Ashling

  Then all at once, it occurred to me there might be more of them. There must be.

  "Who else came?" I asked sharply with a shimmer of uneasy premonition.

  Rushton gave me a queer, lopsided smile, anticipating my reaction.

  "One other. Dameon."

  I stared at him incredulously. Maryon had sent Dameon, the blind empath guildmaster, to do battle with Malik and the rebels for Obernewtyn!

  XXXIV

  Dameon was sitting by Dragon's bed, holding her hand. She was oblivious of his presence, though some foolish bit of me had hoped he might have reached her. But no, she was locked in a sleep that must be close to the equine's longsleep, suspended in some netherworld between life and death.

  I could have wept for the sadness in his face and the bowed shape of his shoulders. I felt a rush of love at the sight of him that was nearly painful.

  Of course, he sensed me surge of emotions that I could not shield quickly enough. I saw it in his sudden stillness.

  "Elspeth," he murmured in his well loved voice.

  Only then did he turn his face to me, the white-blind eyes gleaming in the light of a single candle guttering low in a wall sconce behind me.

  "I could bear everything, if only she would wake," I murmured, coming to stand beside him.

  He rose to meet me, letting go of Dragon's fingers to take mine.

  "She will wake," he said. His words were a promise, but how could he know? He was no futureteller.

  "Oh, Dameon," I sighed.

  "There was a Beforetime story in one of the books you brought back from the underground library mat told the tale of a sleeping princess," he said, drawing me to sit by him.

  "A story," I said flatly.

  He smiled and the compassion in his expression was like a slap, for what right did I have to expect him to comfort me? Had he not known Matthew longer?

  "The story tells of a beautiful princess who may or may not have had red hair, and who, cursed, pricked her hand on a poisoned needle," Dameon went on. "She fell into an enchanted sleep from which none could waken her."

  I looked down at Dragon, and shivered.

  "She slept long, until a prince came who was her truest love, and the enchantment between them allowed him to break the spell."

  "How?" I breathed, drawn into the story in spite of myself. "What did he do to waken her?"

  "He woke her..." Dameon stopped in front of the bed, and took Dragon's pale hand again and lifted it to his lips, "... with a kiss."

  Someone laughed. A nervous little gust of air that told me Kella had followed me, but I could only think of Matthew—the only love Dragon had ever known, and an unwilling one at that. Would that love ever return to kiss her awake?

  "It is a ... lovely story," I said huskily.

  Dameon nodded. "It is. Miky and Angina have made it into a song, and they will sing it to you."

  "Dameon..."

  He shook his head and gathered me into his long arms. "I know."

  He patted my back as if I were a very young child or a frightened animal, his empathic Talent wrapping me in a warm blanket of affection and reassurance. I was dimly surprised to find he had erected an empathic barrier between us. He must have sensed I would not want my emotions bared to him.

  "Matthew has been taken," he said gently. "But no slaver or shackle will hold him for long. He will return, just as he swore he would. As full of gossip and wild stories as ever."

  Listening to his soft accents, I felt for the first time that it might truly be so.

  "Well, this is touching," Rushton said from the door. "When you have finished the tender reconciliations, perhaps you will spare us a moment."

  Sitting in the kitchen with the rain pattering against night-dark windows, Rushton told me for the first time what Maryon had futuretold.

  "She said she saw eight of us journeying to Sutrium, and your face, Elspeth, at the end of the journey. There was more—something about thirteen going over water." He hesitated and I sensed there was something here he had kept back. "She did not know what the futuretelling meant, but she said you would. She said it had something to do with Obernewtyn and figuring out what to do next." He frowned, as if this was not exactly right. "Something about finding the right road to tread."

  He made a gesture indicating that I was to go on from there, and so I did. It took a long time to tell everything that had happened since I came to Sutrium, even with some small deletions. Last of all I described the meeting with the rebels.

  "I do not understand why this Jakoby woman would make such an offer," Miryum said suspiciously when I had finished. "What does she get out of helping us?"

  "She wouldn't see it as helping us or the rebels," I said. "There was a problem and she just offered a Sadorian solution. Sadorians are ... are not like Landfolk, and I don't think you can judge them by our values. But honor is very important to them so I don't think they would cheat or lie."

  "Are you so sure this woman's offer of the Battlegames is what Maryon's futuretelling concerned?" Dameon asked softly. "She said nothing about battles."

  "It would be too much of a coincidence for it not to mean Sador," Hannay said. "Where else would we go on a journey over water? Across the Suggredoon? Maryon said Elspeth would know, and she knows about the trip to Sador and the Battlegames."

  "Could it have meant something about rescuing the Farseeker ward?" Freya asked. "He has been taken over water after all."

  "Where would we search for him, and how?" Rushton asked. He shook his head regretfully. "I wish we were going to find Matthew, but my instincts say the journey foreseen by Maryon is the one offered by this Jakoby. It fits too neatly. Why else would so many of us come, if not to take part in these Battlegames and win the alliance we need?"

  "But there are not enough anyway," Miky burst out. "There are only eight of us, nine counting Elspeth, and Maryon said thirteen of us would go over the water."

  Rushton frowned. "Ten if we count Kella, and Dragon would make eleven—we couldn't leave her here after all. And twelve counting Domick."

  "Oh," Kella said, paling a little. "Domick can't come. He was here this afternoon before you. He and two others have been sent to Morganna with some Councilmen. He won't be back for ages." Her face was serene but her eyes slanted away, full of pain. "I... I told him you wanted me to come back to Obernewtyn. He... he said he thought I should go. He left a report for... for guildmerge."

  I did not know what to say to stop her pain, so I said nothing. The others saw the healer's anguish without understanding it.

  "What about the fact that Brydda thinks it a bad idea for us to go?" Miryum said, still surprisingly opposed to the idea of going to Sador. "We should consider what that means."

  "Its meaning is clear enough. He wants to discourage us because he thinks we will lose," Hannay said.

  "We need this alliance," Rushton said, looking at Miryum with some puzzlement, as surprised as I that opposition should come from this quarter.

  "It is possible this battle will not happen. Perhaps we must go to Sador for some other reason that has yet to be revealed." Dameon said slowly. "Maybe we will have the chance of proving to this Malik and the other rebels that we are human."

  I hesitated, then shook my head, for there was no point in letting anyone have false hope.

  "Why didn't you coerce him into agreeing to the alliance?" Miryum demanded.

  "That is what Domick would advocate. But don't you see? We can't make them think as we wish. Not if we are to be allies. That would make us as bad as the Council. Maybe even worse."

  There was a silence. A log in the fire cracked loudly, making those nearest the hearth jump.

  "But would we not be using coercion against them in this competition?" Freya asked in her velvety voice.

  I nodded. "But they would know what to expect, and no one will die because of what we do. They will use their skills against us without a qualm and we shall use ours."

  "A sophistry," Freya said.

&nbsp
; "Maybe, but it's a difference that makes sense to me," I snapped. "There is no point in us going into these Battlegames imagining we can all be friends afterward. We will never be accepted by the rebels. We have to show the Maliks of the Land that we can defend ourselves from them!"

  "A show of strength," Miryum said approvingly.

  "If you like. Or maybe just revealing ourselves for what we are."

  "And what are we?" Dameon asked, his voice threaded with sadness. "Warriors? Misfits? That is part of our trouble. We do not know what we are, and so we are constantly reacting to things, rather than taking the initiative."

  "Maryon said we would find the road to tread on this journey over water," Rushton said pensively. "We have to see what happens. It might be, as Dameon said, that we will not fight these Battlegames, but we must go prepared to do so, just in case." He sighed. "Lud knows, I would not have chosen this way to force the rebels to take us seriously, but is it so bad? A contest of skills to show what we can do? Better, surely, than real battle?"

  Kella shook her head.

  "There is another thing you should know," I said, remembering. "After the contest, the rebels plan to meet and to decide once and for all when and how the rebellion will be staged."

  Rushton's eyes flared with an unholy green fire. "Well, that puts it in a very different light. By winning, we would have gained the right to take part in their councils."

  "And, of course, we will win," Miryum said, seeming to have forgotten her reservations.

  "What are the games anyway?" Angina asked. "How do we play them?"

  I had to admit that I did not know anymore than I had told them.

  "Ritual battles this Jakoby called them," Fian mused. "It doesna' sound so bad."

  "Thirteen to travel but only ten contestants," Milky said pensively. "Which ten? Dragon cannot fight, nor surely Dameon. Angina and I have never fought in our lives. I... am not sure I could."

  "If Maryon sent us, there must be some reason for it," Rushton said stoutly. "As to battles... well, we must make do with those of us who can fight if it comes to it."

  "I do not think we need be frightened of ten unTalents," Miryum said complacently. "Hannay, Elspeth and I can deal with them between us."

  It was late the following day before we stood on the deck of a ship bound for Sador.

  Contrary to Maryon's futuretelling of thirteen, there were only eleven of us, counting Dragon. We could not leave without her and Kella had assured us that the journey would not hurt her.

  Reuvan, calling to drop off a homing bird at Brydda's instructions, had learned we meant to travel to Sador at once. Advising that we leave it to him to organize a ship, he arranged passage for all of us with a seafaring friend and long-time secret rebel supporter.

  Powyrs turned out to be a jolly, bold, brown-faced man with twinkling eyes, and a habit of winking that startled us somewhat until we were accustomed to it. He had no qualms about carrying gypsies. I had the feeling he would not have given a damn if we told him we were Misfits.

  I was standing on the deck of Powyrs' sturdy little ship, The Cutter, waiting for the Council inspectors to come and give final clearance for us to sail, when Kella pinched my arm to get my attention. Leaning close, she whispered into my ear in an absurdly furtive way that Reuvan was coming. I was not surprised that he had come to see us off, but I was startled to see that Dardelan was with him, as well as a long-limbed, exotic girl with yellow almond-shaped eyes and a satiric smile. She could only be Jakoby's daughter. If anything, she was more beautiful than her mother, but even from a distance I could see that she lacked the older woman's powerful aura of authority.

  "You are the first to leave but the rest of us will not be far behind," Reuvan said easily, as they came up to us. "Malik and his cronies are traveling tomorrow, and I will travel with Jakoby and the rest on the Zephyr the next day."

  "Am I to be presented, or shall I stand like a nameless dolt?" the dark Sadorian girl asked haughtily.

  Dardelan flushed and apologized. "This is Jakoby's daughter. Bruna, this is Elspeth."

  "I am pleased to know you," I said.

  "Ah. I-am-pleased-to-know-you," Bruna said, exactly mimicking my intonation.

  Unnerved a little by this and by her frank scrutiny, I busied myself, introducing the others. When Dardelan and Rushton shook hands, they exchanged a measuring look and seemed satisfied by what they saw.

  "You will like my land, of course," Bruna said haughtily. "Your people are welcome there, for like the tribes they have no need to mark the ground where they have been, like a rutting beast marking its territory. Unlike these Landfolk." Her eyes ran over our halfbreed gypsy attire approvingly, but she gave poor Dardelan a look of amused contempt.

  "In Sador, there is room to run with the wind and ride the kamuli," she went on, seeming to address all of us now. Wearing little, despite the gray, chilly weather, she was as oblivious of the cold as she was to the stares of passers-by at her outlandish garments. No wonder Jakoby had looked amused when she said Sadorian women needed scant looking after.

  The girl waved an imperious finger under Dardelan's nose. "And now, you will guide me to the place of many trees. The for-rest. These I do not see in my own desert and there might be some beauty in them worthy of a song." "Of... of course," Dardelan stammered, and she bore him away. "A pup watching over a bear," Reuvan said. "A bear cub,"T corrected, thinking for all her imperiousness, Bruna lacked her mother's subtlety and dangerous grace.

  It began to rain lightly, as the inspectors arrived and set about searching the ship from top to bottom, seeking Land-goods which were being exported without tax being paid to the Council. When Powyrs suggested we go inside, I was glad enough to do so. The fishy smell of the ship's oiled deck and the movement of it running up and down the swelling waves were making me feel distinctly queasy. "I will want to cast off as soon as this is over to catch the out tides. Go into the main salon," Powyrs said. He looked at Reuvan. "I will come there and warn you before we are to depart."

  As we trooped along the deck, I could not help but think of Matthew, being led onto The Calor Lady's gangplank in chains. Had he felt this strange, unsettling nausea? Was he somewhere out over the ocean being rained on too?

  I glanced back and noticed an old beggar in filthy brown robes come up to Powyrs and speak with him. At first the seaman shook his head decisively, but then he stopped and seemed to be listening intently. I was curious enough to farseek but the queer static from whatever had tainted the sea about Sutrium's shores prevented this.

  "Come on," Miky said, tugging at me.

  The salon turned out to be spacious and light, despite dark wood panelling on the walls and roof, and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. This was due to three enormous box windows along the outside wall, criss-crossed by wide-spaced metal grilles. Cushioned seats were built into the windows. Elsewhere, a table, chairs and various other pieces of furniture were fixed to the floor. The galley was adjoining this room and Kella's eyes lit up as she surveyed its miniature neatness.

  Rushton dropped into a window seat and gestured to Reuvan, Miryum and Hannay to sit beside him. They talked in low serious voices while Angina and his twin began to tune their instruments. Kella came out of the galley and stood at a window. Her eyes looked out to sea, but I was sure she was seeing nothing but the face of her bondmate.

  Powyrs had taken Dameon below to a cabin with Dragon. I moved to the door with me thought of going to sit with him, but Powyrs returned blocking my way.

  "Casting off!" he warned in a stentorian bellow. "All who will not sail should get ashore."

  Reuvan rose. "I'd better move. A seaman is ruled by the tides, and if catching the tide means an unwilling passenger or two, then so be it."

  The ship lurched suddenly and all of us pitched sideways, save Reuvan, who was accustomed to walking on a shifting deck.

  He smiled, somewhat wistfully. "You must learn to dance with the sea—not tread on her toes. I must go or I will be traveling to Sad
or with you!"

  We went out on deck to farewell him. The rain had ceased and the clouds had parted to reveal the sun sinking toward the horizon.

  As the ropes were cast away by Powyrs' crew and the shore began to slip away, a curious but definite feeling of loss assailed me; a feeling that I had somehow cast off from my life and was sailing toward a new one.

  From the looks on the faces gathered along the edge of the deck, I was not alone. The others gazed back to the shore, their faces reflecting their unease. This was the first time any of us had left the Land. There were numerous disaster stories Landfolk told about the perils of the seas and suddenly the wildest tales seemed to gain substance.

  The sun sank into the sea, becoming increasingly large and orange as it did so, staining the gray-edged clouds that framed it a livid pink. I was intrigued to feel the taint in the water fading. That meant whatever had caused it was confined to the shore area. Perhaps some Beforetime container had broken under the sea, spilling its poisons.

  "That's that then," Kella said huskily, when the sun finally vanished, and Sutrium fell into purple haze that merged it with the horizon. "I feel as if I'm leaving a part of myself here."

  I forebore to point out the obvious.

  "To Sador," Miky sighed dreamily on the other side of me.

  "I feel sick," Miryum said, and I was startled to see that she looked bright green about the face and lips.

  "I do not feel so well myself," I murmured.

  XXXV

  Kella set about adjusting our senses to the movement of The Cutter, but some of us responded better to her treatment than others.

  The empaths were only mildly affected by the motion of the waves and were quickly eased. I was less fortunate.

  Because of the instinctive blocking ability my mind appeared to have developed as a response to intrusion, I had to hold it open to the healer. This was not easy and, when she was done, the wooden decks continued to pitch, rendering me queasy and disorientated.

  Disappointed, I had asked Powyrs if there was not some seaman's remedy that would settle my stomach.