Authors: Katharine Kerr
The Silver Mage (51 page)
She found Jahdo upstairs in the long bedroom he shared with Cotzi. He was sitting at the window and looking out at Cerr Cawnen spread out below, a view tufted with clots of mist from the lake. When Niffa joined him, he looked up and managed a smile.
“What be all this?” Jahdo said. “Did my Cotzi send you here to cheer me?”
“She did just that,” Niffa said. “She does worry.”
“I be not mad with grief or suchlike. Truly, life on the caravan road be a dangerous thing. I nearly did die myself twice or thrice, as well you and Cotzi both do know.” He paused to lay a hand on his right knee, broken years before in a fight with bandits. “But what does irk and gall me, sister of mine, is that one so young should die and an old man like me still live.”
“That does happen often enough that it should come as no amazement.”
“True enough, but for some daft reason, never did I think it would come to me and mine.” He stood up and smiled again. “I’ll be going down now to ease Cotzi’s heart.”
“My thanks! That were best. And think on this. It may be that the gods did keep you safe for some reason we cannot know.”
Jahdo merely snorted at the idea, but Niffa knew, in the wordless way that omens often come to dweomermasters, that she’d spoken an inadvertent truth. They’d barely reached the ground floor of the house when a pounding on the front door proved the omen.
Jahdo flung open the door to reveal the blacksmith’s apprentice, his face dead-pale with alarm.
“Mistress Niffa,” he gasped out. “There be a dragon here in town. He did demand to speak with you.”
“What color be this wyrm?” Niffa said.
“All silvery, like, with bits of blue here and there. He does lair at the old temple.”
“Rori! He be a friend, fear not.”
The apprentice looked less than reassured, but Niffa hurried past him. Her clogs clattered on the stone-laid alleyways as she trotted along. The temple stood some distance from her brother’s house, round back and just down the hill. As she drew near, she could smell dragon, but trees blocked the temple from her view.
“Rori!” she called out. “Be you here?”
“I am,” he called back, his voice as deep as thunder. “And the bearer of ill news indeed.”
Niffa turned cold all over as the omen returned to her mind. She made her way through the trees and straggly weeds to find the dragon lounging on the remains of the temple’s roof. She clambered up on fallen blocks of stone until she was more or less at his level.
“I’d guess the trouble be the Horsekin,” she said. “Bain’t?”
“It is indeed. An army of them is assembling up north, and they seem to be headed this way.”
“Only seem to be?” She clutched at the tiny comfort of the words.
“Where else would they be going?”
The comfort vanished. “True spoken,” she said. “We be the only prize worth fighting for in this part of the land. Have we any chance of fending them off?”
“Not alone. I’m on my way to Prince Daralanteriel. He’s allied with you, and he has archers.”
“Not enough. I be no fool, Rori.”
“Alas, ’tis true.” He lowered his head, and his oddly human, dark blue eyes watered in sympathy. “Still, it’s far too early to give up hope. Dar can call upon his alliance with Deverry. It’s obvious that if Cerr Cawnen falls, the Westlands will go next, and then the Horsekin will be at the Deverry border.”
“Will the prince of the Slavers see that as jeopardy?”
“Of course! And so will the High King once the prince informs him. Now. Is Jahdo still Chief Speaker here?”
“He is.”
“It’ll be up to him to keep your people from panic, and I can’t think of a better man for the job.”
“No more can I. He’ll be mustering the town council as soon as I do tell him.”
“Good! Besides, if arrows won’t turn the Horsekin back, there’s dweomer, too, for a weapon.”
The dweomer was already warning her of disaster. For Jahdo’s sake, she kept that knowledge to herself.
After Rori left, flying straight south like a silver spear hurled into the blue, Niffa lingered among the fallen stones of the temple. She used the trees, swaying in the summer wind, as a focus and contacted Dallandra. She repeated the gist of Rori’s message and saw her fellow dweomermaster’s image turn pale.
“This be horrible news, but Rori be on his way back to you,” Niffa said. “He’ll be telling you more than I know.”
Dalla’s image, floating on the surface of a shallow stream, nodded her agreement. “Go tell Jahdo,” Dallandra said. “I’m going straight to Prince Dar with this.”
“Well and good, then. I be remembering Cleddrik. He were the fellow from Penli, who did come to us begging for shelter behind our walls should war come upon us. I did wonder at his fear, but it did turn out that he were merely prudent.”
A
n exhausted Rori returned to the royal alar with the sunset and found a council of war waiting for him out in the meadow. Although Arzosah had gone off hunting earlier in the day, Dallandra and Salamander had joined Daralanteriel and the banadar. In the sky, a few clouds caught the sinking light like streaks of blood across the blue, or so they seemed to Dalla’s troubled mind.
n exhausted Rori returned to the royal alar with the sunset and found a council of war waiting for him out in the meadow. Although Arzosah had gone off hunting earlier in the day, Dallandra and Salamander had joined Daralanteriel and the banadar. In the sky, a few clouds caught the sinking light like streaks of blood across the blue, or so they seemed to Dalla’s troubled mind.
When Rori finished his report, Prince Dar swore softly to himself. He turned to his banadar and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“The situation’s plain enough,” Calonderiel said. “If the Horsekin take Cerr Cawnen, then they’ll have a fortified salient.” Cal turned to the dragon. “Do you think we can defend Cerr Cawnen?”
“Not unless we move settlers up there. It’s too far north, too isolated. You’d need a new gwerbretrhyn and a thousand good riders and archers to hold it.”
“And how many farms,” Salamander put in, “would it take to feed them all?”
“Huh!” Calonderiel snorted profoundly. “We can barely hold onto the Melyn River Valley as it is. Dar, sometimes I wish you’d never made that alliance with Jahdo’s people.”
“But I did make it,” Daralanteriel said, “and cursed if I’ll break my word.”
Calonderiel sighed and shook his head in frustration.
“We’ve got to do something,” Dallandra joined in. “We can’t just let the Horsekin take that city and enslave everyone in it. That would be horrible.”
“The Horsekin are prone to doing horrible things,” Salamander said. “The question is, can we stop them from perpetrating this one?”
“And the answer to that is most likely that we can’t,” Calonderiel said with a shrug. “I don’t like the idea any more than you do, my darling, but we have to be hardheaded—”
“You what?” Dallandra’s rush of rage made it hard for her to speak. She took a deep breath and began again. “There are four thousand people in that town—four thousand souls who deserve better than being dragged off and sold in a Horsekin market! The ones they don’t kill outright, that is, or torture to death.”
The men and the dragon merely looked at her with a certain sympathy, as if she’d been taken ill.
“I will not stand for it,” Dallandra went on. “If I have to, I’ll leave Dari with Sidro and Grallezar and go to live in Cerr Cawnen. Maybe Niffa and I can work dweomer to defend the town, since you’re all dishonorable enough to turn your back on our sworn allies.”
Salamander and Calonderiel broke out talking at once. Rori silenced them with a deep rumble of laughter.
“So,” the dragon said, “we don’t want to see Dallandra in Horsekin hands, but the thousands of women and children in Cerr Cawnen don’t matter? I think me she’s beaten us all in this game of carnoic.”
“Well, ye gods!” Calonderiel snarled. “I suppose having good men die with them will make matters better? Dalla, don’t be a fool!”
Dallandra choked back the nasty remarks that filled her mouth. She took a deep breath. “If you can’t see reason, then I’m going to just get up and leave.”
She rose to her knees, but Calonderiel flung up one hand in a gesture that made her pause.
“Get up and leave.” Calonderiel spoke each word very carefully, as if he’d never heard up them before. “Get up and leave. Sit down, Dalla! You’ve just given me a splendid idea.”
Dallandra sat as the idea occurred to her as well.
“So,” Cal said. “What if we move the people out of Cerr Cawnen before the Horsekin get there?”
The other men goggled at him while the dragon laughed again.
“Well, by the silver shit of the Star Gods, think!” Cal continued. “Dar, for months you’ve been saying how desperately the Melyn River Valley needs settlers.”
“So I have,” Daralanteriel said, grinning. “Sometimes, Banadar, you put us all to shame. Do you think they’ll abandon their homes?”
Everyone looked at Dallandra. “I can’t speak for them,” she said, “but they’re not stupid or mad.”
“Of course!” Dar turned to her. “This could solve a fair many problems, like building the Falcon dun. I’ve seen their town, you know. The Cerr Cawnen folk know how to build fortifications. And I’ll be needing a winter dun myself, soon.”
Rori slapped his tail on the ground. Everyone turned to look at him.
“It may take time to persuade them,” the dragon said. “We’d best slow the Horsekin down to give you that time. Fortunately, my prince, you have allies in the air. Arzosah and Medea will enjoy scattering their horses as much as I will.”
“No doubt.” Daralanteriel rose, abruptly restless. “But it’s a long way to Cerr Cawnen from here. We’d best get on the road with the dawn. Banadar, we want a fast-moving mounted force with extra horses.”
“Just so.” Calonderiel got up to join him. “It would take the entire alar at least ten days to reach Cerr Cawnen.”
“A fortnight, more like, with the herds and flocks,” Salamander said. “It’s still a good hundred miles away, isn’t it? We have to cross a range of hills, too.”
“That’s why I want a small force. I’m not risking the alar’s children, either, by taking them anywhere near the town and the Horsekin. Carra can lead everyone as well as I can. She can find a safe spot for most the alar to wait while we—” Dar paused to glance at Calonderiel and Dallandra. “—while we travel on ahead. What do you think, Cal? A troop of twenty-five?”
“That would be a good number, and we should be able to reach the town in five days if we take extra horses. Unless, Dalla, you know a way to get us there even faster.”
“I can’t open a dweomer road for more than one or two people, if that’s what you mean,” Dallandra said. “With Evandar gone, the roads get more and more unstable. They’re probably not safe for anyone who’s not dweomer themselves.”
“I see.” Cal considered for a moment more. “I’d ask the dragons to carry some of us there, but frankly, I think we’d best go with a show of force.”
“I agree,” Dallandra said. “What if the Horsekin send emissar ies, like they did before?”
“They’ll understand a message delivered by a troop of archers a lot better than fine words,” Cal said. “Even with dragons hovering around.”
“Quite right,” Dallandra said. “And they’d love to get their hairy paws on Prince Dar. He’ll need guards.”
“Which brings us back to the point,” Dar broke in. “We need to delay the main army. Can the dragons do that?”
“We can try,” Rori said.
Salamander got to his feet. Dallandra had never seen him so grim, with all his fool’s pretense tossed aside. “I need to go north with you. Valandario can receive any messages Dalla sends back. When it comes to harrying the Horsekin, I have the best weapon of all.”
Calonderiel snorted like an angry stallion and set his hands on his hips. “And what, pray tell, might that be?”
“Alshandra herself.” Salamander crossed his arms over his chest and stared straight at the banadar. “Or her image.”
“Oh, splendid idea!” Dallandra said.
Salamander smiled at her. Calonderiel, however, scowled and opened his mouth to speak.
“Cal, hold your tongue!” Dallandra got in first. “Ebañy knows what he’s about.”
“He does?” Cal hesitated then turned to Salamander. “My apologies.”
Salamander looked so shocked that everyone laughed, including the dragon.
“You can come with me, Brother,” Rori said. “Arzosah mentioned that you’ve ridden dragonback before.”
“It was not a pleasant experience, but I have, indeed,” Salamander said. “I suspect it will be easier with you instead of her, however.”
“It’s likely,” Rori said. “I’ll ask Arzosah to travel with the prince till they reach Cerr Cawnen. Then she can come north to join us.”
“We’ll be flying straight for the army, then.”
“Not quite. I want to go to our caves first and fetch Medea. It’s time she learned how to harry an enemy.” Rori rumbled briefly. “And that way you can meet your nephew.”
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