The Keeping Place

by Isobelle Carmody

  “We may not know him, but his name is that of our home, and people are bound to be sentimental about him because of that. Quite apart from the fact that some might say a grave is a sacred place.”

  “Knowledge is sacred,” Garth snapped.

  “Nothing else?”

  He glared at me. “Don’t you understand, Elspeth? There might be records in that grave! Records of the Reichler Clinic and of the Beforetime Misfits!”

  “In a grave?”

  “The map we found led us right to it. Why would a grave be put in such a place? Why would it be marked on a map?”

  “I don’t know, but the fact remains: You can’t open the grave unless everyone agrees to it. Or at least a majority.”

  “This is absurd!” Garth declared furiously.

  “Apart from all else, there is no time for it right now. Your people should be out helping Alad on the farms. I’m afraid when winter comes, people are going to be far more interested in food than records or knowledge.”

  The tension left his face. “I know you are right.”

  “You can continue your researches afterward,” I said gently.

  The days following my return passed in a blur. Gevan and the magi came back without the three from Sutrium but with word that they planned to take a public coach to Guanette in a few days.

  The guildmerge met to approve the final list of people to be sent to work with the rebels, and my request to go to Guanette was unanimously refused, as was Garth’s request to open Jacob Obernewtyn’s grave. But the Teknoguild was given permission to mount a limited expedition to the west coast, where they would set up a refuge in the Beforetime ruins, on the proviso that they were ready to leave almost immediately. This resulted in all the Teknoguild’s single-mindedness being mobilized. Jak was to lead the expedition, and with him would go three other teknoguilders; the knight-coercer Orys; the healer Kader, who was also a farseeker and an empath; and the futureteller Dell. Also traveling with them was the newcomer Seely. I learned that during my absence, she had become interested in the guild’s work and had begun spending more and more time in the caves. Of course, most of the teknoguilders had little Talent other than an affinity for machines, so she was less conscious of herself as being different among them.

  “What if soldierguards are still seeking her and Gavyn?” I had objected.

  “Orys can deal with anyone who recognizes her,” Jak said. “And she does offer the advantage of having a very good knowledge of most of the coastal cities, as well as having a real feel for Teknoguild work. I’d like to have her along.”

  Despite my own reservations, I let myself be convinced. I half expected to have to argue against her young charge going too, but Gavyn was more than content to remain at Obernewtyn, and in fact spent most of his time wandering in the wilds with Rasial and Kella’s owlet. He was not even present the day the expedition departed, but Seely was unperturbed.

  “He doesn’t really seem to understand properly how time works,” she said. “He never gets impatient, and he always knows if he is being told the truth. I told him last night that I would come back, and that was enough for him.”

  Kader and Orys had been drilled over and over by Aras and Zarak in a simple mindmerge. Alone, neither of them would have had enough farseeking strength to receive news in the ruins from Murmroth or Aborium, but together they could just manage it.

  The farseekers in both Aborium and Halfmoon Bay would have to ride some distance toward one another in order to pass messages on. This would slow the passage of information, but the alternative would mean having a farseeker camped at a halfway point between Aborium and Halfmoon Bay.

  The two Teknoguild wagons departed, and with them a third wagon carrying those Talents bound for Murmroth and Aborium.

  The next morning, two magi wagons departed, also bound for the west coast. They might have traveled with the others, but five wagons were likely to draw the less-than-friendly interest of the soldierguards. Besides, ordinary traders, such as the teknoguilders appeared to be, would never travel with gypsies.

  The magi wagons would travel as the performing troupe that had delighted Councilmen in Sawlney, but Merret would be its leader rather than Gevan. They planned to offer performances in Port Oran, Morganna, and Halfmoon Bay, gathering information and shedding Talents as they went. Merret would eventually join Serba’s rebel group in Port Oran, and each day she would farsend to Orys and Kader in the ruins at a pre-arranged time, drawing on the coercer-knight with her to increase her range. Zidon had offered to carry Merret, and she looked genuinely magnificent on him, clad in her scarlet and black mage cloak.

  “Be careful,” I told her. “Do not play the rebels’ game.”

  “I will not be used,” the coercer promised, her dark eyes glimmering with the suppressed excitement I had often felt as an expeditioner. Despite all the dangers and uncertainties facing the magi, in that moment I envied her the adventures and freedoms of the road.

  Several days later, I was with Miryum, listening to her outline her strategy for decoying the soldierguards from the Gelfort encampment. According to her, no more than ten would be needed, but I disagreed, saying that Malik had specifically requested a group.

  “Why not let more ride than are needed. They will be in no danger, and no one will know that they are simply padding,” I argued. “It will allow a lot of the older and younger folk here to feel they are contributing, and it won’t hurt for Malik to believe we need that many.”

  Straaka agreed in his soft, deep voice. “Always best if enemy is misjudging strength.”

  I did not disagree with his assumption that Malik was an enemy, for so I felt him to be, despite our agreement.

  Miryum regarded the Sadorian seriously before saying she would let me decide who else would ride. I wondered at the smooth, almost wordless communion between the coercer and her unwanted suitor. I saw no sign of tenderness between them, but she had clearly grown to respect the Sadorian. Indeed, all the coercer-knights regarded him highly. Though unTalented, Straaka was a canny fighter, and yet he did not boast of his abilities. In fact, he spoke of war as if it were an expression of a deep philosophy, its physical or aggressive elements being the least important part of the discipline. Miryum and her knights were fascinated by his attitude, and often at night in the kitchens, I would see them listening to his stories, as wide-eyed as children.

  “Someone farseeks, Elspeth,” one of the other knights interrupted.

  I opened my senses to hear from Ceirwan that Enoch had brought him up from Guanette. Delighted, I farsent that I would come directly. Before I had even turned to go, Miryum, Straaka, and the other knights were bent over their maps again.

  “I am more than glad to see you back safe,” I told Ceirwan. “Where are Kella and Freya?”

  “They’re havin’ something to eat in th’ kitchen. I thought ye might come an’ join us so that we could tell you what happened in Sutrium. Ye look as if ye could use a meal,” he added pointedly.

  I did not say that I had not eaten firstmeal or midmeal that day. Without Ceirwan to fuss at me, my eating habits were precarious, and I had lost weight I could ill afford. Worrying about Rushton did not help matters.

  Ceirwan’s eyes flicked at me suddenly, and the compassion in his expression told me that he had caught my thought. “We dinna find a whisper of him,” he said gently. “We probed th’ rebels left in Sutrium without their knowin’, an’ just like Brydda said, so far as anyone kens, Rushton rode out in fine health. We left messages an’ searched in all th’ places Kella could think of fer Domick, too, but he didna contact us. The three of us walked for hours together and separately trying to pick up something from either of their minds, but it would take a hundred farseekers to cover th’ whole of Sutrium properly. Especially down near th’ river wharves, where th’ tainting is as bad as I have ever felt it, an’ the streets are wound together like a tangle of wool.”

  “Maryon says Rushton is alive,” I said aloud, suddenly wanting to
say the words as if they were a talisman.

  Ceirwan’s eyes lit up. “Where is he bein’ held?”

  “She saw only that he is alive. Even if his mysterious kidnappers have spirited him to the moon, he is unhurt.”

  In the dining hall, the tables were empty except for Freya and Kella. I had to work hard not to show my dismay when I saw how haggard the healer looked.

  “Welcome home,” I said brightly.

  Kella’s lips twisted in a ghastly attempt at a smile. “I know what I look like, Elspeth. You needn’t pretend. I suppose Ceir told you we couldn’t find a trace of Domick. We tried and tried….”

  I turned to Ceirwan to give the healer time to compose herself. “I assume you know that we are taking part in the rebellion after all.”

  “What?” Ceirwan asked, but Kella and Freya nodded, saying Javo had told them.

  “What has been happenin’, then?” Ceirwan asked in some asperity.

  I told him in between mouthfuls of stew. I had not felt hungry, but now that food was before me, I was ravenous. I had finished my tale and my stew when I noticed that Kella had done little more than shift hers around the plate. I touched her arm, and she looked up at me blankly. “I know how you feel, but you must eat,” I said gently.

  “Oh, I know,” she said, looking into my eyes. “Believe me, I am not giving up. I was actually wondering if I could go back to Sutrium with the team you send there.”

  “You haven’t listened properly,” I said gently. “Rhianon, Zarak, and Noha have already gone to join Bodera’s group in Sutrium. It’s a wonder you missed them on the road.”

  “Noha?” Ceirwan echoed.

  “He’s a musician and an empath,” Freya reminded him.

  “But no healer,” Kella said. “I could join them.”

  “Let me think about it,” I said firmly, remembering her tainted aura and wishing I could have a second look at it. “Tomorrow, we will be sending teams to Saithwold, Sawlney, Kinraide, and Berrioc. But, Kella, you do realize that Domick could be anywhere in the Land. And every one of our people has instructions to look for him and Rushton both. You might be better here, ready to go to them when they are found. You won’t be able to just leave if you are stationed with the rebels.”

  Kella frowned. “Truespoken.”

  “Think it over,” I said.

  24

  “CAN YOU HEAR me?” I farsent.

  “Loud and clear,” Duria responded. Aras and I had ridden through the mountain pass in order to reach him in Guanette. I had a fleeting vision of the farseeker staring into a fire. Focusing on flames or water always helped steady a farseeking probe. I could sense people moving around him and talking, but they were mere shadows to my perceptions.

  “Rebels,” Duria explained with a dryness that told me more than words how it was among Malik’s people.

  “Where is Gevan?” I settled myself more comfortably on the blanket Aras had laid out.

  “With Malik.” There was a clear sensation of distaste. “Explaining that there are no traitors among his people. It’s not surprising, for they are far too afraid to betray him. Tonight he will let his people know the full plan, or as much of it as he deems they need to know.”

  “How is Lirra bearing up?”

  “Not too well. She said Malik stinks of ill will, but when I spoke of the decoy and reminded him that no soldierguards were to be harmed by his people, he agreed, and Lirra didn’t get any sense that he lied. She says he is wary of the other rebels turning against him, though. Every time a message comes, he emanates distrust. I’m not sure how long she can bear being here. The fear of Malik’s men for their leader is almost as hard for her to tolerate as his loathing of us.”

  “Have you managed to connect with Ceirwan yet?” I asked.

  “Yes. If you like, I can link with him now, and you can go through me to speak to him yourself.”

  “Let’s try,” I sent.

  The Farseeker guilden had been sent to establish a camp in the Brown Haw Rises, because the distance between Guanette and Sawlney could not be broached in a single farseeking leap, given that the Gelfort Range lay between them. Without Ceirwan to connect them, Duria and Wila would have had to ride toward one another to exchange information. It had been decided that, as well as speeding up the time it took for messages to reach us, a halfway camp would be a useful rallying point for Miryum’s decoy team.

  The camp was set up well back into the Rises to avoid being visible from the main road. So far, only Ceirwan, Freya, two other farseekers, and a healer were in the camp. On the morrow, Miryum and her remaining knights would join them.

  Duria bade me hold myself ready while he formed the necessary link with Ceirwan and made himself properly passive. When I sensed his readiness, I allowed myself to slide along the link he had established with the guilden.

  “Ceirwan?” I sent tentatively, for we had only ever tried this separated by short distances. Theoretically, it ought to work the same over a long distance, but quite often theory left off when practice began.

  “Elspeth!” Ceirwan sent in excitement; then he quickly damped down his elation, for he knew well that too much emotion would shatter the delicate connection. I could sense that it was no easy matter to communicate with me while retaining his link with Duria.

  “How is it there?” I sent simply.

  “It’s beautiful here,” Ceirwan sent, but the brief picture I received from his thoughts was of Freya. I smiled and asked if he had made contact with Wila.

  “Just a little while ago. She says the empath there is having the same sort of trouble with Brocade and his people that Lirra is having among Malik’s. The worst of it is that the rebels seem to know they’re hurting the boy, and it just spurs them on.”

  I was careful to remain cool, but it was a struggle. “Tell Wila…Better still, can you hold on to Duria and make the same sort of whiplash connection with her, so that I can talk to her directly?”

  Ceirwan sent regretfully, “Th’ others have gone to get water at a spring a ways back. I’d have to wait ’til they’re back, so I can use their energy.”

  “Perhaps I can help,” I said, and bade him try to make the connection. He did so doubtfully, but as he threw out his mental spar, I allowed some of my own energy to infuse the link. I felt Ceirwan’s mind connect and slipped my probe down his to Wila.

  “Greetings, Guildmistress,” Wila sent. Her mind was full of distortions and interference, and I exerted more of my own energy before instructing her to tell Brocade that the Misfit team assisting his people would be withdrawn if he did not prevent his men from tormenting the empath.

  “Thank you,” Wila sent. “Poor little Feay is beside himself, and Harwood is about to break his knightly vows to give these men a taste of their own medicine.”

  “If it does not stop immediately, the three of you will leave. Warn Brocade once, then do it. Any sign of traitors there?”

  “None so far as Harwood or I can find,” Wila sent.

  “Have you had a chance to scry out any of the priests?”

  “No,” she sent, sounding frustrated. “The cloister here is all but empty. Most of the Herders have gone off to some sort of religious ceremony in Sutrium. It is a pity, because this would have been the perfect opportunity to further investigate the Faction.”

  It seemed too much of a coincidence that the Faction should have a religious ceremony right when the rebels were on the verge of rising. More likely the Herders knew something of what was to come and were absenting themselves strategically. Quite likely they even knew who the rebel traitor was. On the other hand, why choose to congregate in Sutrium, which was likely to be the center of the strife? I asked Wila to find out what Zarak and the rest of the team in Sutrium knew of the Herder ceremony there.

  “Tomash farsent me from Kinraide,” Wila continued. “He scried out a traitor in Elii’s group—a woman who was thinking of betraying them for money. She was taken prisoner, though Tomash argued against it, saying it was no
crime to think about betrayal as long as you didn’t go through with it. But Elii said they couldn’t afford to take the risk.”

  I frowned. The traitors we were looking for were not merely contemplating betrayal. “Try to link with Khuria,” I sent. “I will feed you energy.”

  “I’ll try,” she responded. When it anchored, I slid along Wila’s probe to Khuria.

  “Greetings, Guildmistress,” came very faintly. The slight echoing effect told me the older beastspeaker was linked into a small traditional merge, drawing power from the young farseeker who had gone with him.

  “Any traitors found?” I sent quickly.

  “None here…” The voice faded. “…Zarak…”

  “I’m not getting you. Try again,” I sent.

  “Zarak contacted me…No traitors found there yet, but…”

  I realized Zarak’s father was at the end of his strength, even drawing on a merge. I sent thanks and drew back to Wila.

  “I’m sorry,” she sent, sounding exhausted. “It’s hard to hold a two-way distance link.”

  “You’ve done well,” I sent. Without warning, Duria’s link dissolved and my mindprobe was wrenched back into me with painful force.

  “Are you all right?” Aras asked anxiously.

  My head was pounding with the worst imaginable headache, and everything around me wavered alarmingly. “I…I’m all right,” I stammered, the words enough to set my teeth aching. I closed my eyes and erected a block to catch the pain I was feeling, knowing I could not possibly ride in such a state.

  Back at Obernewtyn, I went to the Healer hall to have Kella draw off the pain that had accumulated during the whiplash link. Too much was at stake for me to take the time to let myself recover naturally.

  “That was severe,” she commented when she was finished. “What happened?” I told her, thinking she looked better than she had on her return from the lowlands. I had argued against her being immediately swept into her guild’s preparation of full herbal kits for those healers traveling away, but Roland had assured me it was best for her to be active. It seemed he was right.