“You knew we would end up helping the rebels,” I murmured, speaking aloud without intending it.
Her dark eyes met mine. “There were indications. An’ this mornin’ I was certain.”
“So the rebellion is definitely the trouble you foresaw?” Zarak asked.
“That I cannot say. But I believe Elspeth’s decision to involve us in the rebellion has changed the future. I still see bloodshed, but far less, an’ much of it is far from here.”
“So we did the right thing?” I said, feeling almost giddy with relief.
“I dinna ken if ye acted wisely or no. I still see treachery close at hand.”
We all stared at the futureteller, but she sat silent.
“Can’t you tell us if we are victims of betrayal, or only witness to it?” I asked, trying to control my irritation.
“I have said what I have said,” she offered so evasively that I had the sudden certainty that she was not saying all she saw. Instead of being angered, I felt chilled, and for this reason I could not bring myself to ask about Rushton.
But Maryon said, “I have seen naught of Rushton other than that he lives.”
“You’ve seen that he lives?” I demanded.
She nodded.
I told Maryon that I did not think her people should take an active part in the rebellion. To my surprise, she disagreed. “One of us will gan to th’ west coast. It shall be Dell.”
“Why Dell?” Alad demanded. “Why the west coast?”
Maryon gave him the blank stare that meant she had no intention of answering, and he swore under his breath and turned to add wood to the fire, though by now morning sunlight warmed the small room. A surge of claustrophobia drove me to stand by the open window. The others were talking together as Roland entered and crossed the room to join me.
“I’m sorry for the stench,” he said perfunctorily as I gagged at the smell rising from his hands. “It is treatment for Javo, and effective if pungent. It will wear off in a few days. What is happening?”
Trying not to breathe through my nose, I told him.
“A healer should go with each group as well,” he said.
“Only if they have a second ability. The rebels will have their own herb lorists, after all.”
“You think that will be enough if there is a war?” Roland demanded. “I hope you do not believe that the desire for a bloodless rebellion will mean it is assured.”
There was no answer to that. “Make a list of those you recommend and note any second or tertiary abilities the healers have,” I said.
He nodded. “We must also find some way to ensure a swift flow of information between Obernewtyn and the rebel groups,” Roland said.
“We can use the whiplash variation,” Zarak offered eagerly. “If some of our whiplash people go with the rebels, they can relay messages from one group to the other, and if you wish, Guildmistress, you could use us as a conduit and farseek the groups directly … at least up to the Suggredoon.”
“Elspeth means to be among those who go to Malik’s rebel group,” Alad said loudly, ignoring the look of annoyance I sent him.
“Well, that’s something guildmerge might vote differently upon,” Roland declared. “Rushton ensured that even the Master of Obernewtyn can be outvoted by a full guildmerge, and I for one won’t agree to your putting yourself into Malik’s hands.”
I glared at the healer, but he shrugged and said if there was nothing further, he had work to do. As he left, Jak entered, red-faced and wild-eyed. “Garth sent me to see what was happening.”
“Where is he?” I countered.
The guilden gestured vaguely behind him. “We found a map of Obernewtyn that indicated there was a path between the maze and the outer walls. The guildmaster assigned some of the younger teknoguilders to clear it out as a punishment for some mischief they had got up to. He is with them now.”
I glanced furtively at Maryon, and she smiled slightly.
“I don’t see why that requires Garth’s attention,” Alad said. “And if he wants to punish his people with physical labor, then they ought to be sent to the farms to help with the planting. Clearing some obscure path is a waste of—”
“But you don’t understand,” Jak interrupted. “They found a grave.”
My heart thudded with excitement. “Hannah Seraphim’s grave?”
Jak shook his head. “It took us ages to clear enough moss away to read it. It’s Jacob Obernewtyn’s grave. We are going to open it up, for there may be records or—”
“What if there are?” Miryum asked sharply. “There is no time for this now.”
“But …” Jak looked bewildered.
“She is right, I’m afraid,” I said. “It is fascinating that you have found his grave, but right now we have some serious matters to discuss. I want you to go and inform Garth that I must speak with him immediately.”
Jak nodded and backed out.
“They can’t help the way they are, Guildmistress,” Aras said earnestly. “They want to know things more than they want to breathe or eat. It is a hunger in them.”
“I dinna think Garth should open this grave,” Maryon said. “It is nowt a box but th’ restin’ place of a man.”
“I agree with Maryon,” Miky said. “It’s disgusting to think of opening a grave just because he thinks there might be something inside it. If there is, it is not meant to be looked at by anyone.”
Divided by my own need to know more about Hannah Seraphim for my quest and the feeling that Miky and Maryon were right in their belief that a grave ought not to be disturbed, I said, “It certainly shouldn’t be done without guildmerge agreement, and I’ll tell Garth so when he gets here. In the meantime, you have lists to compile.”
Everyone but Zarak and Aras departed. I sank into my fireside chair and bade the hovering wards sit and tell me what had been happening in our guild during my absence.
An hour later, Garth appeared, disheveled and dirty. “I would have bathed, but Jak said you needed me to come immediately,” the Teknoguildmaster said reproachfully.
I sighed, fatigued as ever by Garth’s single-mindedness. “I am sure by now that you know why I wanted to see you?”
“I did happen to go by the kitchens for a morsel of food before coming here,” he said blithely. “I must say I think it a bad thing that we are to be mixed up in this rebellion. I thought Rushton had refused Brydda.”
Rushton’s name acted like a knife stab, but I repressed my reaction. “I am mistress in his absence, and there were reasons for the change that you would have heard if you were not so busy burrowing into the past,” I said severely.
He lifted his brows. “Oh, I do not dispute your right, Elspeth. What’s done is done. I am assuming you will not want teknoguilders to be assigned to the rebel groups?”
“There would be no point—”
“I agree,” Garth interrupted. “However, I would propose that a group of teknoguilders travel to the ruins where you found Dragon and the Beforetime library.”
I gaped. “You … you can’t be serious! You would propose an expedition when—”
“Not just an expedition. I would have them set up a refuge for our people. You must admit it would be useful to have a haven on the west coast where our people can gather. A healer can be part of the team, and one of your guild can keep contact with the others spread out on the coast. They will be a long way from home, after all, with no easy way of contacting us this side of the Suggredoon.”
I bit back a sharp comment about Teknoguild opportunism, because he was right. It would be useful and perhaps even necessary to establish such a refuge. Much as I hated to admit it, there was no reason why the teknoguilders shouldn’t continue to investigate the ruins at the same time.
“Present the idea to guildmerge tomorrow,” I said at last.
“A proposal is being put together even now,” Garth said tranquilly.
My ire faded, and I gave him a weary smile. “You are incorrigible. Now tell me about
this grave. I hope you realize you will have some opposition if Jak was serious about your opening it up.”
Garth’s grin dissolved. “Jak shouldn’t have mentioned it.…”
“Until it had been done, you mean?” I finished his sentence for him.
He flushed. “Sentiment has no place in the gathering of information.…”
“Unfortunately, it does,” I said. “You will not open that grave unless a vote allows it.”
“This is intolerable!” Garth stalked back and forth in agitation. “It’s not as if anyone knows the man! He’s been dead for hundreds of years!”
“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 prearranged 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.”
The Rebellion Page 69