She had a better time of it then, living in luxury and traveling when the couple went about on Council business. The man had turned out not to be such a bad sort, though obviously he was too old for his bondmate. Nevertheless, he’d got her with a child. Seely helped birth young Gavyn. She had held him, weeping her eyes out, as her friend died in the bloody childbed. She stayed to care for the boy, on whom the father doted.
Things went well enough until the man got another bondmate, Lady Slawyna; she was older and unpleasant, with a grown son from a previous bonding. Though the woman cooed and praised Gavyn in his father’s hearing, Seely quickly saw she hated the child and wanted him dead so that her bondmate’s rich holdings would go to her own son. He was a Herder, and though he could not inherit himself, his order would receive whatever he would have inherited, paving the way for his promotion within the Faction.
Things went on in that uneasy way until Gavyn’s father died. Then Lady Slawyna took over as guardian of the heir to all her man’s wealth. Seely knew the woman would not dare to harm the boy openly, but still the girl never let Gavyn out of her sight, for she’d sworn to her friend a deathbed oath to protect him. But Gavyn grew to be a strange child, and Lady Slawyna began to cast a fishy eye on him, watching him like a cat watches a bird hopping closer and closer to its claws.
“One night, I heard her speaking to her Herder son about Gavyn,” Seely recalled. “The son said he’d have to be examined, but if he was truly Misfit, there’d be no question of him inheriting. He promised to set the process of investigation in motion. I knew then we’d have to run.” Her eyes clouded with memory. “I never knew how hard it would be. Ye gods, we’ve run from one end of the Land to the other, and if there’s no refuge for us here …” She finished on a sob that made the boy look at her anxiously.
“There’s a place for you here,” I promised. I was glad to think of her finding refuge after all she must have gone through, but more than that, I was excited at the thought of how much invaluable information she might have absorbed about Councilmen and Herders, given the exalted circles she’d moved in.
She went on. “Gavyn’s abilities caused us a lot of difficulties, but they also hid us. The last time we were spotted was in Sutrium, near the ferry port. None could know whether we were trying to get over it to the west coast or had just come from it. Gavyn made it so that people could not see us.” She ruffled the boy’s curls tenderly. “After that, we traveled by night and stole what food and clothes we needed, always heading away from the coast, for I thought maybe we could find some remote hamlet where Herders and soldierguards never came. It was our last hope, truly.”
I saw a bleak vision of her feeding the boy poison and then herself and realized she was at the end of her resources.
“You have done an incredible thing keeping him safe and going so far,” I said gravely. “But now you need to eat and rest. Can you ride?”
“I’ve never,” Seely admitted, staring with frightened eyes at Zidon.
Gavyn toddled over to Faraf and patted her nose clumsily. “Gavyn ride Faraf?”
I gaped, but Seely misunderstood my concern. “He’s not afraid of any animal that ever lived, and they never hurt him no matter how savage they are,” she said.
“Your Gavyn is a Talented little boy indeed,” I said, wondering if she had missed the significance of the boy using the mare’s name without being told it. As well as being a strong coercer, he was probably a beastspeaker, too. “Faraf will carry Gavyn, then, and you can ride with me.” I lifted the child up onto the mare’s back, asking her to be careful.
“I will not let him fall,” she promised.
I climbed onto Zidon then and pulled Seely awkwardly up behind me. “Don’t fear. We won’t go at more than a walk.”
“Do you live alone?” Seely asked with a renewed wariness that told, more than any tale, how hard a time she’d had of it. I said I did not live alone but that she need not fear my friends.
“Who were those men hiding up on the mountain?” Gavyn piped up. “Are they your friends?”
When I did not answer immediately, Seely said, “He probably imagined them.”
“No,” I said. “There are two men watching the pass. They will be very surprised when they learn that you two escaped their notice.”
“They’re Misfits?”
I turned to look over my shoulder at her. “There are more of us about the Land than you’d guess. Most of us start out thinking we’re lone freaks. Gavyn is lucky, because he’ll grow up among his own kind, never feeling an outcast. But there are ordinary folk like you up here, too.”
“We heard a group of riders go by just now,” Seely said slowly. “I thought maybe they were hunters, though I’d heard no one comes up here because it’s haunted.”
“Well, the haunts and shades are the watchers’ doing,” I said, letting a smile infuse my voice. “And the riders you heard were friends. But it’s true that very few people come up here. You are the first in ages, and I would not have known you were here at all if it hadn’t been for Rasial.” I nodded at the ridgeback.
“She smelled us,” the boy said, his eyes fixed on the white dog. Rasial lifted her head, and an extraordinarily long gaze passed between her and Gavyn. I had a feeling some communication had taken place between them, though my senses detected nothing.
As we rode through the gates to Obernewtyn, Seely’s arms tightened around my waist. “This is the place they said was burned out by firestorm.”
“I’m pleased to tell you that there never was any firestorm, nor plague either,” I said. “Those were all illusions to keep the Council and Herders from taking an interest in us. Some of the Misfits here can make a proper building seem like it is in ruins, just as Gavyn can make people see nothing where there is something.”
When Obernewtyn came into sight, Seely gasped aloud. “What sort of place is this?”
“Home.” I smiled as Zidon came to a quiet stop alongside the stone steps leading to the entrance. I slid down and helped Seely off. Gavyn dismounted before I could help him, agile as a squirrel. He patted Faraf and kissed her nose before squatting in the dirt beside Rasial and staring intently into her silver-white eyes.
Without warning, the front doors banged open and Ceirwan rushed out. Seely shrank back with a cry of fright.
“I’m sorry,” Ceirwan said in contrition, holding up his hands to her, “But when th’ guildmistress farsent me to say she’d found ye both, I was burstin’ with curiosity.” He held out a hand to her with a friendly grin. “Ye mun be Seely.”
She shook his hand gingerly. “You … you’re a Misfit, too?”
“I am,” Ceirwan laughed. “But listen, I fergot how overwhelmin’ this place can be. I near burst into tears the first time I saw it.”
“I’m not far from it, truly,” Seely said with a watery smile.
Zidon sent that he and Faraf would return to the farms, and I turned to thank them. The boy’s mind chimed in clear as a bell alongside mine, saying goodbye. There was a strange sweet ringing in his tone that reminded me somewhat of Angina empathising.
“His mind sings,” Faraf agreed.
I stared at the boy, wondering if he could be an empath as well as a beastspeaker and a coercer. No other Misfit had a combination of coercion and empathy, and I had always imagined the two could not coexist. Ceirwan was ushering Seely inside, and she called over her shoulder to Gavyn. Still kneeling in the dirt with Rasial, he told her that he wanted to stay with the dog.
Before Seely could argue, Rasial beastspoke the boy. “I will come with you.”
I watched in wonder as she mounted the steps. Gavyn followed contentedly, his fingers wound into her thick fur. Seely shook her head wearily as if this sort of thing was common to her and asked if I minded that the dog came inside. Though she was aware of Gavyn’s affinity with animals, she seemed to have no idea that he could actually communicate with them.
“You’ll find that beasts have pretty much the same status as
humans here,” I told her mildly, thinking it would be better not to give her too much to take in immediately. She was looking white and stretched beyond her limit. I farsent to Ceirwan to get them both some food and ensure they were not bothered by questions until they had had a chance to rest.
“Go with Ceir now,” I told Seely. “We’ll talk again later, but don’t worry about anything. Consider Obernewtyn your home for as long as you wish.”
“I do not know what to say, my lady,” Seely whispered.
I ignored the honorific and said, “There is no need to say anything. Go and be welcome.”
Eating a very late bowl of somewhat lumpy firstmeal porridge, I refused to let myself dwell on Rushton’s continuing absence, knowing it would lead me to despair. Instead, I turned my attention to the day ahead and the things that needed doing. Gevan must be told about Gavyn, given the boy’s Talent. Alad would need to examine him as well, and perhaps Angina and Miky. Wila would be the best person to question Seely about the Herders, and Tomash was the obvious choice to question her about the Council.
I would also ask the coercer-knights to note any rumor of a couple of runaway children in the high country. Seely had been sure no one knew where they were, but in my experience, someone always noticed what you did not want seen.
Zarak came out of the kitchen carrying two large, steaming apple puddings in a basket. Catching sight of me, he came over. “Guildmistress, I did not get the chance to thank you for … for the wardship,” he said. “I know I did not deserve it, truly, but I will strive to become worthy of it.”
I smiled. “I’m sure you will bring pride to us all in your new role.” I nodded to the basket. “You are taking those to the farms?”
“They’re for the nightmeal. I’m going with some of the other farseekers to help with some planting, but I’ll be back before our guild meeting,” he said earnestly.
He went, leaving me feeling glad that I had changed my mind about promoting him. It seemed that already he had matured with his new position.
Then Maryon entered the dining halls, looking pale and stern. Her eyes settled on me, and as she came across the room, a cold hand closed around my heart.
“What is it? Is it Rushton?” I babbled, half rising to meet her.
“I fell into a trance this mornin’. I have foreseen a time of great upheaval an’ strife.”
I sat back heavily. “Is Obernewtyn in danger?”
“Trouble comes to th’ mountains, to th’ highlands, an’ th’ lowlands. I have seen fightin’ an’ bands of riders warrin’ throughout th’ Land. I have seen death an’ blood an’ tears.” Maryon’s voice was a fey monotone.
“It must be the rebels,” I whispered. “They have decided to rise. Can you say when the strife will begin?”
“Three sevendays, perhaps sooner,” the futureteller said. “I wish I could have had some earlier warnin’, but I suspect Dragon’s mind got in th’ way.”
Knowing sooner would alter nothing, I thought. After all, the rebellion itself no longer had anything to do with us. It was the aftermath we must concern ourselves with, and Maryon’s words about strife coming to the mountains suggested we did have something to worry about.
I took a deep breath and looked at Maryon. “Is there anything more?”
She inclined her head gravely, and my heart sank. “I saw treachery, but I dinna ken how or by whom or when. Only that it is connected to th’ strife.”
I swallowed welling terror at the thought that Rushton’s failure to return meant he had been betrayed. What if the rebels had kept him prisoner in Sutrium since he had refused our help? Brydda would never participate in any treachery against us, and I did not believe Dardelan or his father would harm us, but Malik certainly might.
“If what you have foreseen is the rebellion, we’ll know about it soon enough,” I said grimly. “I’ll call a full guildmerge for this evening, and you can tell the others what you have just told me. Do not mention it before that. The last thing we need is a panicked wave of rumor.”
She nodded and withdrew, but I barely noticed her departure, for my mind was already flying, farsending the news to the other guildleaders.
16
“LET’S TRY TO have some quiet,” I said with enough of a coercive snap to stop the conversations that had erupted. “Now, the first thing to remember is that we don’t know for sure if Maryon’s futuretelling refers to the rebellion.”
“What else could it refer to?” Gevan demanded. “Are we to sit and wait for confirmation when danger is coming for us at a gallop?”
“I don’t say we should sit and twiddle our thumbs,” I said crossly. “There is much that can be done. But we need information if we are to make effective plans. I agree that it is almost certainly the rebellion Maryon has foreseen, but it troubles me that we have had no news of it from Brydda.”
“Maybe the rebels don’t know yet themselves,” Alad said. “Maybe whatever will spark the rebellion off has yet to take place.”
“Perhaps. The thing is, we are not only assuming a rebellion, but also that it will be successful and that Malik will then lead his people up to attack us. But what if it is not his people who win?”
“After seeing them in the Battlegames, who can doubt it?” Miryum asked in a low, flat voice. “Most of the soldierguards are lazy mercenaries who have never been in a battle in their miserable lives. All they do is torment defenseless farmers and merchants.”
I sensed the anger she was repressing but knew it had more to do with Straaka’s decision to wait at Obernewtyn until she was free to come with him to Sador then with the matter at hand.
“I do not doubt they have the ability to win,” I said coolly. “But if you recall, when we entered the Battlegames, we did not doubt our ability to win either. Yet we failed.” I let my eyes rove around the table. “What I am trying to say is, what if the threat is not what we are expecting?”
“Information is needed, you are right, Elspeth, and the magi will be in the perfect position to gather it,” Gevan announced briskly. “As some of you know, we have been invited to Sawlney to play at Councilman Alum’s bonding celebration for his daughter in ten days. There will be both Herders and Councilmen from all the Land in attendance and a great swell of ordinary folk drawn by the fair and the promise of a good feast. In such diverse company, we ought to be able to get the flavor of whatever is brewing.”
There were nods from most seated round the table. “Very well,” I said. “The magi will go to Sawlney. What else can you suggest?”
Miryum stood. “I should like to ride out with the knights and see if we can learn anything,” she said.
“Where’s the need if Gevan is going with the magi?” Roland demanded gruffly. “Besides, your knights are unlikely to be discreet enough for our purposes.”
Miryum gave him a long, measuring look. “We were not indiscreet by mistake, Guildmaster, but because it fit our purpose. If we are to gather information now, obviously we will act in a manner that best serves the defense of Obernewtyn.”
I rose, waving Miryum to sit before the pair of them got into another argument. “I don’t see why the knights can’t go out as well. After all, it will be some days before the magi will be ready to move, and they will be focusing on Sawlney. Miryum’s knights can ride at once and make inquiries in the highlands and upper lowlands. They will not be clad as gypsies, so they may be able to mingle less conspicuously than Gevan’s people. Furthermore, they can be back here before the magi depart, enabling Gevan to set off with some knowledge of what he and his people are likely to encounter.”
“It would be useful to know if there are any places we ought to avoid,” Gevan admitted.
“In that case, with your approval, Gevan, I will command the knights for the time being?”
His eyes flashed with understanding that I was offering him a way out of his guild difficulties with the knights. “I formally release them from my guild to the Master of Obernewtyn.”
I nodded. “
Your magi should travel directly through the high country and make your initial camp at Arandelft. Spend a day there and learn what you can about why they have neither cloister nor Councilman. You’d best take some birds. Send one every twoday or so with reports. All messages sent must be in the code devised by the Teknoguild, so everyone should familiarize themselves with it. Garth, can one of your people give extra lessons to anyone who needs them?”
He nodded and scratched a note on a piece of paper at his elbow. “Someone ought to go into Sutrium,” he said.
“Someone will,” I answered. “Kella will travel with the magi to Sawlney and then on to Sutrium to see Domick. She will remain there for several days and learn what she can of the rebellion before returning to Obernewtyn.” I looked at the healer. “Kella, the only condition I would put on your trip is that you return within the three sevendays Maryon allows us. The last thing we need is to have you stranded there alone.”
She nodded, but I clearly heard her behindthought that she would not be alone because she would be with Domick. I resolved to speak to her again before she left and get her promise that she would return as I had bidden her, whether or not she managed to convince Domick to accompany her.
I shifted my eyes to Alad. “In the meantime, I want the Beastspeaking guild to look at provisioning two possible journeys: one overland to Sador and another higher into the valley. The Teknoguild will examine the logistics of moving us in either instance. Garth, your people should look at those caves you located higher in the mountains and decide what needs to be done to ready them for a long stay.”
“What about the planting program?” Alad asked worriedly. “There’s still quite a bit to go, and it will be difficult to last through the next wintertime unless I have enough workers to plant all we’ll need.”
“I’m afraid you must try to fit it in as best you can around these other preparations. The other guildleaders will assign whomever they can spare to help you. But remember, we may not be here to harvest what you plant.”
The Rebellion Page 59
