by DAVID B. COE
"Keep quiet and listen!" he said sharply.
She glared at him, but held her tongue.
"This talk of the pestilence in the north isn't groundless-there is something. It began not long after Lici left here, and as far as we can tell, the disease has only struck at Y'Qatt villages, all of them close to Sentaya, the village in which she was born."
She sat down slowly, staring at him still, an appalled look on her fine features. "You think she's doing this?"
"I think it's possible."
"But how?"
"Magic," Sirj said, emerging from the back room.
"What do you know about it?" Elica asked.
Her husband shook his head. Dark hair fell in his eyes and he brushed it away. "Not a lot. When I was a child my grandmother used to speak to us of dark conjurings. I think she did it to scare us, because she thought it was fun, for us as well as for her. She refused to actually do any of the magic she described, but she said she'd seen some of it done right here in Kirayde. At the time she refused to tell us who it was that did it. But later-when I was older-she told me it was Lici."
"What kind of conjurings?" Besh asked.
Sirj shrugged. "This comes from my grandmother, you understand. But she said that Lici had a dispute with a friend of hers and put a spell on the friend's dog. That night it was ill, and by the next morning it was dead."
"A dog?" Elica demanded. "You think killing a dog and killing off a village are the same thing?"
"Of course they're not," Besh said before Sirj could answer. "But they're not as far apart as you might think."
"You're serious about this," she said.
"Serious enough to have made a blood oath to the eldest." Her eyes narrowed. "What kind of blood oath?"
Besh held her gaze. "There's only one kind."
"What is it you swore to do?" She appeared to be trembling, though she sounded more angry than frightened. Then, that was her way, just as it had been her mother's.
"I swore that I'd find Lici, and keep her from doing any more harm." Elica closed her eyes. "Oh, Father."
"Do you even know where she is?" Sirj asked.
"We know where she's been. That's a start at least."
"Pyav will let you do this?" his daughter asked, eyeing him again, looking as if she'd half a mind to find the eldest and thrash him. "It was a blood oath, Elica," Besh said. "He had no choice." "Why would you do this, Father? What is it about that woman that moves you so?"
He probably could have explained it again. Certainly Elica had asked him this plenty of times, as had the eldest. But in truth, Besh was no longer certain. Did he do this for his family, for his friends, for the entire village? Did he do it for Sylpa, or perhaps for Lici herself-not the twisted old woman, but the sad, scared little girl he'd read about these past few days? Or was it more complicated than that?
Offering that oath had been foolish, impetuous. It had been the act of a far younger man. He'd told Pyav that this wasn't the sad attempt of an old man to make himself a hero, but now he wasn't so certain. A part of him hungered to see the world one last time, to wage a battle against something or someone more formidable than the grasses invading his garden.
Could it be that this had nothing to do with Sylpa or Lici or Elica? Probably it was a question that should have frightened him, made him question the oath he'd sworn, perhaps even the soundness of his mind. Instead, it made him want to laugh. He was tired of being wise old Besh, who sat in council with the other elders and tended to his goldroot. He wanted more from these last years of his life, even if it meant an early, violent end.
He couldn't tell his daughter all of this, of course. She'd never understand. She'd simply think him a fool, and in a way she'd be right.
So he gave her another answer, one that also was true. "I do this because if I don't, no one else will. And I believe it must be done."
"And you go alone?" Sirj asked.
"There's no one else to go," Besh told him. "Others have children to care for or trades that would keep them from leaving. Pyav offered to come with me, but this village needs its eldest."
"And you're not needed?" Elica said. "Is that it?"
Besh started to say something clever, but then stopped himself, seeing that there were tears on her cheeks. He crossed to where she sat and knelt before her, taking her hands in his. "I'm not needed as you are, or as Pyav is. This isn't to say that I'm not loved. I know better. But as it is
I haven't many years left. If something should happen to me, the rest of you will be fine."
She didn't rail at him, nor did she argue the point. She merely stared into his eyes, and, after several moments, nodded once. He could see how scared she was, but he sensed as well that she was trying to mask her fear, for his sake, as well as for her own. It was as much as she could do just then.
"All right," she said at last. "I suppose we have no choice but to do our best."
He lifted her hands to his lips and kissed them. "Thank you," he whispered.
She smiled, though there were still tears coursing down her cheeks.
Like her mother before her, she was wise and strong. He truly believed what he had told her a moment ago: she and her family would be fine.
"I'll go with you."
They both looked up at Sirj, whose expression hadn't changed at all.
It almost seemed that someone else had spoken.
"What did you say?" Besh asked.
"You heard me," the man said. "I'll go with you. Elica's right: You shouldn't do this alone."
"No," Besh said, standing. In the past few turns he'd come to accept that he had been wrong about Sirj, that the man had a better mind and a stouter heart than Besh had believed. But still, Besh had no desire to spend so much time in the man's company, nor did he want to put the father of his grandchildren in danger. At that moment, he couldn't have said for certain which was the stronger impulse.
"You need to stay here," he said. "With me gone, Elica and the children will need you more than ever."
Sirj kept still.
Besh turned to his daughter. "Tell him," he said. "Surely you don't want him wandering off like this, leaving the rest of you behind." "I don't want either of you to."
"But what of the children? You need him here."
"Yes, she does," Sirj said. "But you'll need me more."
Sirj crossed to Elica and took both her hands in his. Besh expected her to fight him on this, but once again she surprised him. They merely stood there for several moments, their eyes locked. It was something Besh and Ema would have done and after a moment Besh looked away, feeling that he was intruding on their privacy simply by watching.
"He's right," Elica said at last.
Looking at her, Besh saw that there were fresh tears on her face.
"I can manage," she went on. "You need him with you."
"This isn't what I want," Besh said. He looked from one of them to the other. "I'm going because I can-I don't want this burden falling on anyone else."
"If by this burden you mean Lici," Sirj said, "I think everyone in this village shares it already. You can no more claim it as your own than you can the rill or the marketplace."
"You need to take care of your family."
Sirj grinned. "You are my family. You may not like to admit it, but it's true."
Besh blinked, opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"You've silenced him," Elica said, smiling, though she was crying still. "I've been trying to do that since I was six years old."
Sirj's grin lingered, but he didn't answer. He just watched Besh, as if waiting for him to admit defeat.
"Father?"
He should have known what to say. Probably Sirj deserved an apology for the way Besh had treated him all these years. Certainly he should have thanked the man for making this sacrifice. But at that moment his pride wouldn't allow any of it.
"Fine then," he said at last, turning away from them both and starting toward the small room where he slept. "If you'
re going to insist on coining along, you'd better gather your things. That's what I intend to do."
"You'll need food," Elica said.
"Pyav is seeing to that. It'll be here before nightfall."
He didn't wait for them to say more. Once in his room, Besh pulled out his travel sack and began to fill it. A change of clothes, a woolen overshirt, a waterskin, an extra blade, and his fire flint. After a few moments he sat on his pallet, realizing that his hands were trembling.
"Damn," he muttered, not quite certain what it was that had put him in such a state.
"Father?"
He turned and saw Elica standing in the doorway, her brow creased with concern.
"You should be helping him pack his things." "He sent me to help you."
Besh looked away, twisting his mouth sourly.
She came and sat beside him on the bed. "He's a good man, you know; better than you've ever been willing to admit." She paused, and then, "Why is that?"
"I don't want to talk about this right now."
"Well, I don't know if I'm ever going to see you again," she said, suddenly angry again, "so you're damn well going to talk about it!"
He faced her once more.
"Tell me, Father! What did Sirj do to deserve your contempt? I have a right to know! He's in the next room preparing to follow you on this mad errand of yours! He's ready to get himself killed trying to keep you safe! So if you're going to steal my husband from me-if you're going to leave my children fatherless-I have a right to know why you've treated him like a cur all these years!"
"I don't know," he said softly.
She shook her head. "That's not an answer."
"It's the truth. I've been asking myself the same question, and I simply don't know. I decided long ago that I didn't like him. Maybe it was the same thing that made your grandfather hate me so."
Her eyes widened in surprise. "Grandfather hated you? Why?"
Besh shrugged and smiled. "I loved his daughter. I wasn't the strongest or the smartest or the best, and I had the audacity to love his daughter. And what was worse, she loved me."
Elica sat for some time, staring at the floor, her forehead creased. At last she lifted her gaze, meeting his. "Why are fathers such fools?"
Besh laughed. "I wish I knew." He looked away briefly, but quickly made himself face her again. "I was wrong about him. Sirj is a good man, and a fine father. And for what it's worth, I'll do my best to keep him safe. I may be an old man, but I've been wielding my blade for a long time, and I know something about magic."
She kissed his cheek. "That's worth a good deal, Father. To Sirj and to me." She stood and surveyed his small room. "Do you need any help getting ready?"
"No. I can do it on my own."
Elica nodded and left him.
For several moments after she was gone Besh didn't move. He felt too weary to stand, much less venture into Y'Qatt lands and do battle with a crazed Mettai witch. Despite all that he'd said to Elica he still didn't relish the notion of having Sirj with him as he searched for Lici. He and Sirj had nothing to say to each other; at least they hadn't for the past dozen years. Better to be alone than with a man he didn't understand. But somehow it seemed that choice had been taken from him, as if his being old gave others the right to make decisions on his behalf.
At least you'll have someone to carry all the food Pyav has promised you. Ema's voice. Besh grinned. Had she still been alive, she would have taken his hand to soften the remark. He could almost feel her fingers touching his. He tried to force himself into motion once more. He still had a few more things to pack, and he should have helped Elica prepare the evening meal this last time. But he couldn't bring himself to move. He just sat on the bed, staring at the scars on the back of his hand. At one point he heard voices he didn't recognize out in the kitchen and he expected that Elica would come and get him. But she didn't, and still he sat.
The light began to fade and the house filled with the aromas of roasted fowl and boiled greens.
"Grandfather?"
Besh looked up. Mihas stood in the doorway, peering at him with wide eyes, as if he feared what Besh might say to him.
The old man smiled. "Come here, boy."
Mihas walked to the bed and sat beside him. "Your mother told you?"
"My father."
"You have questions for me?"
He hesitated, but only briefly. "Are you going to fight her? Lici, I mean. Are you and Lici going to fight?"
"I don't know, Mihas. I hope it won't come to that, but she's hurting people right now, and we can't let her do that."
"What if she… what if she hurts you? Or Papa?"
Hurts. Kills. The word didn't really matter; Besh knew what the boy was asking.
"She's not going to kill your father," he said. "I promise you that. Your father is coming with me to make certain that I make it back to all of you safely. I'm not a young man anymore." He smiled; Mihas didn't.
"Anyway, I won't let anything happen to him. And when the time comes, I'll face Lici alone."
"But that's-" He broke off, shaking his head. "What about you?" Besh shrugged. "I can't make any promises about me. I'm in no hurry to die, and I certainly don't want Lici to be the one to send me to Bian's realm. But I don't know what's going to happen. My magic doesn't flow that strong."
"Then don't go," Mihas said, staring at the floor.
Besh bent lower and looked at the boy, forcing Mihas to meet his gaze. "Do you really mean that? Do you really think that I should stay here and let all those people die? Is that the kind of man you think I am? Is that the kind of man you want to be?"
"No," the boy said grudgingly.
"Of course it's not. And that leaves us with no choice. I have to go, and you have to help your mother care for your sister and brother." Besh made himself stand. "I imagine it's time for us to eat," he said, forcing a smile "It must be, because I'm pretty hungry."
"Do you remember what I told you about Nissa's father?" Mihas asked.
"Nissa's father?"
"He said that wherever Old Lici walks, four ravens circle above her.
And you said that he might be right."
Besh nodded, the conversation coming back to him. "Seems he was even more right than we knew."
"But the ravens-"
"The death omen. That doesn't mean me, Mihas, at least not necessarily. Lici has already done plenty to fulfill a thousand death omens. Maybe.." He faltered, unsure as to whether to put the thought into words. After a moment he decided the boy was old enough to hear him say it. "Maybe the next death will be her own." He held out a hand.
"Now come with me to supper."
The boy stood and took Besh's hand, and together they walked out into the common room, where the others were already eating. Elica and Sirj looked up as the two of them sat, but neither of them said anything, and the meal passed in almost complete silence.
After, as Elica bathed the little ones, Besh left the house and made his way to Lici's. The sky still glowed faintly in the west, but a few pale stars had emerged overhead and the lanes of the village were dark and quiet. A turn before, Besh would have needed a torch to find his way through Lici's house, but not anymore. It was almost as familiar to him as his own home.
He quickly found the pouch of coins in the back room, carried it to the window at the front of the house, and in the dim light that remained, counted out twenty sovereigns. He returned the sack of money to its place in the wooden box, though not before taking out Sylpa's daybook. He started to leave with it, thought better of it, and put it back in the box beneath the coins. He almost made it to the door, but then returned to the back room and pulled it out again. This time, he didn't change his mind, though once outside he hesitated again, and had to remind himself of all that Lici had wrought with her magic.
"I might need it," he said aloud, as if Sylpa were listening. "Who knows what else I might learn from what's in here?"
The breeze freshened briefly, rustling the leaves of
the trees above him.
"If Lici and I both survive, I'll give it back to her. I swear it."
He expected no response, of course, but it almost seemed that someone was watching him, listening to his oath and making note of it. Besh hurried home.
Sirj was waiting for him in front of their house, sitting on the tree stump and gazing up at the stars. A single candle burned in one of the windows, casting a faint yellow light, but Besh could barely see the man.
"Elica wanted me to tell you that someone came from the village with a sack of food earlier, while you were still in your room. We forgot to mention it while we were eating."
Besh nodded. "Thank you. That's good to know."
"I've put most of it in my travel sack, but I couldn't fit it all." "That's fine. I can carry my share."
Sirj nodded, and they both fell silent.
After several moments, the man nodded at the journal in Besh's hand. "What's that?"
Besh felt his face color and was glad to be standing in the shadows. "It's Sylpa's daybook," he said. "I thought it might be helpful as we search for Lici."
Sirj nodded.
"I took a bit of her money as well. The eldest suggested it." "I'm sure we'll be glad to have it."
Another silence. Besh wondered how he would endure the man day after day.
"You don't have to do this, you know," he said. "I was prepared to go alone. I still am."
"I'm not doing it because I have to."
"Then why?"
"I told you: You're my family. Besides, Elica won't rest a single night while you're gone. You think I want to stay here for that?"
Besh laughed in spite of himself.
Sirj stood and patted Besh's shoulder before starting toward the front door. "You'll see," he said. "It won't be so bad."
Besh said nothing, and long after Sirj had disappeared into the house, he remained where he was, grappling with the realization that he didn't want Sirj with him for one simple reason. He'd never be able to face his daughter or grandchildren if something happened to the man.
Chapter 17
MEAD HILLS WEST OF THE COMPANIONLAKES,
REAPING MOON WANING