  At first she couldn't hear much of anything. A small flock of finches chose that moment to alight on the branches of the spruce tree just beside the house, and for several moments their chattering drowned out everything else.

  Then they moved on, and Jynna stepped closer to the house, even going so far as to press her ear against the wood. She heard S'Doryn's voice first."... peculiar that a man from the Forelands would be doing all this?"

  "Yes, I do," U'Selle answered. She began to cough and for several moments said nothing more. "It seems he's living on the plain now," she went on at last, her voice sounding strained. "So its not surprising that he should be concerned about the plague. But I gather that he and E'Menua are at odds. I'm not sure what that means."

  "And these Mettai he mentioned; do you know where they came from?"

  "I don't know the name of their village, if that's what you mean. But he said they came from the same village as the witch."

  Jynna could scarcely believe what she was hearing. They had to be talking about that woman! Licaldi! The one who killed her family; the one who had haunted her sleep this past night. What other Mettai witch could they have been referring to?

  "This could all have been a lie," S'Doryn said. "He might have intended to kill you rather than help you."

  "Why would a Weaver from the Forelands-" She broke off, taken by another coughing fit. "Why would he want to kill me?" she continued eventually. "I'm practically dead already. And as Fal'Borna septs and villages go, Lowna isn't important to anyone other than us."

  "So you believe him," S'Doryn said.

  "Yes," U'Selle told him, "I suppose I do. I came to you to gauge your reaction. If you don't want me to pass this spell on to you, then I won't, nor will I take it to any of the others. But if you believe we should trust this man, then I want to spread the spell as quickly as possible. The plague is still out there. Just because it's spread westward doesn't mean it can't come back this way."

  For several moments neither of them spoke, until finally S'Doryn broke the silence.

  "You've put me in a difficult position, A'Laq."

  "Yes, I have. Would you have preferred that I go to one of the others?" "You know I wouldn't. Since Jynna first came here," he went on, dropping his voice lower, so that Jynna had to press her ear more tightly to the wood, "I've tried to tell her that she shouldn't hate all Mettai for what befell her family. But the truth is, I've never trusted the Mettai. I've tried to avoid having dealings with them in the marketplace. And now you want me to accept this spell of theirs. I don't know if I can do it."

  "I understand. But this can save lives, S'Doryn. This can protect all of us from the plague."

  "If it's true."

  "Yes. For whatever it's worth," the a'laq said, after another brief silence, "I feel well today. Or at least as well as I ever do. The spell hasn't affected me at all."

  "Maybe it doesn't work, then. Maybe the Mettai and this Forelander are hoping to make us overconfident. If we no longer fear the plague, we might grow complacent, careless. They could kill us that way."

  U'Selle offered no reply, and finally S'Doryn said, "You don't believe that, either."

  "No," the a'laq said. "I don't."

  "Very well, then. What is it you'd have to do?"

  "I just need to touch your magic with my own."

  "Jynna!"

  Jynna jumped so violently that she scraped her ear on the side of the house. N'Tevva was striding toward her, with Vettala following at a run.

  "What are you doing?" N'Tevva demanded, though she already seemed to know, judging from the angry expression on her face.

&n
bsp; Jynna stared back at her, wide-eyed with fright. Back in Tivston, before the plague came, her own mother and father had grown angry with her at times, just as they did with her older brothers. She knew that all parents yelled at their children.

  But this was the first time either N'Tevva or S'Doryn had been so angry with her. And yet, her thoughts were focused elsewhere.

  I just need to touch your magic with my own.

  "Jynna, answer me!" N'Tevva said, stopping a short distance from where the girl stood. "What were you doing?"

  Vettala had stopped just behind N'Tevva and was gaping at Jynna, looking even more frightened than Jynna felt.

  Jynna bolted past N'Tevva, ran up the small steps at the front of the house, and pushed open the door.

  "Jynna!" S'Doryn said, obviously startled by her entrance. "Did I just hear N'Tevva?"

  "You can't do it!" Jynna said. "You can't let her touch you with that spell!" S'Doryn's expression hardened. "You were listening?"

  "Yes. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have been. But you can't let that magic touch you!" She felt tears on her cheeks and she swiped at them angrily.

  "Jynna, you know better than that!" S'Doryn said. "I told you to wait for me outside! That didn't mean go outside and then put your ear to the wall!"

  She felt her cheeks color. A shadow darkened the common room, and glancing back, Jynna saw N'Tevva standing in the doorway.

  "Come with me, Jynna," N'Tevva said severely. "We need to have a little talk."

  "No!" Jynna said. "Not until-"

  "Why shouldn't he let me pass the spell to him?" U'Selle asked in a voice that silenced them all. The a'laq didn't appear angry, but she looked deadly serious. "If you were listening, you understand that this spell could save lives. It could keep the plague from spreading to our people. Surely, you of all people would want that. You know what this spell does, Jynna. Don't you want N'Tevva and S'Doryn to be protected from it?"

  "It's Mettai magic!" she said.

  Suddenly she was bawling as she hadn't in years. She cried so hard she could hardly draw breath and couldn't see for her tears. She felt hands on her-S'Doryn's hands-and she jerked away, not wanting to be held or even touched.