by DAVID B. COE
Closing his eyes, he reached forth with his magic, seeking out the magic of the Weavers nearest to him. He sensed Q'Daer immediately, and then a second similar presence who must have been L'Norr. E'Menua and D'Pera were together, of course. He hesitated, deeply conscious of the risk he was taking. Then he stepped into the n'qlae's dreams, as a Weaver could.
Whenever he had used this magic to speak with Cresenne or his sister, Keziah, he had used the same setting: a stretch of the Caerissan Steppe near where he grew up in the kingdom of Eibithar in the Forelands. It was familiar to him, just as it had been to Kezi, and it was similar enough to the lands in Wethyrn, where Cresenne spent her youth, to be familiar to her as well. But it would have been utterly alien to the n'qlae, and that would make what was bound to be an unnerving encounter for her even more difficult. Instead, he summoned an image of the Central Plain here in the Southlands. It was an imperfect image; he didn't know this land well enough to get the setting just right. But it would serve his purpose.
As soon as he reached into the n'qlae's mind with his magic, he saw her in the dream landscape he had conjured. She stood before him wrapped in a blanket and nothing more. She turned a quick circle, looking to see who had entered her dreams. When she spotted him, her pale eyes blazed.
"How dare you!" she said. "Leave me at once!"
"I'm sorry, N'Qlae," he answered, keeping his voice low and even. "I can't do that. I need to speak with you, and I don't want the a'laq overhearing our conversation or seeing us together."
"And you think I won't tell him as soon as I wake up?"
"No, I don't."
"Then you're a fool."
"You don't want those men killed. And you don't want the magic you used to get Besh to tell the truth to be the reason he dies."
She looked away, her lips pressed so thin that they had whitened. "I don't know what your woman told you, but if you think that I'll defy my husband, that I'll let you disgrace him in front of the entire sept, you're wrong."
"That's exactly what Cresenne told me you'd say. She knows how much you love E'Menua, and I know that he's revered by every man and woman in the sept." He smiled. "Don't you see? That's why I've come to you this way. I don't want to embarrass him, and I don't want another open conflict with him."
She appeared to consider this. "What is it you do want?" she asked at last. "You know that he can't turn around and declare the Mettai our friends," she went on before Grinsa could respond. "Not after what the older one said."
"You mean what the a'laq made him say."
D'Pera stared back at him.
"You're right," he said after a brief silence. "I do know that he can't pretend none of this ever happened. For better or worse, the warriors guarding the Mettai heard Besh say those things. But you and I both know that Besh wouldn't have said any of it without E'Menua's interference."
Again she didn't answer.
"You'd let him get away with this, wouldn't you? You'd let these two men die, even though you know them to be innocent of any crime against your people. And you'd do this simply because E'Menua wants it. He's like a willful child whose parents would rather coddle than discipline."
"That's my a'laq you're talking about!" D'Pera said, her voice rising.
Grinsa let out a short, sharp laugh. "Yes, I know. Q'Daer has said the same thing to me a few times now. It seems I'm not as impressed by that as the rest of you."
"You're not Fal'Borna. You can't possibly understand what an a'laq means to his people."
"No, I don't suppose I can. But coming from the Forelands I know that it's possible for Eandi and Qirsi to live together, to build friendships." He faltered, but only briefly. "Aside from Cresenne, no one in the Southlands knows this about me, but I was once married to an Eandi woman."
She looked at him with a mix of disgust and horror. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I want you to understand why I'm fighting for these men. I actually understand what it means to be Fal'Borna better than you think. I've learned a lot in the past few turns. But your people seem to think that this is the only way to live, and it's not. Besh and Sirj have risked their lives time and again to protect the Y'Qatt and the Fal'Borna from the curse that the Mettai witch set upon you. Despite the color of their eyes and color of your hair, despite the Blood Wars, they gave up everything to save the lives of complete strangers who they've been taught to hate since they were children.
"The reason E'Menua was able to get away with what he did today is that their actions are so alien to the Fal'Borna, no one in the sept really believes they could have done it. But they did. I'm alive because they did. And unlike everyone else, you know it's true. You used mind-bending on Besh today. You read his thoughts. You know the truth. That makes you different from every other Fal'Borna here."
"Your point?" she asked warily.
"Isn't it clear? Knowing what you do, you have a responsibility to try to save them."
"I've already told you-"
"Yes, I know. E'Menua won't admit what he did. For now he doesn't have to. All I'm asking is that you prevail upon him to spare their lives. Tell him they'd be more valuable as prisoners, that they might be able to teach us something about Mettai magic. Think of something. But don't let these men die."
"What if he won't listen to me?"
"Make it clear to him that you didn't like what he did today." He held her gaze. "You didn't like it, did you?"
"That's not your concern."
Grinsa smiled. "You're right. It's not. I have a long night ahead of me, N'Qlae. So I'll leave you now. I do apologize for coming to you this way. It was presumptuous of me, but I couldn't think of any other way to approach you without the a'laq's knowledge."
"What do you mean, you have a long night ahead of you?" D'Pera asked. "You intend to speak with others this way?"
"I intend to do what E'Menua should have done long ago, when Q'Daer first told him that Besh had healed us. I'm going to contact other a'laqs on the plain and pass the spell to them. I'm going to save as many lives as I can."
She eyed him with curiosity, as if looking at him for the first time. "I'm not sure I understand everything you've said to me tonight. The Forelands sound… strange. But I'll do what you ask." She started to say more but then stopped herself. "Now leave me so I can sleep." She softened the words with a faint smile.
"Thank you, N'Qlae. Dream well."
He broke the magical connection linking his thoughts to hers and opened his eyes. He knew a moment of dizziness, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. All was quiet in the sept. He got up and peered into the z'kal and saw that Cresenne and Bryntelle were both sleeping.
Returning to his seat outside the shelter, he closed his eyes once more and again reached out with his magic. This time, he reached far beyond the sept, directing his thoughts northward, toward the Horn, where so many Fal'Borna lived and where so many merchants ventured this time of year, perhaps including those who still carried some of Lici's baskets.
Before the night was through, he intended to reach to the south as well, toward Thamia and other Fal'Borna settlements near the Ofirean Sea. From all that Jasha had told him before he died, it seemed that merchants often passed the colder turns on the warm shores of the inland sea. And in the nights to come, he'd attempt to speak with a'laqs in settlements near the Silverwater. He felt certain that Torgan would be headed that way with his small scrap of cursed basket, and though he thought it likely that the one-eyed merchant would try to avoid any septs he spotted, Grinsa couldn't ignore the danger.
Reaching across the plain with his magic, the first sept he found appeared to him as a small cluster of light amidst a vast darkness. Sifting through those lights he could sense the type of magic wielded by each person, and so could pick out Weavers from among the others. And when he found two Weavers sharing a z'kal, he knew that he had found the a'laq and n'qlae. Reaching into the mind of the man in this first sept, he summoned that image of the plain once more and stepped into th
e a'laq's dreams.
He was an older man, his back slightly stooped and his face deeply lined, but his pale yellow eyes were still bright and alert. They narrowed as he looked at Grinsa across the expanse of plain grass.
"Who are you?" he asked. "What clan are you from?"
"My name is Grinsa jal Arriet, A'Laq, and though I come from the Forelands, I'm living now among the Fal'Borna in the sept of E'Menua, son of E'Sedt."
"You're with E'Menua's sept?" the man asked, sounding doubtful.
"I am, A'Laq. You've heard of the plague making its way across the plain?"
"Yes, of course."
"I've had that plague and I've survived, thanks to two men named Besh and Sirj. These men are Mettai and they have been traveling through Fal'Borna lands, risking their lives so that they might stop this plague from spreading farther. They killed the Mettai witch who first conjured the plague, and they've found a way to make all Qirsi immune to it. By entering your dream and touching your magic, I've spread their spell to you. You're now immune to the plague, and you can make every man and woman in your sept immune by using your magic on them. Touch them with healing, enter their dreams, use your power to augment theirs. Whatever you choose, it will have the same effect."
The a'laq gaped at Grinsa as if the Forelander had told him he could now hold Morna's Ocean in the palm of his hand.
"You're certain of this?" he asked breathlessly. "You truly had the plague yourself?"
Grinsa smiled. "Yes, A'Laq. This is a gift to you from E'Menua. All he asks in return is that if you encounter the plague, you contact him immediately to let him know that the spell worked and saved your people."
"Yes! Yes, of course!"
"Thank you, A'Laq. I have to leave you now. I have many more a'laqs to contact."
"I'm sure you do. Thank you, Grinsa of the Forelands. May Qirsar smile upon E'Menua and his sept."
"I'll convey your kind words to the a'laq."
He stepped out of the man's dreams and immediately began searching for the next sept farther to the north. Before long he found it, and reached down with his magic for the a'laq.
Chapter 13
UPPER CENTRAL PLAIN
Two days after their attack on the first sept, the Eandi army encountered their second Fal'Borna settlement. This one was larger than the first and it didn't appear to have been damaged by the plague. It also was situated in a part of the plain that had fewer rises and dales. The army had no hope of taking these Fal'Borna by surprise. In fact, Tirnya and her father were quite certain that the Qirsi spotted their army only a short time after their forward scouts caught sight of the sept.
"Now our planning will be tested," Jenoe muttered, eyeing the terrain around the settlement, seeming to search for any advantage the land might offer them.
To Tirnya's untrained eye, the landscape appeared to offer little.
"We should do this without the Mettai, Marshal," Gries said, looking regal on his white stallion.
Jenoe shook his head, still surveying the plain. "I'm not convinced that we can, Captain Ballidyne. These Fal'Borna are at full strength, and they know we're here. Fighting the white-hairs on such terms is what led to our loss of these lands in the first place."
"Wolves, then?" Tirnya asked.
Her father glanced at her. Then he turned to one of the scouts who had first brought word of the settlement. "Bring the eldest. Quickly."
The man bowed in his saddle, and then rode back toward the Mettai.
"We'll have to ride closer," Gries said. "That's what the eldest will say. Last time, the white-hairs went for our mounts and raised a mist. If this is a full sept, they may well have several Weavers. They could attack us with shaping and fire as well as the rest."
"What would you suggest then, Captain?" asked Marshal Crish.
"If they've seen us, there's nothing we can do," Enly said, before Gries could answer. "This has been the risk all along, hasn't it? We based our strategy on the assumption that the Fal'Borna have been weakened by the plague. The first settlement had been. But it seems that the plague spared some septs and now we have to fight our way through." He hesitated, his eyes flicking toward Tirnya. "Or we have to turn back right now."
Tirnya hoped that others-her father? Gries? Hendrid?-would rush to gainsay him, but no one said a word.
"We're not leaving," she finally said.
Enly nodded once, as if he'd expected her to say as much. "Then I'd suggest we prepare for battle. And I'd also suggest that we give free rein to the Mettai."
Gries frowned. "Free rein? You can't be serious."
"I am. I don't know about you, Captain, but I'd like to survive this war. We're facing a Fal'Borna army; a true one this time. None of us has ever done that before. This is no time to get squeamish about resorting to magic of any sort. Given the choice between a couple of Fal'Borna Weavers and those wolves we saw the other day, I'll take the wolves in a heartbeat."
"That may not be the only choice," Jenoe said in a tone seemingly intended to end their discussion. "Here comes the eldest."
They all turned. Fayonne and her son were striding purposefully in their direction, following the mounted scout. The rest of the Mettai were behind them.
"I brought all of my people, Marshal," the eldest said, stopping in front of Jenoe. "I hope you don't mind. I assumed that you'd have me send for them soon enough."
A faint smile flickered on Jenoe's face. "Thank you, Eldest. I appreciate your foresight."
She inclined her head, then looked past him toward the sept. "We've found another settlement, I see."
"Yes. There's no evidence that the plague has struck this one. We'll be facing a full Fal'Borna sept this time."
Her eyebrows went up, but otherwise she offered no response.
Jenoe glanced at Tirnya, uncertainty in his deep blue eyes. "We're wondering what kind of magic you think might work against such a force," he continued after a moment.
Fayonne turned to her son. "The sleeping spell worked well last time, as did the finding spell."
"Yes," Mander said. "Either of those."
"But don't we have to be close to the sept for you to use that kind of magic?" Gries asked.
"Yes, Captain," Fayonne said. "We'll have to be far closer to the sept for just about any of our spells to work. That's the nature of Mettai magic."
"Can you do anything to help with their horses?" Tirnya asked.
Fayonne looked puzzled. "Their horses?"
"Well, last time the Fal'Borna used language of beasts against our mounts and we had to advance on foot. I assume that these Fal'Borna will do the same. But they'll be on horses, which gives them an advantage if it comes to close fighting."
"The blood wolves," the eldest said plainly. "They can attack their horses. Their mere presence will unnerve the animals." She shrugged. "But you've made it clear that you don't want us to conjure any more of them."
Tirnya took a breath, holding the woman's gaze. "Well, I may have to accept that we have no choice in the matter."
The woman shrugged again, her bearing maddeningly calm.
"Pardon me, Eldest," Enly said. "You said a moment ago that we had to be closer for just about any of your magic to work. Are there spells you can use from this distance?"
"There may be one or two," Fayonne said. "But if you didn't like the blood wolves, you might not like these conjurings, either."
"Why not?" Jenoe asked. "What are they?"
"Early in the Blood Wars, when we first fought alongside your people, we had many sorts of creatures that served our armies. The wolves were one. There were also blood eagles, great birds of prey that could attack an enemy from the sky. They could he sent forth from farther away. Of course, the Qirsi could fight them off with shaping magic, but the eagles were said to be deft fliers. Some of them might be able to avoid the conjurings of the Fal'Borna."
Gries wore a troubled expression. "I take it you can't control them any more than you could the wolves."
"That
's right. But like the wolves, they can be slain with arrows or put to sleep with a spell."
"But until they are, they'll be killing indiscriminately. They won't distinguish between us and the Fal'Borna."
Fayonne regarded the Fairlea captain coldly. "No, they won't. On the other hand, I can assure you that the Qirsi will be quite precise with their killing. Have you heard tales of the Blood Wars, Captain?"
"Yes," Gries said thickly.
"Then you have some idea of what Qirsi shaping magic can do to an army when directed by a Weaver."
"What other creatures did your people use in those early battles?" Jenoe asked, drawing the woman's gaze once more.
"Serpents, bears, hornets."
The marshal's eyebrows went up. "Hornets?"
"As long as a knife blade and with enough venom to bring an Aelean soldier to his knees."
Tirnya felt herself blanch. Suddenly the blood wolves didn't seem so terrible.
"And you can conjure all of these creatures today?" Enly asked.
Fayonne shook her head. "Not all of them, no. I can conjure hornets, but not the kind that my ancestors used against the white-hairs. But the wolves and eagles I can summon are much the same as those used in the Blood Wars."
Jenoe was gazing at the sept again. Tirnya looked that way as well, but saw no evidence that the Fal'Borna were headed toward them. Was it possible that they hadn't spotted the army yet? Or had the white-hairs decided that they wanted to defend their settlement rather than face the Eandi on the open plain?
"Send the eagles," Jenoe said after a brief pause. "You can direct them toward the sept, can't you? They won't turn on us immediately."
"We'll move a bit closer to the settlement," Fayonne told him. "And we'll do everything in our power to send them to the Fal'Borna."
Tirnya's father didn't look satisfied with this reply, but he nodded, perhaps sensing that this was the most assurance he was likely to get.
One thing about the Mettai: Once they were given an order, they didn't waste time in carrying it out. No sooner had the eldest answered Jenoe's concerns than she led her people away from the army and toward the sept.