by DAVID B. COE
"Jynna-" S'Doryn began in a soothing voice.
"No! You can't do this! You know what the Mettai did to us! You know that they hate us, that they want us dead!"
"We know what one Mettai did, Jynna," the a'laq said. "That's all."
"What about the Mettai who are with the army?" Jynna knew she wasn't being clear, but she assumed U'Selle would know what she meant.
"These Mettai aren't with the army. And they didn't make the plague. In fact, they killed the woman who did."
"That's what the Forelander says. How do you know it's true?" Through her tears, she saw the a'laq smile sadly.
"I don't," U'Selle said. "I wish I could tell you that I know beyond doubt these men can be trusted, but I'd be lying. At some point, Jynna, a leader must trust her instincts. Mine tell me that this Forelander is telling the truth, and that these two Mettai have done what they can to help us, regardless of what others of their kind might be doing."
Jynna didn't know what to say to the a'laq. U'Selle had always been honest with her, and had always spoken to her as if Jynna were an adult. Even S'Doryn didn't do that. She understood what the a'laq was telling her. She could even see the sense in it. If this spell could protect the people of Lowna from Licaldi's plague, U'Selle would have been mad not to pass it on. And yet, Jynna couldn't get past her hatred of the Mettai and her rage at what their magic had done to her family.
"I don't want the magic to touch me," she finally said, knowing as she did that it made little sense. She was too young to have come into her power, which was why she had survived the plague when it destroyed Tivston. This spell must have been intended for grown-ups, not for children. Still, she wanted them all to understand that she didn't approve of this.
For a moment she feared that U'Selle would laugh at her, that all of them would. But the a'laq regarded her solemnly.
"That seems fair," she said. "But I will pass the spell on to N'Tevva and S'Doryn. Is that all right?"
She looked back at N'Tevva, and then at S'Doryn. Like the a'laq, both of them appeared to be taking her seriously.
"Yes," Jynna said. "But I don't want to be here when you do it."
U'Selle nodded.
Jynna turned to leave the house, but before she could, S'Doryn said, "We still need to talk about what you did, Jynna. I don't care about the reason. Listening to other people's private conversations is wrong."
"All right," Jynna said, her voice low. She looked at the a'laq once more. "What about the other Mettai?" she asked. "You're willing to trust these two men, but what about the others?"
U'Selle straightened. "The other Mettai are enemies of all Fal'Borna people. Like the dark-eye army with which they've allied themselves, they'll be crushed. If I have the chance, I'll destroy them myself."
Jynna nodded once. "Good." And she walked out of the house.
Chapter 15
E'MENUA'S SEPT, CENTRAL PLAIN
It happened without much fanfare, just as Grinsa had hoped and expected it would. The morning after he walked in the n'qlae's dreams, he heard from Q'Daer that the a'laq had decided that the Mettai were to be spared for the time being. When Grinsa asked the young Weaver why E'Menua had chosen to keep the men alive, Q'Daer shrugged as if the decision were of little consequence, and said, "We're preparing for war. Right now nothing else matters. And I think he believes we can learn something of Mettai magic from them."
If the young Fal'Borna knew more than he was letting on, he did a good job of concealing it. After ending his conversation with Q'Daer, Grinsa hurried to the Mettai's z'kal. Besh and Sirj were inside, both of them looking grim.
"They're not letting us out of here," Besh said, as soon as Grinsa stepped into the shelter. "They say that we're prisoners and we're not to set foot outside."
"I'll see what I can do about that," Grinsa told him. "Believe it or not, you're better off than you might have been. E'Menua had every intention of executing you both. I've seen to it that he won't, but for now you are prisoners. There was nothing I could do about that. I'm sorry."
Besh shook his head, looking sad and old. "It's not your doing."
"They're going to want you to tell them about Mettai magic," Grinsa said.
Sirj looked up sharply. "What about it?"
"How it works. How to combat it."
"And if we refuse?" the younger man asked.
Grinsa shrugged. "I don't know what they'll do. I'm not telling you this because I think you should answer their questions. I just thought you should know that they'll be asking you about your magic."
Sirj nodded but said nothing more.
Grinsa didn't stay with the Mettai for long. The entire sept had begun preparations for the coming war, and though E'Menua and the other Weavers had made it clear to him that Weavers weren't to labor with other Fal'Borna, he felt that he should do something. Men and women were shaping spear shafts while children sharpened the heads for the weapons. Others were gathering food for the sept's warriors, and still others were collecting blankets for the warriors to carry with them on the journey. Surely there was work enough that all needed to contribute.
But Grinsa soon learned that it wasn't just the Weavers who felt he shouldn't stoop to menial work. Nearly all the Fal'Borna seemed uncomfortable with the idea of a Weaver helping them. Mostly he sat outside his z'kal playing with Bryntelle while Cresenne worked. Twice a day he carried his daughter to the tanning circle and let Cresenne nurse her before taking her back home. He occasionally went to check on Besh and Sirj, to see if they needed anything and to make certain they were being treated well. But his conversations with the Mettai remained strained.
That was where he was on the third day after his conversation with the n'qlae, when a young warrior found him and informed him that the a'laq wished to speak with him. Immediately, he took Bryntelle to the older Fal'Borna girls who usually cared for the young children of the sept. Then he made his way to E'Menua's z'kal.
He found the a'laq sitting outside the shelter with D'Pera, Q'Daer, and L'Norr. At least two dozen younger warriors, most of whom Grinsa didn't know, stood around their small circle, clearly listening to their conversation. He guessed that these men were a'jeis, leaders of small hunting parties who answered to the a'laq's Weavers. It seemed logical that in times of war the a'jeis would take on responsibilities similar to those of captains in an Eandi army.
"At last," E'Menua said, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
"Forgive me, A'Laq. I was-"
"I know where you were," E'Menua said coldly. He indicated a space next to Q'Daer at his right. "Sit down."
Grinsa sat. The other Weavers hardly spared him a glance, but the young warriors stared at him, some merely with curiosity, others with open hostility.
"I've spoken with other a'laqs on the plain," E'Menua began, casting a quick look Grinsa's way. "All are preparing to drive back the Eandi invaders. Our warriors are to meet those of the other septs east of S'Vralna. We have enough spears to arm every man and woman in the sept, and we have horses for every able warrior. Even now, U'Vara." He glanced at Grinsa again. "My daughter. She is directing the children of the sept as they pack sacks of dried rilda meat and raw silverroot. We have skins for water, and plenty of blankets."
"You've prepared well, A'Laq," Grinsa said, and he meant it. He'd seen Eandi lords in the Forelands task their quartermasters with readying an army for battle, only to have those preparations take days and days. Yes, E'Menua's army was small compared to those of Eibitharian dukedoms, but still, Grinsa thought, many Eandi nobles could learn a thing or two from the Fal'Borna about readying their people for war.
"You expected less of us?" E'Menua asked testily.
"I didn't know what to expect. I'm very impressed."
E'Menua frowned, as if disconcerted by the compliment. "Each of you will be leading a party of riders, aided by six or seven a'jeis. L'Norr and Q'Daer, you'll take those with fire magic. I intend to take the shapers." He turned to Grinsa. "You have experience with mists an
d winds?"
Grinsa smiled, remembering his and Cresenne's sea voyage to the Southlands, when he had used the power of winds to steer their ship through a violent storm. "Yes, A'Laq. I'll guard our men from the arrows of the Eandi bowmen."
It was E'Menua's turn to sound surprised. "You've done this before?" the a'laq asked.
"Yes. A war was fought in the Forelands just before we left. On more than one occasion I had to summon winds to defeat the arrows of Eandi attackers."
"Very well then," the a'laq said.
Several of the warriors appeared to regard Grinsa with even more enmity. He wondered if these were men with magic of mists and winds who would have to take orders from him.
"There will be many septs on the plain, and many a'laqs. You'll take orders from me, and no one else."
Grinsa stared at the ground, refusing to be the one to ask the obvious question. Eventually Q'Daer found the courage to ask it.
"And… and if you should fall, A'Laq?"
"Then you'll be in command," E'Menua told him. "And upon completing our victory, you'll become a'laq."
"Thank you, A'Laq," Q'Daer said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "How soon do we ride?" Grinsa asked.
"Tomorrow, at first light. We'll be pushing the horses hard. We want to reach the other septs in no more than three days."
Grinsa nodded.
"What can you tell us about Mettai magic, Forelander?" E'Menua asked. He wore a sly smile on his lips. It seemed to Grinsa that the a'laq thought he'd refuse to answer.
"I can't tell you much," he said. "Just a turn or two ago I didn't even know that Mettai still existed. All of you probably know far more than I do." He paused, eyeing the a'laq, who merely stared back at him, silent, waiting. "They use blood and earth," he went on eventually. "And they have to recite their spells, either out loud or to themselves. So they can't attack with their magic as quickly as we can. On the other hand, they can do things we can't."
"Like what?" one of the young warriors asked.
"Well, I saw Besh, the old Mettai man, conjure a living fox from blood and dirt. I've also seen him create a swarm of hornets. When was the last time you saw a Qirsi do anything like that?"
"You expect them to attack us with foxes?" E'Menua asked, laughing, and drawing chuckles from the others. "Do you think that a swarm of bees will be enough to defeat the combined might of a dozen Fal'Borna septs?"
"Of course not, A'Laq," Grinsa said evenly. "You asked me about Mettai magic and I'm telling you what I've seen. If they can conjure foxes and hornets, they can summon other creatures as well."
E'Menua's mirth faded slowly. "Yes," he finally said. "All right. What else?"
"What else do you want to know?"
"Can they combine their magic as we can?" L'Norr asked.
Grinsa shook his head. "I don't see how they could. But I may be wrong."
"They can't," E'Menua said, sounding sure of himself. "That's our greatest advantage. That's why, even with the Mettai on their side, the dark-eyes can't defeat us."
E'Menua stood and the other Weavers scrambled to do the same, even the n'qlae.
"I want every a'jei to prepare his riders," the a'laq said. "Tell them what I've told you here today. We ride at dawn. I'll expect all of you to be ready. That's all."
The warriors bowed to E'Menua and said, "Yes, A'Laq," in near unison. Then they moved off, leaving the Weavers still standing in a loose circle. E'Menua turned to Grinsa. "I want a word with you."
Grinsa nodded, having expected this as soon as the man told them that he had been speaking with other a'laqs.
"Leave us," E'Menua said to Q'Daer and L'Norr.
The two young Weavers glanced at Grinsa before walking off. By now, he was sure, they were used to the a'laq sending them away so that he and Grinsa could continue their running feud. E'Menua and D'Pera shared a quick look. A moment later she ducked into their z'kal. E'Menua began to walk, and Grinsa followed.
"I take it I've angered you again," Grinsa said.
"You walk in the dreams of my fellow a'laqs, offering gifts in my name that I never intended to give. You dare to walk in D'Pera's dreams in order to turn her against me. Why should I be angry?"
"I didn't try to turn the n'qlae against you. I asked her to intervene on behalf of Besh and Sirj. What you did to them the other day was wrong. I was determined that you wouldn't use the words you coerced out of Besh to justify killing them."
"That doesn't excuse it!" E'Menua said, his voice rising.
They were still in the sept, and several people stopped what they were doing and looked at the two men as they walked by.
"She is my wife," the a'laq went on, his voice dropping once more. "You had no right to approach her in that way. You had no right to come betw-" He stopped, pressing his lips in a thin line.
Grinsa knew better than to point out what E'Menua had so clearly recognized himself. He kept his gaze lowered and said, "You're right, A'Laq. I had no right trying to come between you. I did what I thought was necessary, but I was wrong to do it. I'm sorry."
For several moments neither of them said anything.
Finally, E'Menua said, "As for speaking to the other a'laqs.." He broke off and shook his head. "You were surprisingly clever."
Grinsa grinned. "Was I?"
"Yes," E'Menua said, looking at him. "They were all so grateful to me. At first I didn't know why, but then one of them said something and I began to piece it together." He faced forward again. "D'Pera told me why you did it. You may well be right. Whatever my doubts about the Mettai, their spell might save Fal'Borna lives. I should have passed it on to the other septs, or at least to their a'laqs so that they could decide for themselves what to do with the dark-eye magic."
"Thank you, A'Laq."
"How many a'laqs have you contacted?"
"Perhaps twenty," Grinsa said.
E'Menua looked at him again, his eyes wide. "Twenty?"
"I haven't been sleeping much," Grinsa said, smiling sheepishly.
The a'laq didn't appear amused. "You'd better sleep tonight," he said. "We'll be riding hard come morning, and I don't know how close the Eandi are. You'll be of no use to me if you're half asleep."
"Yes, A'Laq."
They walked in silence for several moments, until Grinsa began to wonder if E'Menua wanted him to go away.
But abruptly the a'laq asked, "What creatures?"
Grinsa blinked, not understanding the question. "I'm sorry?"
"You said before that if the Mettai could conjure foxes and hornets, they could conjure other creatures, too. What kind?"
"I don't know. Anything, I would think. I assume it would have to be something real, something that actually exists in our world. But I don't even know that for certain."
E'Menua halted, as did Grinsa.
"Are you saying that they could summon creatures from legend?"
"I'm saying that I don't know what they can do. You laughed when I mentioned the fox and hornets. I wanted you to understand that this power they possess is no trifle."
The a'laq rubbed a hand over his face, looking deeply troubled. "There are tales of monsters-creatures of myth, demons from Bian's realm. Our magic would be powerless against them."
Grinsa wasn't sure what to say. "It may be that they can't do this, A'Laq. I just don't know."
"I want to speak with them," E'Menua said, starting back toward Besh and Sirj's z'kal. "I want to speak with the Mettai immediately."
Grinsa hurried after him. He didn't expect that Besh and Sirj would have any interest in speaking with the a'laq, but he knew better than to argue. And he knew that he had to be there when the a'laq questioned the two men, if for no other reason than to protect them when they refused to answer.
F or the past few days, Besh had spent most of his time sleeping or fighting off the interminable boredom. In the best of times, Sirj was not one for idle conversation. Since discovering that they were prisoners of the Fal'Borna, the younger man had retreated into a sul
len, brooding silence. Besh could hardly blame him, but it did make for long, tedious days.
At first, just after the a'laq's betrayal, Besh had been too angry to sit still. He'd paced around the tiny shelter, seething, trying to think of some way to retaliate. Soon, though, he came to realize that there was no way. He and Sirj were powerless here. It wasn't that the Fal'Borna had taken his blade. As Lici had shown him all too clearly while she was still alive, a Mettai needed only a bit of malice and sharp fingernails in order to conjure. But it didn't matter whether he and Sirj could draw upon their own blood; whatever magic they might have been able to do was nothing next to the power of the Fal'Borna. They were being held by a foe they could not defeat, menaced constantly by magic that could overwhelm their own.
After three days, he had surrendered to despair. Even his faith in Grinsa and the Forelander's ability to protect him, which had led him to this sept in the first place, had now vanished. He knew that Grinsa wanted to help them, that he was trying still to win their freedom. But he no longer believed Grinsa could succeed.
So it was that he was asleep again when the flap covering the shelter's entrance suddenly was thrown back, flooding the small structure with light.
Besh sat up so quickly that his head began to spin. His heart was racing and he felt disoriented.
"Come out here!" a voice commanded. "I want a word with both of you."
"It's the a'laq," Sirj said quietly. "Do you think he means to kill us?"
"I'm here, too."
That voice Besh recognized. "Grinsa?" he called.
"It's all right," the Forelander said. "You're in no danger."
Besh and Sirj shared a look.
"All right," Besh called.
Sirj stood and pulled Besh to his feet. Then both men stepped out into the daylight.
It was just the two of them: Grinsa and the a'laq. The Forelander appeared calm, which Besh found reassuring. E'Menua, on the other hand, looked unnerved and agitated. Besh was pleased by this, too.
"I want to know more about your magic," E'Menua said. "I want to know what it can do."