by Dave Duncan
"Praise the food the Lord sends; may it give us strength to serve Him."
A chorus of amens became a fanfare of crunching.
D'ward made himself comfortable and nibbled on a pepperroot. “Well done, all of you! You've had a brutal day, and I appreciate how hard you've all worked. I think it will get easier now. Not many of those city folk will follow us over Lospass. Who has anything to report?"
Dosh remembered Eleal, but others spoke up first, complaining about problems sharing out food equitably, assigning toilet areas, dealing with troublesome delegations of priests.
Nothing to be done about any of those now, D'ward said cheerfully. Let tomorrow look after its own afflictions. Had everyone met Dommi Houseboy, a new friend? The youngster blushed in the firelight and beamed toothily.
More shield-bearers and friends came scrambling in over the walls. D'ward made more introductions, announced a couple of promotions. People brought money to Dosh and he began dumping it into his satchel. Even so, there would not be enough to feed everyone tomorrow unless the crowds thinned out considerably.
Then a loud, clear female voice cut through the mutter of conversation like lightning through a cloud: “D'ward?"
The Liberator looked up. He started violently, dropping his gourd.
Tielan Trader had arrived at last. He had brought the girl who claimed to be Eleal and the little old man who had been with her, who now carried her pack.
"D'ward? Slights live long in memory, but debts die young?"
"Eleal!" D'ward scrambled to his feet. “Eleal Singer! And Piol!"
She lurched forward a few steps to meet him. Kondior Drover moved to block her and she stopped.
Dosh had expected the stunned expressions on the rest of the faces, but why did the Liberator look so strange? There was something odd here. What did it take to bring such a pallor to D'ward? Everyone knew the prophecy about Eleal and the coming of the Liberator, but the Testament did not mention anyone called Piol. Was the old man the problem?
Eleal was a pretty enough young piece, certainly. Had he still been that sort of man, Dosh could have gone for that sort of woman. In fact ... It takes one to know one.... Just what grade of woman was she? Studying her in the uncertain flicker of the firelight, he decided that if he had still been that sort of boy, he would have been prepared to gamble that she was that sort of girl. No blushing virgin, certainly. Younger than he would have expected, for "Eleal shall be the first temptation." ... It was almost five years since the seven hundredth festival, when the Liberator had come into the world. She would have been only a child then.
"Eleal!” D'ward repeated. He shook his head as if breaking a trance. “I forgot how long it's been. The years have blessed you greatly."
"They haven't changed you.” She smiled and held out her hands in greeting. “Aren't we still friends?"
D'ward did not order Kondior to move out of the way. “You are very welcome. Sisters, brothers, this is Eleal Singer, the Eleal named in the Filoby Testament. Piol, it is good to see you also. What news of the others?"
"Time enough for prattle and idle gossip later,” Eleal said with a toss of her head. Her eyes were flitting around, appraising the group. “I doubt that your entourage would be interested in our bygones. Are you going to offer us hospitality or not?"
D'ward laughed. “You are still Eleal! And I am a boor. Come and join our feast by all means, both of you. Make room there for Eleal Singer and Piol Poet. Welcome to the Free.” His laughter had not rung true, though. Dosh was very intrigued. He had studied the Liberator long enough to sense a mystery here.
Then the girl walked to the place cleared for her and her lurching gait drew all eyes down to her feet. The sole of her right boot was built up. Hasfral and Imminol moved apart to make a place by the fire. Eleal sat and the old man eased himself down beside her, wriggling out of his pack straps.
D'ward picked up his gourd and held it out to Bid'lip Soldier, his neighbor. “Pass that to our guests. We live simply, Eleal, as you see."
Bid'lip tipped in what was left of his own meal and passed the gourd.
The sharp-eyed Eleal had noticed. So had the old man, and he began fussing with the tie on the pack.
"Pray do not let us deprive you,” she said haughtily. “As it happens, we have some provisions of our own remaining."
D'ward sat down without a word, and perhaps only Dosh noted his smile, for it was a brief and private smile. When his gourd returned, he shared out its contents with Bid'lip and began to eat again, without taking his eyes off Eleal.
"Excuse us if we talk business at mealtimes. Has anyone else anything to bring up?"
Bid'lip said, “I heard a rumor tonight, Liberator. I was told that Queen Elvanife remains in her palace."
"I'm not surprised.” Still D'ward studied the girl, as if every mouthful she took was a revelation. “She is not our concern. The One God will deal with her—probably through her courtiers, would be my guess."
"Tomorrow, master?” asked someone else.
"Tomorrow we keep going. We can't inflict this torture on Joobiskby any longer. I hope the weather holds for the pass."
Fornicating scorpions! Where was Dosh going to find provisions for several thousand people marching over Lospass? It was at least a two-day trek to Jurgvale, so he could not run ahead and buy there. He would have to accost the Joobiskbians on their barricades. They might demand totally unreasonable prices to compensate for the damage the crowds had done, but he could argue that the alternative was to have the Free stay where they were, starving. That ought to convince them.... The Liberator had spoken his name.
Without taking his eyes off Eleal, D'ward said, “I need you around. I want you to keep the purse, but we'll let someone else take over the commissariat. Any suggestions?"
Dosh tried not to show the warm rush those words had given him. To be needed, trusted, asked ... “Doggan knows livestock—"
"No. I need him around too."
"Hasfral, then?"
"Will you take on the provisioning, Hasfral?” D'ward asked, still staring at Eleal.
"I'll be glad to, master,” Hasfral said.
"Then I'll promote you to shield-bearer, if you won't mind carrying one."
"Anything to keep her from doing the cooking,” said Imminol. Those two were old friends, so it was all right to laugh.
A drop of rain struck Dosh's leg.
D'ward must have felt one too, for he glanced up at the sky, frowning. “Tomorrow we'll camp at Roaring Cave. At least we'll be dry there. It's a short trek. You can pass the word in the morning. Bid'lip, when we get near the tree line, see if you can get every able-bodied pilgrim to pick up a branch and take it along for firewood. Anything else?"
"Yes, Liberator,” said a Nagian voice. Doggan Herder hauled himself to his feet like an old man, yet once he was upright he stood straight enough, holding his spear and shield in proper warrior style. “I wish to go home."
So it had come at last. Dosh had been expecting it for two days, and D'ward showed no surprise. He glanced at Tielan, and the trader's face was a blank slate. Assume that Tielan had known and D'ward had expected....
"Go then, but nevermore count yourself my friend or brother."
Doggan had not expected that.
"I know what you're thinking,” the Liberator said quietly. “They were my brethren too, remember. I threw my first spear at Gopaenum, then watched Gopaenum throw it back at me. Had I known then how much beef the butcher packed in that arm of his, I'd have turned and run straight up Nag-wall. Burthash and Prat'han drew the lines on my ribs for me to cut when I earned my first merit marks. We were all brothers together. Side by side we marched and fought. When I came asking aid a couple of fortnights ago, they threw down whatever they were doing and came without question, as you and Tielan did, as brother should for brother. I told them there was danger and they scoffed. At Shuujooby they died, all of them except you two, but that was God's election, no shame on your heads. I underestimated
the evil, so if anyone is to blame ... No, hear me out. History will not judge me blameless. And now you feel it is your duty to bear the tidings back to Sonalby so the rest of our brothers can take up arms to spill the guilt blood. Against whom will you lead them, Brother Doggan? The lancers who did the slaying? But most of those men are out there now, shamed and penitent and doing whatever they can to aid our cause. Against Queen Elvanife, who gave the orders? I doubt very much that she will still sit her throne by the time you fetch the brothers to Niolvale. Against Zath, whose evil moved the queen? He is the true source of darkness, but what hope will you have against him? I have promised you that he will die when we come to Tharg. I need your help on the way, but if you will not trust my word—if you think that Sonalby has not suffered enough—then go. But do not expect my blessing."
Doggan stood in silence. His mental processes had never been speedy.
"He is right,” Tielan said. “I told you. Sit down."
Doggan sat down. He laid his spear and shield on the ground. Then he doubled over, weeping onto his knees. Tielan put an arm around him.
No one spoke for a while. Embarrassed and mourning, they finished eating. For dessert, Dosh decided, he would really appreciate a thick, juicy steak. He had not overlooked the rolls and meat that Eleal and her elderly friend had been devouring, and he wondered what else might remain in their pack. He was not the only one watching the two of them with hungry thoughts.
Eleal gulped down her last few bites and licked her fingers. “Well, D'ward?” She smiled nervously. “Can we retire somewhere more private and reminisce about the old days? I can enlighten you about the fates that have befallen so many we held dear."
"No!” D'ward said sharply. Then he gabbled something in that strange other language.
The mysterious Ursula Teacher had been watching and listening in silence. She, too, had kept her attention on Eleal Singer. Now she nodded and replied briefly in the same tongue. Whatever the words, her frown made them a warning.
D'ward rose and walked over to the girl. He stood between her and the fire. Eleal looked up at him warily, then began to rise.
"Sit down!"
Surprised, she sank back.
"Take off your boots,” he said.
"What? I certainly will not do any such—"
"Take off your boots!"
The order cracked like a cane on a tabletop. No one could resist an order from the Liberator when he used that tone. She paled and obeyed, and then looked up at him again with fury and defiance and shame.
It was cruel. Everyone could see the comparison—the deformed leg, horribly shorter than its companion.
D'ward glanced at Imminol and the old man on either side of her. “Hold her hands."
Eleal began to protest, but the others seized her hands. “D'ward! What are you—"
The Liberator raised his eyes as if studying the sky. He lifted his arms overhead in the circle. A flash of revelation told Dosh what was going to happen an instant before the girl cried put. She struggled against her captors.
D'ward lowered his hands. “Give thanks to the True God."
He turned and walked back to his former place, his robe swirling in the rising wind. Raindrops hissed in the fire. Imminol and Piol released their hold on Eleal. She had turned ashen pale, staring down at her feet.
"A blessed miracle!” Ursula said in accented Joalian. “Praise to the Undivided for this sign to us."
One or two voices muttered, “Amen!” Everyone else was too stunned to speak. The girl's legs were now the same length.
"It is written,” Ursula continued. “'Hurt and sickness, yea death itself, shall he take from us. Oh rejoice!’”
Then Eleal reacted. She screamed, “D'ward!” and scrambled to her feet. She started to move toward him and lurched, almost overbalancing.
"No!” D'ward snapped. “Come no closer!"
"But—You cured—” She looked down at her feet, as if unable to believe her senses.
It would feel very strange, Dosh thought. Even having a sprained ankle cured had felt strange, and she must have lived with her deformity all her life. It felt bizarre even to witness such a miracle. His scalp prickled, although he had seen the Liberator use his powers before. The effect on the others would be even stronger.
Ursula laughed, and the sound was as shocking as it would be in a temple. “That was foolish of you, Kisster. You should have done that where the world could see."
D'ward scowled at her. “I did not do it for that. It was recompense for an old offense. Tielan, can you take that extra sole off her boot? Eleal, I have repaid some of my debt to you. Go now."
Eleal's face glistened wet in the firelight, and that was not all rain on her cheeks. She trembled visibly. “D'ward, D'ward!” She took a tentative step.
"No closer! I am happy to see you again, and even happier that I could do what I just did, but you are not welcome here tonight. You must find a place outside. Piol ... What do you think, Piol? Am I being foolish?"
The old man was pale also. He shook his head.
D'ward pulled a face, as if that confirmation of whatever troubled him was highly distasteful. “Bid'lip, Doggan ... will you see that Eleal Singer and Piol Poet find a place to lie tonight?” He did not add, “Far away from me,” but the implication was obvious.
Tielan had pried the lift off Eleal's boot with the blade of his spear. He handed the boot to her in silence. The rain was starting to sting on Dosh's shoulders.
"The rest of us,” D'ward said, “will use the tent cloth as a blanket. It won't be very comfortable, but it will cover more of us that way, and we shall be a lot better off than most of the people out there. If you see any small children, invite them in. Farewell, Eleal and Piol. I wish you safe journey home."
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37
Showers came ever more frequently as the night passed, growing heavier, colder, and more persistent. The fires went out early, starved for lack of fuel or just drowned by the rain. Strangers huddled together, grumbling and muttering, sharing their misery. Few slept much.
Eleal slept hardly at all. She would no sooner start to nod than something would disturb her—if not a dream then rain on her face, a child wailing, or someone moving beside her—and instantly she was wide awake, thinking my leg is cured! She was no longer a cripple, a freak, a monster. Now she could plan a career as a singer or actor. She could dream of entering the Tion Festival. She could make plans for husband, family, children. She could imagine herself as beautiful, attractive to men, a complete person.
And it had been D'ward who had done this. Not Tion or any of the other gods. D'ward, who preached heresy. How could she reconcile this miracle with the terrible things he said? How could she tell evil from good anymore? Five years ago D'ward had betrayed her trust. Now he had granted her dearest wish without a word from her, asking no favor or service or pledge, repaying in one stroke everything she had ever done for him.
How? Who was D'ward? She had been thinking of him as man born of woman, and yet she had seen him come into the world, materializing out of empty air. If he was not mortal, then he must be divine or demon, and why should a demon grant such a blessing?
As the first faint hint of day began to seep through the sodden clouds, the multitude on the knoll stirred and crumbled. People rose shivering to their feet and headed for the road, jostling and disturbing any who remained asleep. From the angry mutters she had overheard around her in the night, Eleal knew that most would be heading straight back home to Niol. D'ward had dismissed her, refused to meet with her alone. She had saved his life once and yet he did not trust her! He had bade her leave.
Piol came awake with a paroxysm of wheezing and coughing. How could so few teeth chatter so loudly?
"You all right?” she asked.
"Apart from rheumatics and frostbite and double pneumonia, yes. How about you?"
"Mental confusion and moral uncertainty, mostly."
He turned to peer at he
r in the gloom and then chuckled. His bony hand found hers and squeezed. “A new life opens its doors?"
She hugged him. He was a bundle of faggots and cold as a fish. “I don't know, Piol, I don't know! Explain it to me."
He hacked again. “Wish I could. Where are we going now?"
After a long moment, Eleal whispered, “I want to follow the Liberator."
"I was afraid of that. Why, Eleal? What is driving you? You told me you wanted to go to Joal, but all you really seem to want—"
"D'ward cured my leg."
"That's no reason. Even before—"
"Yes, it is!” But was it? Her dream had changed. In the night it had really been D'ward in her arms, not that unknown admirer with the mustache—D'ward as he was now, with his trim beard. Woeful maiden, handsome lad...
Piol was waiting for more. What could she tell him? It was ridiculous to think of revenge now. However D'ward had harmed her in the past, he had made redress. But how could she ever be friends with a man who uttered such frightful blasphemies? Furthermore, he was leading his army to Jurgvale, and in Jurgvale was Tigurb'l Tavernkeeper. She had not told Piol about him, but he had guessed enough. There was absolutely no reason for her to join this crazy heretical pilgrimage.
There was no way she could not. “I never thanked D'ward properly."
"Yes, you did."
"Well, I'd like to talk with him. Talk about old times. He's an old friend, isn't he? I like him. He's nice. Let's eat something.” She reached for the pack they had been using as a pillow, and he caught her wrist.
"Not yet. Too many eyes and mouths here. Let's start walking. It'll warm us."
The crowd was already flowing down from the hillock, dividing into two streams. The larger by far was the stream heading for the Niol road, but a surprising number were making for Lospass. Eleal and Piol moved more slowly than most—he because he was old, she because she had to learn how to walk all over again. As soon as her mind wandered, she tripped or staggered as if she were drunk. It was funny, really, and once or twice she laughed aloud.