The Rebellion (48 page)

She was very small and dainty and, like Rushton, had adapted gracefully to the ship’s movements. I felt myself to be as long and gangling as a string bean beside her.

“I have wished for the chance to speak with you, Guildmistress,” Freya said. “Rushton spoke of you on our journey here, and truly, your life has been one of danger and marvels. My own story is nothing to yours.”

My heart bumped against my chest in a sort of frightened leap, and all my hard-won composure vanished at the thought that Rushton might have confided that he had once loved me.

“Tell her,” Angina prompted Freya.

She flushed prettily. “Rushton rescued me.”

Of course.

“I had come to Darthnor with my father. He is … was … a horse trader.” A fleeting unhappiness showed in her eyes. “Along with his horses, there came a day that he offered his daughter for sale.…” She swallowed as if her throat hurt. “Rushton offered to buy me and the horses as a lot. He seemed a great man when he rode up on his white horse and threw a fortune in coin at my father’s feet.”

What sort of life had she led to be flattered that a man offered to buy her as a lot with horses? If Rushton had done that to me, I would have just as likely picked the coin up and thrown it back at him! Though probably he had meant it to be a gesture of contempt for Freya’s father.

“I did not know until later that Alad was with Rushton and that the horses had told him I was … a Misfit,” she went on. “But he said he would have bid whether I was Talented or not, for people should not be sold any more than beasts. He told me about Obernewtyn, though not where it was, and offered to bring me there, where I could stay and commune all I wished with horses, or I might have a bag of coin and go where I willed.”

Her lashes tilted secretively, and I saw that she had not needed much convincing to choose Obernewtyn. I felt a rush of savage jealousy and was astonished. Was this violent, pointless rage part of love, too?

“You are a beastspeaker, then?” I asked, and was horrified to hear how cold I sounded.

“Not exactly,” Freya laughed, obviously taking my sharpness for a joke. “I am an empath, I suppose, but am not able to receive anything much.”

Thank Lud for that!

“She may not be much good at receiving emotions,” Angina said cheerfully, “but she has a unique variation of projective empathy.”

“Unique,” I echoed.

Angina gave me a frankly puzzled stare.

“Dameon calls her an enhancer,” he said. “She can enhance another’s Talent. Her ability seems to be closest to what I do when I amplify Miky’s projected emotions. Only Freya can do it to whomever she chooses or switch it off altogether.”

Freya’s remarkably expressive eyes darkened. “I cannot reach everyone. Never my father. There was a wall in him—a natural mindshield, Dameon called it. And since I saw no one but him, I scarcely knew I had a Talent before I came here. I lived in terror of my father, for he was violent and angry much of the time. He kept me with him only because I could calm even the most uncontrollable horses.”

“The interesting thing is that her empathic Talent works with animals as well,” Angina said eagerly.

“Sometimes it made people furious when they sold a wild horse for a few coins, only to see me riding it a little later,” Freya went on. “Several times we had to leave moon fairs quickly because someone claimed I had used the black arts on their horse. My father feared he would be called up by the Herders to explain.

“In Guanette, we had to leave before my father had completed his bargains. That is what made him drink and decide to sell me in Darthnor. I wonder, now that he is sober, if he thinks the price for me was fair,” she added sadly.

The clear hurt in her face robbed me of bitterness. I could imagine how little joy there had been in her life. My head ached with the effort of trying to bring order to the whirl of my emotions.

“All that’s over now,” Fian said. “Freya’s in great demand with the novices, because whenever she’s around, they’re all smarter and quicker than usual.”

“Unfortunately, my ability to enhance is only an illusory sort of boosting,” she said diffidently. “It lets me show them what they could do, and so they strive harder.”

“Which means they learn better and faster,” Miky said, wandering over to join us.

“I am still learning myself,” she disclaimed, flushing. “Speaking of which, Dameon is waiting to give me a lesson as soon as he has eaten.” She smiled at me again, her eyes revealing, of all things—the most painful to me just then—shy admiration. “Rushton told me you are a beastspeaker and might easily have led that guild instead of Alad, if you had wanted it. I wish I could speak to the horses the way you do, rather than simply feeling at them, but I am learning to use signals with them.”

She turned to retrieve the tray of food and went out of the salon with it.

“She’s nice, isn’t she?” Miky asked.

“Yes,” I said bleakly.

I looked over at Rushton and found him watching me. I dropped my eyes quickly, feeling dizzy and heart-sore.

A little later, he crossed the salon to look out the window where I was seated. Flustered by his nearness, I looked out, too, and watched a lone seabird spiraling on the winds.

“I think I could love this life,” Rushton said softly. “It is very peaceful.”

Something in me trembled in fury. How easily he used the word
love
. I wanted to ask if his love for the sea would be more enduring than his love for me, but I bit my tongue and swallowed the salty taste of blood.

“We are very different,” I said icily.

His hands tightened where they rested on the sill. They were brown and strong, and the thought came to me of how they would feel against my skin. Ruthlessly, I pushed the vision away, mortified at my lack of control.

To my relief, Powyrs came in to convey a request from his men that the twins play them a few songs. They had played a great deal to while away the anxious hours as we waited for the wind.

The empaths obliged and collected their instruments. Powyrs made to follow them out, but Rushton stopped him to ask about Templeport.

Powyrs glanced wistfully at the door as the strains of music drifted in, but, obligingly, he set down his jug.

“It is the only real settlement in all of Sador. The tribes are nomadic and move constantly about the desert, living in tents. They believe they should not leave any sign of their passing. The only permanent construction in all of Sador is their Earthtemple, and that is in Templeport. They regard the port itself as a necessary evil, because it is the only place along the Sador coast where boats can put in. All the rest is murderous high cliffs.”

“What else is there besides a temple?” Rushton asked curiously.

Powyrs shrugged. “There are lots of people from the Land, and maybe from other places, but they are not allowed to build huts or houses. They have to set up tents, like Sadorians. Being nomadic is part of their religion, and it is terribly important to them.”

“What
is
their religion?” asked Fian, abandoning his books to listen.

“It is not easy to tell such a thing simply. Central to it is
their love of the land. By that, I mean the earth itself. To a Sadorian, nothing is more important. All life rises from it and returns to it. They think humans are no more important than any other creature. They don’t believe in Lud at all. They think the land is infused with an earth goddess. They don’t have priests, but some Sadorians are sent from birth to be Temple guardians. It is a great honor. Everything in Sador occurs under the guidance of the Temple and its guardians.”

“It sounds very different to Herder lore,” Daffyd murmured.

“Truly,” Powyrs said. “Where a Herder believes humans are made by Lud to rule over the world, the Sadorians believe they are important only as part of the harmonious whole. The Herders claim everybody has to think their way or Lud will send the Great White again. In Sador, belief is a matter of personal choice.” He leaned forward, his blue eyes twinkling sardonically. “Funny thing is, Sadorians are a lot more devout by choice than Landfolk bound by Herder lore.”

“I gather you don’t like the Herders,” Rushton said.

Powyrs winked angrily, a peculiar combination. “What’s to like? I admire the Sadorians, though I don’t go for putting land before people. Now if it was the sea …”

“How can these Sadorians live off a desert?” Hannay wondered.

“Most of their needs come from the spice groves inland at the foot of the mountains. Sadorians weave cloth from a fiber they get from the trees’ bark, and they get sugar and medicines from its leaves and sap, and a potent fement from its berries. Most importantly, they get spice from its flowers, and they trade that for everything else the trees cannot offer.”

“What about water?” Fian asked.

“There are natural springs all around the perimeter of the
desert that water the groves, and in the desert there are isis pools. The Sadorians call them the tears of the goddess.”

“What of the slave trade?” Rushton asked. “Do the Sadorians involve themselves in it?”

Powyrs chuckled. “Oh yes. The Sadorians involve themselves, all right. They send slavers and anyone proven to have dealt with them out into the desert without water. If the slavers make it to the other side, they are freed.”

“Do many survive?” Kella asked.

The seaman grinned wolfishly. “One that I’ve heard of, and he was stark raving mad. The Temple looks after him, though, just as it does anyone who is sick or aged or who can’t keep up the pace of the kar-avans.”

“Kar-avans?” Kella echoed.

“They are what a group of Sadorians on the move call themselves. And Sadorians are always on the move.”

The ship listed slightly, wiping the smile from his face. “Got to watch these fools who call themselves seamen or they’ll run my
Cutter
up on a shoal,” he muttered, hurrying outside.

“I have to get a look at that Temple,” Fian said with all the fanatical determination of a teknoguilder on the trail of new information. “Garth will kill me if I don’t.”

“And I’ll kill you if you start any fuss,” Rushton said with perfect seriousness. “We’re not here to tread on Sadorian toes. There’s every likelihood that this Temple will be out of bounds to Landfolk.”

Fian subsided, looking chastened; then, at Rushton’s request, he and Kella went to retrieve the twins, Dameon, and Freya.

When we had all gathered, Rushton squared his shoulders in the way he did when conducting guildmerge. “Tomorrow
we will reach Sador,” he said. “I have no doubt we can win these Battlegames, but this is the first time we will pit ourselves against unTalents who know what we can do, and this will season us and allow us to see how we function under stress. I want you all to store up impressions about the battle, thoughts and suggestions that can be shared during guildmerge when we return to Obernewtyn.

“One warning. Under no circumstances are you to use your Talents on anyone in Sador, except during the games. No farseeking or coercing, no empathising. Although these rebels will be our opponents in the Battlegames, we hope to fight beside them in the future as allies. We must be able to offer a code they will trust and assure them they will not be violated by our abilities.”

He glanced once about the salon to emphasize this point. The others nodded, but I thought of Malik’s cold laughter and doubted any code Rushton could promise would impress him. Everything would hinge on winning.

“Daffyd has agreed to fight with us,” Rushton went on. “Dragon cannot take part, and we should assume that Dameon will be unable to participate as well. That makes us ten if we include Daffyd and myself. And though I have no usable Talent to offer, I have battle skills, and there may be need for these.”

His green eyes shifted to me, but I looked away quickly, afraid of what he might see in my face.

“I do not feel that I will disadvantage us,” he added pointedly, and I realized he thought my refusal to meet his eyes indicated my disapproval of his inclusion.

At the end of his speech, Rushton asked me coldly to see him in his chamber after the nightmeal.

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