by Carol Berg
“So ease her search. You can do it. Part the crowd. See? Yes, that’s it. You can get to the pipers first and hold the child for her, so he won’t wander away ...”
The dark-haired child stands beside a cart, where, within a framed box, two dolls dance, moved by sticks held by the piper’s wife. The boy stands on his toes to see. I gather the small body into my arms, lifting him onto my shoulders, so he can watch the dancing dolls.
“Child, where are you?” The call comes from behind us, and I turn so the mother can see her boy safe on my shoulders.
“He’s safe here with me, ” I call, hoping to ease her worry. “I’ve got him. ”
I can’t pick her out among the myriad faces of the crowd. Everyone looks worried and frantic, and there are so many ... But as I wave a hand, trying to catch her eye, her voice screams out, “No! Not you!”
.. and the dream faded from the ocean.
“Some human fears you cannot ease,” said Nyel, and we went on to another lesson.
On the fourteenth day, I encountered Aleksander.
I had been searching for my friends in the unsettled dreams of Azhakstan. They would have had to move away from Taíne Horet, regroup after the disaster; no matter how many Derzhi I had killed, simple reason said that the valleys were no longer safe. Others would have been told of the refuge in the desert. But neither Aleksander nor Blaise would wait too long to strike again.
I drifted over the silken waters, observing the play of light and color and form. The landscape I explored was desert and night. So many dreams, fearful, anxious dreams—the night before a battle. I paused. This one ... how could I fail to recognize the soul where I had lived for three days so long ago? I bent down and touched the waters with my mind’s finger, watching the ripples roll outward as I permitted my senses to embrace his dream. Galloping, racing ... the choking sand billowing in waves, obscuring the quarry ... only a white tail visible through the storm, braided as the Basrans braid their horses’ tails. No glimpse of the rider ... the child ... too small to ride alone ... too small to be lost in the desert ... hurry... faster ... dead men and women on every side ... more and more of them ... From the paraivo emerges a stark image, a man hanging by his feet, rats feeding on his ripped belly as his body sways in the wind ... his amber eyes alive ... unable to scream, because of the red braid tied to his tongue. The biting sand becomes a hail of arrows ...
“I’m coming!” My cry was unintended, but his fear was so great, his intent so unshakable ...
“No! You will not!”
Abruptly the visions fell away, leaving me hanging over the table heaving, as if my entrails had been drawn out through my eyes. A dull crash across from me was accompanied by the sound of splintering wood.
“I gave you no leave to speak to him. I told you I would not send you to this charming beggar who uses you like the slave you were. What courage does he show, hiding his petty blood feuds behind a Madonai warrior?”
My eyes came into focus to see Nyel, red-faced, standing across from me. His white chair had toppled to the ground, cracking one of its delicate arms.
“I was not going to him,” I said as soon as I recovered from the sudden change. “If you remember, I don’t know how as yet. And I intend to honor our bargain. But once changed, I will go.” Silly to leave these things unspoken. Nyel had won a great number of points, but the outcome of our joust was still in doubt. I could not waste time dissembling.
“I have hopes your judgment will improve by the time you are Madonai.”
“In a few hours, I’ll wish to return to the human world,” I said. “To a different dreamer, if you insist, but in the flesh as we agreed. I’m healed and rested, and they’re going to need me today.” Aleksander was not waiting until the refugees were settled, but was riding for Tanzire. A small target, but a symbol. Those who slaughtered Sovari, Malver, and W‘Assani would recognize its meaning, would spread rumor throughout the Empire, all the way to Zhagad’s palace. And I needed to be part of the talk, I knew. Lydia had told me how Edik feared the tale of the winged warrior more than anything—the speculation that the gods protected Aleksander. Aleksander would need every advantage he could muster, even tales and rumors.
“How can I send you to serve this human prince as I prepare to make you Madonai, your smallest finger worth more than the entirety of his life?” Nyel’s trim gray beard quivered.
“I do thank you for this gift,” I said. “I wish I understood more of your aims. What am I that you should give so much to me?” The ever-present question.
He didn’t answer. Just turned his back and stomped away.
Kasparian picked up the broken chair and slammed it upright. “You are in a combat above your head, boy,” he said through gritted teeth. “You, of all warriors, should know that any hold can easily be reversed.” He didn’t elaborate, but crashed through the shrubbery and disappeared. Some unlucky opponent—real or il lusory—was going to suffer that afternoon.
Nyel’s fury was unsettling, evoking the memory of my own mad rages, like a scent or a taste can raise long-buried events. A potent reminder not to lose all caution. Yet I also chose to see it as a measure of his generosity in allowing me the freedom to act against his own desires. I was not deluded into thinking him entirely benevolent, but neither could I believe him insincere in his efforts to give me something magnificent.
I could have explored the world of dreams for the next few hours, perhaps picked my dreamer and learned more of Aleksander’s plan. But the exploration was itself exhausting, so that even if I had been in control of the event, I likely would have deferred my curiosity until I took flesh through the dream. Instead, I stood in the clear space of the tiny lawn and began the kyanar, stepping through the movements to prepare myself for battle. Slow. Focused. Calming. As long as I wore this human body, I would maintain the habits that had served me well. And when I shifted—my skin prickled with anticipation, with hunger for the golden warmth and strength and the fiery melydda that would flood my veins—I, Seyonne, would remain in control.
CHAPTER 36
Aleksander’s face was ruddy in the firelight. “We need a way to neutralize the watch and get through the gates. Our informants say the Bek lords are locked in the cellar of the guard tower near the northern gates. The southern gate tower is the stronger defense, and the barracks are right beside it, but they don’t want to parade the prisoners through the town once the gates are open tomorrow morning. Too easy for stray Bek warriors to disrupt the executions. So they’ve made it easier for us. Once we’re through the gates, we can surprise the guards and, if we don’t take too long about it, have the prisoners out before the next guard change. Then we’ll join Terlach and Marouf to take Gan Hyffir. So ... I understand that some of you have the talent to get inside, take down the watch, and get the gates open ... is that right?” The Prince stood in the center of the small group, looking from one face to another as his fingers tapped the hilt of his sword. “That would make things a great deal easier.”
The ten men and women in the circle shifted uneasily and looked at Blaise, who was sitting on the sand, his right arm bound tightly to his chest. “Ordinarily, that’s my responsibility,” he said. “I think I can—”
“Indeed you cannot.” The woman came from out of the night behind the circle and handed Blaise a cup before sitting down beside him. Elinor. Her hair was braided and bound up around her head. The flames made her skin glow like burnished copper. “Unless some god has magically knit the bones in this arm, you’re not going to be able to fly or even defend yourself, much less take care of eight or ten Derzhi warriors. Someone else will have to do it. Gorrid, I know your easiest form is a zhaideg, but you’ve shifted to birds before. Roche has never had success with birds, and Brynna is at Gan Hyffir.”
“I won‘t,” said Gorrid, stretching out his legs, folding his arms across his chest, and leaning back against a saddle pack, as if to distance himself from the others in the huddled circle. “I won’t risk my neck for a
ny thieving Derzhi nobles. Let them all hang.”
“As I said, I’ll not hold it against anyone who wishes to stay behind,” said Aleksander. “But the Bek are not your enemies. They are a family of great honor that does not deserve what’s going to happen tomorrow. If we can set them free, they’ll listen to what we have to say. And if we can give them back Gan Hyffir, they’ll hold this region and bring others to our cause. You need to understand ...”
“Tell them,” I whispered as I elbowed my companion and shoved him out from behind the tent where we were crouched in the deepest shadows of the desert night.
“My lord Seyonne will open the gates of Tanzire,” said Feyd as he stepped into the circle of firelight. Eleven startled faces turned to the young man who bowed respectfully to Aleksander.
“He would be very pleased if you will permit him to take on this duty, Aveddi.”
Aleksander’s sharp gaze quickly searched the shadowed encampment. “Seyonne! I knew he’d come. Where is he?”
“He came to me this night ... in a dream,” Feyd stammered, his ivory skin flaring deep red as everyone stared at him. The young Suzaini’s broad chest was bare but for the strip of linen wrapped about his shoulder, covering the laceration in his back. In fact, other than the bandage and a great deal of curling black hair, he wore only the short, loose undergarment called “fenzai.” Once recovered from his astonishment at finding me in his tent as well as his dream, and having listened carefully to what I required of him, Feyd had insisted on dragging me immediately to the meeting where the Aveddi and his leaders were finalizing the plan for that night’s venture. He had been so eager to be of service, he had forgotten to put on his haffai, an excruciating oversight for a modest young Suzaini.
“Came to you in a dream ... is that possible? Has he been able to do this before?” I could not see Elinor’s expression, but her voice was troubled.
“Not to my knowledge,” said Aleksander. “But now, I would swear I’ve seen him in ... Gods, who knows what’s going on with the man? Tell us about him, Feyd.”
“Of course, Aveddi. I was dreaming of my father—Gossopar protect my sire on his mission this night—and in this dream, as my good lord father chastised me for my wounding in our last battle, the Lord Seyonne prevented me setting my father’s beard on fire. The Lord Seyonne expressed to me his deepest regards, Aveddi, and his unyielding faith in you. And the same for Blaise and Mistress Elinor and all the company, and he assured me that he will stand with us in all our ventures as far as is possible for him to do.”
“Go back to bed, Feyd. You’re still asleep,” Farrol called. “Your father’s beard is safe from you this night.”
A few others laughed with him. I’d be happy for the sorcerer to come along, as long as I don’t have to be too close to him ... I dreamed of my mother-in-law last night. Will she be in Tanzire, too? ... Saved my life at Andassar, and at least twice at Taíne Horet ... thankful he’s with us ...
“How can you speak lightly of this cursed Ezzarian?” Gorrid leaped up from the sand. “If he does come, he’ll likely slaughter more of us as well as our enemies. Do you so easily forget our brother Admet?”
The accusation hung in the air like smoke on a windless night. It was left to Blaise to answer. “If Admet betrayed us at Syra, as Feyd claims—”
“Admet could never betray us to the Derzhi. The traitor was someone else. Someone who loves them, who thinks Derzhi pigs can be ‘honorable.’ ” Gorrid glared at Aleksander. “This cursed godling Seyonne murdered Admet to hide the treachery, not to avenge it.”
“You may accept my word as I have given it to this company,” said the Prince in the quiet voice that was his most dangerous, “or you may challenge me as is the right of any man, but you will not impugn Seyonne’s honor, nor use the incident to divide us. Whatever Seyonne did, he did with reason and justice. I will believe that until someone brings me clear evidence otherwise.” He beckoned Feyd closer to the fire and turned his back on Gorrid, as if daring the angry man to strike. “Come, Feyd, where is Seyonne? I need to talk to him, to tell him our plan.”
Go on. Say it as I told you, lad. I pulled back behind the tent, leaned my head against the warm canvas, and listened.
“For the moment he chooses not to communicate with any human in the ordinary way, my lord. Even you should not expect it. But he says he will be with you and do whatever is needful.”
“I see.” A moment’s pause and then I heard Aleksander pivot on his heel. “Well, we must take him at his word, then, no matter how or when he chooses to speak it. Seyonne will open the gate. Roche, Petra, Cawsho, and Denys will come with me.”
“May I be permitted to ride with you also, my lord?” said Feyd nervously. “I should be at the gate ... at Tanzire ... believe ... if you would allow me the honor.”
There was a brief silence. “I heard good reports of you from Syra and Taíne Horet. Your wound is not a problem?”
“It is well healed, Aveddi.”
“All right. Ride with me. I need to learn more of you, I think.” Good. Aleksander was putting the pieces together at least a little. I wanted to keep Feyd at Aleksander’s side. There seemed to be no strict limit on the distance allowed between me and my dreamer; we just grew increasingly anxious the farther we stretched our bond. If I was going to concentrate on my business, I needed him close.
“Blaise, you’ll see to the reserves, then?” Aleksander was still at work.
“We’ll have five wait at the first break of the dunes in case you need help,” said Blaise. “Gar, Katya, Bertram, Yori, and myself. Farrol will lead the rest of the fighters straight to Gan Hyffir.”
“You? I thought that was settled.”
“I promised Linnie I’d go no farther than the dunes,” said Blaise, his unaccustomed grumbling attesting to the frustration of his injury. “One of us should be there, just in case someone needs to get away in a hurry. I can do that much at least.”
Departing footsteps and side conversations told me that the group was breaking up. Aleksander continued to review his plans and would do so until they rode out. Every man and woman would know exactly what was expected in the coming hours, and Aleksander would know exactly what to expect of them. He was a masterful commander. “Mistress Elinor, I trust you to implement your arrangements for the horses.”
“Mattei and Gerla have five extra horses fitted with weapons, water, and the clothing and banners you requested,” said Elinor.
“They should have arrived at Tanzire just after the gates closed at sunset, and will be camped outside the walls with the other latecomers. The gate guards are very strict about the closing. Gerla grew up in Tanzire and knows the town, if you should have further need of her. They’ll be expecting you at first watch, ready to see to your mounts as you go inside. If you’ve nothing more for me tonight, I’m needed back in Zif‘Aker.”
“Of course. Thank you, Mistress. The boy is better?”
“Much better. It was just a childhood fever.”
Fever. Evan. Say more. My mother had died of fever, and other people I’d known in Ezzaria. Children. Were fevers not worse in children? But the stream of the night flowed onward.
“Gorrid!” The Prince called a little louder. “Perhaps you could accompany Mistress Elinor back to Zif‘Aker. Capable though the lady be, two pair of arms and eyes are safer, and we cannot afford to lose either of you. Unless there is anything else ... ? Safe riding to all. May all of our gods stand with us in this night’s work.”
Shuffling footsteps approached my position—two men talking low. I ducked into Feyd’s tent and awaited the young man’s return, drawing darkness about myself in case Aleksander thought to poke his head in looking for me. Are you satisfied, old man? I’m hiding from him. Though perhaps it was as well we could not speak. I was confident in my decisions, but not yet ready to lay them out for scrutiny by those who could not possibly understand.
And Evan ... ill. I pictured him as I’d last seen him, standing wide-eyed in the fi
relit circle of old Yulai’s camp ... running to safety in Elinor’s arms. It was all I could do to refrain from following Elinor back to him. It’s not the time, I told myself. Not yet. Someday. But if I were to be a Madonai ... what then ... ?
A large body bulled through the small tent opening. “Lord Seyonne!” The ‘whisper’ was loud enough to wake a tree.
“Will you please lower your voice? No one is to know I’m here.”
“The Aveddi asked me privately of your whereabouts, just as you predicted. But I answered just as you told me. He didn’t like it when I said you would accept no private messages from him. He was ready to walk away, but then he stopped and asked if you seemed ‘well’ and ’easy.‘ I said that you seemed quite healthy and had no particular difficulty with any matter that I could see, if that was what he meant by ’easy.‘ My lord suggested that if you had made at least one bad joke in all your speaking, then such would signify that you were ’easy,‘ and he wouldn’t worry so much about you. I thought for a moment, and then I described how you had said you threatened a number of times to haunt his dreams, but had decided that mine were ’less pompous and more artful.‘ I wasn’t sure this was what the Aveddi meant, but he laughed most robustly and seemed satisfied. Is this permissible to report, sir? Since he was addressing me and not sending any message to you, I thought it would be acceptable to repeat it in your hearing.” Feyd’s pale bulk filled the dark tent, along with the smell of his dried sweat and the scented oil he used to curl his hair and beard.
“Yes. It’s all right.” Out of all expectation, wrapped up as I was in fear and mystery of such magnitude, I felt like laughing, too. But I had no wish to insult Feyd’s zealous obedience.
“Thank you, Feyd. Thank you very much. But no more. As of now, my words are only for you, and I must hear only your own thoughts and observations in return. It is a condition of my presence.” I had agreed to speak only with my dreamer and had already stretched the meaning of my vow.
