[Lanen Kaelar 03] - Redeeming the Lost (12 page)

No answer but silence.

I bowed my head, sorrow and a deep emptiness
round me, until a short while later a glorious scent, entirely out of place in
an open field, came wafting past me: bread and meat. And was that chelan? I
turned—and there, preceded only by the scent of what he bore, was Will arrived
like the wind of heaven, bearing food and drink. He put down his tray and woke
Maran gently. She sat up, moaned, and reached for the chelan. I was astounded
at the reaction of this body. As one of the Kantri, I would not even consider eating
when sorrow wrapped my soul, but this Gedri body craved fuel and I reached out
for it.

“Aye, you’re as bad as the Healers,” he said,
shaking his head. “They need to eat like horses when they’ve been working. Get
this down you.” He handed us both trenchers of fresh bread, spread with butter,
softened with gravy, and with shoes of roasted beef draped over all. I had
never tasted food more clearly, or needed it more. Though there was something—

“Will, where is Salera?’ I said, between
mouthfuls.

“She’s gone with the Kantri,” he said, and
smiled. “They were all so taken with her, and she is fascinated by them. She
said she’d come find me in the morning.” He shook himself. “As for you two,
there’s plenty more away back at the inn, but I’m blessed if I’m going to bring
it to you. Up you get.”

“Blessed indeed, lad,” said Maran, gulping
down the last of her chelan. “I’ve seen you often enough in the stone, Goddess
knows, along with that tall lad and the fine lass, but what are you called?’

“Willem of Rowanbeck, Mistress,” he said,
grinning. ‘The tall Healer is Vilkas, the young woman is Aral. You’re Lanen’s
mam?’

T am that,” she said, grinning back, “and it’s
not making my life any easier, I can tell you. I’m Maran of Beskin. And you!”
she cried, turning to me. I had risen, and now reached down to give her a hand
up. When she stood, we were of a height, and her gaze locked on mine. It was
the first time I’d looked at her closely. Name of the Winds, she appeared so
like my beloved Lanen that my heart ached with it. “I’ve seen you nearly every
day since Lanen found you, but I’ve no idea what your name is.”

T am called Varien, Lady,” I said.

“Varien,” she repeated softly. “It’s a good
name. And you can call me Maran, lad,” she said, grinning. “I’m a blacksmith,
not a lady. Goddess, what a voice you have on you.” She stared at me, frowning,
her gaze suddenly gone quite serious and her voice very low. “And you—I must
know. Unless I’m mad, or unless that damned thing deceived me, you’re no man.
You’re a dragon; transformed, somehow, but a dragon—that great silver one who
watched over Lanen out on the Dragon Isle.”

“What!” I cried, taken aback. “Don’t waste
time being coy, man! Is it true?”

“You are neither mad nor deceived. I am both
dragon and human,” I answered. Not for the first time, I wished that my mind
might be more under my control when faced with the unexpected. The Kantri are
seldom surprised. The Gedri, it seemed, were seldom otherwise.

She paled. “Bloody hellsfire. Then it’s true.
A transformation of kind. It’s started.” She grasped me by my shoulders. “Do
you have any idea how this was done, or who did it? How you were transformed?”

In my astonishment I answered without
thinking. “I have no idea. Lanen and I thought it was—all we could imagine was
that it was the Winds and the Lady.”

“Oh, save us all,” she said, sounding much
like Jamie in a bad mood. “It probably was exacdy that. Now all we have to do
is find out who or what on the other side has undergone the same
transformation.” She began cursing under her breath and strode off towards the
inn, leaving me a moment or two for thought.

That this woman was Lanen’s mother I never
doubted for an instant, though how Lanen could have grown so similar to one she
had never known was a wonder. The same headlong rush into action without
thought of the cost to herself, or indeed to anyone else; the same wildly
focussed intensity and determination about her. And the Winds bear me up, the
same eyes in a face so achingly familiar.

I stopped and blinked.

If she knew I had begun my life as one of the
Kantri, what else might she have learned?

I ran after her. I was better at running these
days. Time was, if I were lagging behind, I would have fallen by instinct onto
my “forefeet” that I might fly to catch up. My hands and knees had not been
that badly scraped for some months now. I was still far, far too slow to suit
myself, but at least I remained upright. Will trotted easily beside me, tray in
one hand, mugs in the other.

Vilkas and Aral awaited us outside, Rella
beside them. Aral watched Maran suspiciously, and I could not blame her—whatever
else might be said of her, she still reeked of the Rakshasa. As we approached I
noted that Aral had begun to summon her power, just in case. Vilkas, however,
simply stared.

As well he might. For the moment she was near
enough, she took his right hand in hers and went down on one knee before him,
bringing his hand to her lips. She might have been a great queen kneeling to
honour a subject who had served her well, for there was nothing of servility
about her, kneeling there in the twilight before him.

“I beg you to accept a mothers blessing for
saving the life of her daughter,” she said.

“Lady, arise, I pray you,” said Vilkas
gruffly. I tried hard not to smile. Vilkas was, after all, a very young man. “I
did what was required. I only wish I had been able to keep your daughter from
the clutches of that bastard Berys.” Between his clenched teeth, he added, “We
don’t even know where she is.”

Maran rose and grinned, and for a moment I saw
her as one of the Kantri—for this was not delight. This was baring her teeth,
and woe betide him who was its object.

“Ah. There I can help you. Did anyone think to
bring my pack?”

“As ever, Maran, I have looked after you,” I
said, pretending weariness. We grinned at each other as I handed over her pack.
I’d begged a double handspan of thick leather and sewn it, with double
stitches, over the gaping bum hole, so that it was as good as before.

We had been friends for nearly twenty years. I
knew she would have done the same for me, twice over. It still hurt. Like it or
not, Jamie stood between us now like a burning brand. It appeared that we were
both going to ignore that particular raging fire until we were forced to deal
with it.

She grinned, looking over the patch. “You do
fine work. I never knew you were so good with a needle.” She drew out the
Farseer once more, and I saw her flinch when she
touched it. Time she found a Servant of the Lady and got herself shriven, I
thought. She’s getting twitchy.

“This is the Farseer that Marik and Berys
created ere Lanen was born,” she said, handling it as though it burned her
fingers. “I have used it for years, but when Lanen left Hadronsstead, I—well,
you may assume that I have a rough idea of what has taken place.”

Varien stood beside me, and I could
practically hear his heart pounding. “Do you know where Lanen is now?”

She turned to him, her eyes bleak. “I’m not
certain, but I know she’s in Berys’s power. Where he is, there we will find
her.”

“Can you not see where Berys is, that we may
be certain where to look for her?” asked Vilkas.

“He’s wherever he has been living these ten
years past,” said Maran shortly. “I’ve never seen the place in person, I don’t
recognise it to give it a name. It’s a stone building with a large walled and
cobbled courtyard closed by two wooden doors. There’s a guard on the doors,
there are usually lots of people around—”

“It’s Verfaren right enough,” said Aral
flatly. “It’s just over three leagues distant from here.”

“Then in the Name of the Winds and the Lady,”
Varien cried, “let us be gone to Verfaren!”

“Patience, Master Varien, it isn’t that
simple,” I said, hating to have to quench his resolve. “For one thing, these
three”—I pointed to Will, Aral, and Vilkas—“are accused of murder in Verfaren,
and I’d rather not have to fight off King Sufis of Eli-mar’s Patrols unless and
until I’m forced to. For another thing, you must remember that whatever we may
know about him, to the rest of the world Master Berys is still the head of the
College of Mages, very highly respected and virtually untouchable. The College
more or less owns the town. In effect we’d be storming all of Verfaren, and we
don’t really have enough troops for that.”

I could not restrain the wild frustration that
was sweeping through me. “Even a few of the Kantri could easily overwhelm a
Gedri town,” I said urgently.

“Master Varien, I hear what your heart is
saying, but Rella’s right, it’s a bad idea,” said Will, unexpectedly. His voice
was, to my ear, maddeningly calm. “I know you’d risk anything for your lady:
but I had a chat with young Kedra earlier, and I don’t think you want your
people’s first act in their new home to be one of violence.”

“And don’t forget that Jamie is there now,”
said Rella. “He’ll not be sitting on his hands.” She looked up. “Come, we’re
all here now. Let us go in and talk over food. We won’t get Lanen back any the
faster for starving to death.”

“How can you think of food?” I cried. “Lanen—”

“Varien, you’re human now, and you were rather
busy earlier,” she said sharply. “That body needs food. You’re pale as
midwinter snow. Eat before you faint.” She grasped my arm and towed me into the
inn.

I wanted to object, but she was right. I was
ravenous. The first course that Will had brought us had barely taken the edge
off my hunger, and it seemed that the others felt the same. Rella had ordered a
good spread and for once we all ate our fill: there was a cold roast ham, the
rest of the hot roast beef with a thick gravy, carrot and parsnip, fresh bread
and dripping from the roast, and roasted apples and honeycakes. The beer was
nut-brown and cold.

When I had eaten my fill I stood up. The fire
was warm and the excellent food tempted me to stay longer than I must, but ever
I thought of Lanen. Truth be told, I could think of nothing apart from a
burning need to rush in and rescue Lanen as swifdy as I might. Alas, I had not
the power of my old form, or I could have flown in and—

“And what?” interrupted the neglected part of
my mind that was the voice of reason. “Slaughter innocents who got between me
and Berys? Destroy buildings looking for her? Make the Kantri appear as
monsters to be dreaded? Where is the wisdom in that? No. Wait. Think. Remember
the Lost, five kells ago. If they had stopped to plan, they might not have been
so devastated by the Demonlord.”

“Varien,” said a gruff voice. Maran had come
to sit beside me. She was smiting. “Just so you’re in no doubt, that was my
daughter you married at midwinter, young—well, young as a man you certainly
are.” She turned away suddenly, avoiding my glance. “She looked—she was
absolutely beautiful, wasn’t she?”

It took a moment before I could trust myself
to speak. “I had never imagined that such a creature as Lanen could exist,” I
said quietly, just for her ears. “Such beauty of soul, such strength of heart
and limb, and a glorious fearlessness that I am learning is rare in any race.
Yes, she is also beautiful, but compared to the truth of her soul, I think her
beauty is not important.” Maran still looked away. “She is a wonder, your
daughter Lanen,” I said.

Maran did not answer straightaway, but when
she did, she managed to look into my eyes. “I’m glad you know it, Varien. She
is indeed.” She looked away again, and spoke as quietly as I had. “And in case
you wanted to know, I wish with all my soul that I had never left her. I have
wished that every day and every night since I went away. I thought… my soul
to the Lady, Varien, I thought I was saving her life by drawing danger to
myself.”

“I hear the truth in your words, Lady Maran,” I
said softly. “But I am not the one you need to speak them to.”

To my surprise she looked back at me and
smiled wryly. “I know. I thought I’d try a practice run before it’s time for
the real thing.”

Suddenly I liked her, this woman so like my
beloved in spirit and in form. I drew her to me and kissed her cheek. “Do not
fear it, daughter. She has a large heart. It will take time, as it will take
the Restored time to adjust to a world forever changed. Trust her. I know she
takes pride in you, for she calls herself Lanen Marans-datter.”

“Does she now?” she said, her eyes strangely
vulnerable, a little half smile passing across her lips. “Well, well. There’s
hope in that, certain sure.”

I was about to respond when I had the
strangest feeling in my gut. I wondered briefly if I had eaten too much too
quickly, but it was not that kind of feeling—more an urgency. It pulled me to
my feet. I had gathered my cloak and my pack and was nearly to the door before
I had a coherent thought.

“Whither away, Master Varien?’ called Rella.

“I can wait no longer,” I said, desperate to
be gone. “I have played my part; I have welcomed the Kantri, I have helped to
restore the Lost. What is there now to keep me here, when Lanen is so near?’
None spoke. “I go to Verfaren,” I said. “Let any who wish to join me follow
after.”