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TREY WATCHED ME CLOSELY, violet eyes narrowed, waiting to see what I was up to. He said nothing, made no protest. We’d worked together long enough that he knew I was on to something. And I was. Replaying scenes from the fight as I tried to work out how it had all gone so horribly wrong, something had clicked. Grevin and Orlis weren’t what they seemed. They knew each other, and knew each other well. You just don’t fight side-by-side with such coordination in an instant.
“Well?” I prompted.
There was a tussle behind me, then the thud of a body hitting the ground. I glanced quickly over my shoulder. Lesandra was on the ground, gasping for breath at Sid’s feet. Sid kicked a knife away from the kid’s nerveless hand and loomed over her, a gore-encrusted apparition that might make a grown man wet himself.
It did occur to me to wonder why Lesandra would come at me with a knife.
“Lower your blade,” said Orlis in a voice calmer than it had any right to be. “I will answer you.”
Trey gave me a short nod, and I took the threat of Alvehn steel away from the young man’s throat. Grevin stood silent, glaring, fingers twitching as if seeking the hilt of a sword. I was glad Trey had taken care of that. In spite of it all, I was not convinced the man was actually an enemy and besides, I liked Grevin, and killing him would not have improved my day.
“I will be true to my word, and reveal myself,” Orlis said. “I place my fate in your hands, and by the God and Goddess, may Grevin be right in his judgment of you.”
What happened next was seriously freaky. The kid took his face off. All the while he’d been wearing a mask so cleverly made that I’d never once suspected it was anything but flesh. The face revealed was strong, handsome, clean-shaven, and somehow familiar to me. Trey gasped aloud, a sound of surprise you almost never hear from an Alvehn.
He gave us all a good look at his true face, then replaced the mask. Patting his face, in a moment he was Orlis again. But now Orlis stood before me tall and proud, and in a quiet voice not meant to be overheard, said, “I am Parick Allayn Morvain, son of the late King Staven. I am the rightful King of Morva.”
“Well, I’ll be damned!” I said. Flicking a glance at Trey, who nodded confirmation, I said, “So, what’s your story?” I demanded of Grevin. “The real one, this time.”
“I told you the truth,” Grevin replied. “But not all of it. What I omitted — I serve the Royal Family as a shadow guard. I was planted in the library as watcher when the heir started classes there.”
“You fought together as if this wasn’t the first time,” I said. “That’s what gave it away.”
“There is a competition held each year,” Grevin said. “Swordsmanship, marksmanship, other fighting skills. Anyone can enter, even a librarian. I was instructed to become his sparring partner, and during the training we became teammates and good friends.”
“So the tale of frontier life and surveying...” Trey started to say.
“Oh, that’s quite true,” Grevin assured him. “It’s what brought me to the attention of the late King’s master of sword.”
The shadow guard of which he spoke, by the way, is something like an invisible secret service. I’d known it existed, but this was a first for me, meeting one of them.
“When were you activated?” I asked.
“Officially? Never.” The man looked glum. “I was on the library staff when the King died. The master of sword met with an unfortunate accident a few months later.”
“Accident?”
Grevin shrugged. “Oh, he was murdered. He must have realized something was going on, because he burned all the assignment records of my order, something I only know because of the sort of inquiries the Regent’s men were making shortly thereafter. My contacts within the order fell silent, all of us, I am sure, waiting to be hunted down. But — that never happened. The master had made sure no one knew who we were.”
Lesandra had apparently caught her breath and convinced Sid she had no concealed weapons, because she appeared then beside the Prince, putting a possessive arm around his waist and glaring at us like an angry cat. “When Veresa and I decided to flee,” said the Prince, using the young woman’s real name, “I went to Grevin for advice. He revealed his true purpose and hatched the plan that involved us joining the troupe.”
We were off on the edge of things, but sooner or later someone was bound to come and see what was going on. The chance that the Prince would be recognized worried me. “We shouldn’t stay here much longer,” I said, as I watched Parick make a small adjustment to his disguise. “Damn! You’ve got to promise to show me how that mask works!”
“Impressive, isn’t it? This stuff is meant for quick removal and replacement between acts.”
“Who else knows?” I asked with a nod toward the players’ wagon and coach.
“They all know I have an assumed identity,” Parick replied. “But they know only a little of the truth. That Veresa and I are on the run because our families, her father in particular, do not approve of our love.” He put his arm around the girl’s shoulders. “It has the virtue of being, in part, a true story.”
“Although it wasn’t exactly my father who was the problem,” Veresa said. Her eyes were still bright with anger, but I have to admit that the speed with which she’d recovered from being trounced by Sid was impressive. They made a rather handsome couple, Parick and Veresa, disguise notwithstanding.
“Good,” I said. “That simplifies things a little bit. And we’re going to keep that story going. Come on, best we get back.”
“Wait,” said Parick. “Grevin has told me you were seeking me. Why?”
“We will need you on the throne,” Trey replied, “if we are to restore peace to these lands.”
“The Regent stands in the way of that,” Parick said, shaking his head and frowning. “And potent as you would be as allies, we are altogether too few.”
“Too few?” I looked up to see gryphons still patrolling the sky above us. “Sure about that?”
Parick followed my gaze upward. “You think they know I’m here? But that would mean they are still loyal!”
“I have no doubt of their loyalties,” said Trey. “But to be fair, I believe they have been following Daffyd all along.”
“Gryphon friend,” said Grevin. “You’re called that in the old tales.”
“I know,” I said. “I was called that again by a gryphon, not long before we joined the caravan. They’ve been keeping an eye on me ever since Sid and I rescued a young gryphon.”
“I am most glad of it.” The Prince lowered his eyes.
“What became of the Gryphon Stone?” Trey asked rather abruptly. I realized then that he had been anxiously awaiting a chance to put that question to the Prince.
“I sent it to the Tylian Abbey,” Parick replied. “The Abbot has had it in his keeping for a couple of years, ever since Veresa and I fled Morvain.”
“We need it back,” Trey said.
“Of course,” Veresa agreed. “How would we control them without the Gryphon Stone?”
Trey shook his head. “It's a persistent misconception, held even by many gryphons, that they were in thrall to your House through the stone. Nothing could be further from the truth.”
“We should be helping,” Sid interrupted, with a nod back toward the caravan.
“We’ll talk more, later,” I said with a nod. “For now, we resume the roles we’ve all been playing.”
“Yes,” said Parick.
Parick, Veresa, and Grevin went to the players, while Trey, Sid, and I sought out Tensta and Korl. They weren’t hard to find, since everything being done involved some direction on their part. The strength I saw in them was inspiring, and heartbreaking. You could see it in their eyes, and hear the edge of grief in their voices. But they were the leaders of the caravan, and just then grief was a luxury they could not afford. There were wounded to be seen to, and dead to be buried, most of them from the Guild who had put themselves in harm’s way to protect passengers. To say nothing of a lot of very frightened people to care for. I’ve been in that position, and I know how much it hurts your soul. When I said I would do anything they needed of me, I meant it with all my heart.
Much of it was done in haste. We needed to make it to the hills and the next roundabout. In far less time than I might have predicted the caravan was rolling again, solar collectors angled to make best use of the afternoon sun. A few people had objected to the need to roll on, but Korl had no trouble overruling them.
“We’ll be more secure there,” he told the delegation of passengers who brought the objection. “Better able to defend ourselves than we are here, strung out in a line. And we need more water than we are carrying.”
“I certainly need it,” Sid remarked, picking at her encrusted garments as the delegation stumped off to do Korl’s bidding.
“You were impressive,” Korl said. “None could stand against you. I’d heard Islanders were formidable...”
“That had nothing to do with the ways of my people!” she snapped. Sid turned and stalked away, the set of her shoulders stiff with rage. Or shame. There was something about the way she spoke that brought to mind the latter.
Korl looked stricken and raised a hand as if to call her back. “Don’t worry about it,” I told him, putting my hand on his shoulder as his face turned red. “She’ll be okay. Eventually.”
I caught up and fell into step beside her, but said nothing. I had a pretty good idea what was wrong, and no words of mine would be of any use. Knowing she wasn’t alone might help, so I went where she went, back to the players’ carriage, where Willame had died saving her. As she stared at the damaged wood, shattered by the blow that had killed our friend, the caravan lurched as the fire-damaged carriage ahead of us was reconnected, front and rear. Saying nothing, Sid climbed to the roof of the carriage, where she sat in roughly the place she’d been when the attack had begun. I sat beside her and she looked at me for a moment, then reached for my hand. I held her hand, ignoring its filthy condition, as the caravan crossed the final miles to the hills. We did not speak.
Before we arrived, outriders came in fast and hard; they’d seen the smoke from the burning carriage and turned back. They were a grim and silent group, riding with shoulders slumped. They knew they’d ridden right over the raiders and been none the wiser. I didn’t envy them the self-recriminations they would suffer that evening, and no doubt for some time to come.
As the caravan pulled into the roundabout, Sid and I dropped to the ground. The door of the carriage swung open with a creak, and the matron of the troupe appeared, wringing her hands in concern when she saw Sid’s dreadful condition.
“Poor child! It must have been awful, and look at you now! I’ll fetch a bowl and towels...”
“Peace, Mistress Malley. I fear this is beyond bowls and towels. Although towels and a long robe would be helpful, where I’ll be going.” Her voice was rough from the shrieking she’d done, but her tone was closer to normal, and anything but unkind.
“And where might that be?” Mistress Malley asked.
Nodding toward the rounded boulder hills looming over the roundabout, Sid said, “Korl said there are pools up in the rocks. I mean to find one and bathe, and clean these,” and she plucked at the blood-soaked jerkin.
“You don’t mean to go there alone, surely?”
“She won’t be alone,” I said. Sid looked at me and gave me a weary nod. That was a relief, as I feared she would want no company.
“Well, then, you wait right here a bit. I won’t be long!”
Mistress Malley was true to her word, and bustled back out of the carriage in short order, followed by one of the younger players who hauled a bulging canvas sack.
“This should do you both,” Mistress Malley declared.
“Thank you,” I said. Trusting her judgment, I took the sack from her helper. The fresh scent of some sort of herbal soap rose from the bag.
It didn’t take us long to find a stream, lined with willows and reeds, to follow up into the looming clutter of boulders and gravelly shelves that stuck up from the grassland around us. Not far uphill the basic character of the stream changed. There was a short but noisy waterfall decorated with long trailers of watercress and plants with small, yellow flowers. Behind the fall we found a small, deep pool shaded by dark green willows. Birds darted from rocks and shrubs above us down to the water, then back, singing as they flew. Water flowed into the pool by way of another fall; it was merely the lowest of a chain of pools among the rocks. It was a beautiful place, one I had missed on previous missions to that world. Under other circumstances I’d have been able to relax there.
Moving stiffly, Sid began to undress. Soiled garments were dropped in shallow water and weighted with stones to keep them from drifting away.
“You’re hurt,” I said, a statement, not a question. She wasn’t trying to hide anything from me. The light finstel shirt she wore under her outer garments had been damaged.
“I have bruised ribs and strained muscles,” she muttered. “My cuts are trivial.”
In a few more moments she was completely naked, and I could see that she was telling the truth. Somehow, in her berserker rage, she had managed to avoid serious wounds. I had a few cuts and contusions of my own, but they were nothing to be concerned about. Still, the open wounds stung like the dickens in the water, worse when there was soap on them. It was a risk having both of us in the water, but I knew Korl already had people checking the hills. Sid had trouble with her left shoulder; nothing broken, but something was strained. I scrubbed her back and washed her hair without being asked, receiving no objections. There was little talk, just the words we needed to manage a mutual cleanup. We cleaned our clothes as best we could, then spread them on the rocks to dry in what was left of the sunlight; the sun was quite low in the west by then. When we were done, I wore a towel around my waist, and Sid wrapped herself in the robe, and we sat together in the warm late afternoon letting our hair dry.
About the time her hair was dry enough to braid we could hear people calling out to each other, though still a fair distance away. “It would be unseemly for me to be in public with my hair thus,” she said, coming up on her knees and reaching back. She winced and swore, pulling her left arm back down abruptly.
“I’ve got this,” I said. I took the brush Mistress Malley had included and worked at her thick, brown hair, full of golden streaks and highlights from exposure to the sun. When the tangles were out, I braided it as I had seen her wear it. Through it all, Sid just sat there with her eyes closed, looking exhausted and unhappy. I didn’t say much; you don’t babble inanities to someone when their head is in such a place. She’d just seen a friend killed in a horrible way, and then gone temporarily insane and quite likely violated her oath to her God and Goddess. She had a lot on her mind, and I knew from bitter experience that nothing I said would help her. Being here, being a physical presence helped, I knew. Remaining silent unless spoken to helped more.
When her hair was braided, Sid turned and smiled a little. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
“I bless the God and Goddess for this chance to travel with you, Daffyd Outworlder,” she said in a voice that was less than steady. “And it has been a blessing indeed.”
“For me, too,” I assured her. “And I hope we have a long journey ahead of us yet.” I gave her a wink.
The smile was a little wider, though her eyes remained sad. “’Tis to be hoped, yes,” she replied. “We must never assume, of course. One never knows...” She looked aside with a choked sob and shook her head. “Why him, Daffyd? Why that boy? What...?” But the question was too big for words. As she broke down and cried like a lost soul, I gathered her in my arms and just held on.
How many times have I done that? How many comrades in arms have I comforted over the death of a friend? A brother? Or a lover? How many tears have I shed myself over such a loss? I knew why she wept. It’s why I’d wanted to quit. And in that moment, as I held a friend and lover and felt her grief tearing her apart, I very much regretted being there, doing this yet again. Even as that regret touched me, I realized that I was where I was supposed to be, in that moment. Absolutely where I should have been.
I don’t know how long it took. I do know that, just for a moment, Trey was on the rocks looking down at us. Just for a moment, though, and he was gone. That’s probably why we had some time alone. It seemed for a while that Sid had fallen asleep in my arms, but just as I tried to make sure of this, she sat up and pulled away, staring at me with wide eyes.
“God and Goddess, Daffyd! What happened to me back there? What did I do?”
“I can only guess,” I replied. “I think you went into what’s called a ‘berserker rage.’ Willame being killed probably triggered it. The Alvehn sword almost certainly played a role. Those things will augment absolutely everything in you, during a fight.”
“I have disgraced myself,” she whispered, looking down, horrified by what she recalled of the battle. “I did not fight those men to save others or defend myself. Oh, Daffyd! I remember it! I remember the strength I drew from the sword, the power. I couldn’t control it and — I did not wish to!” Sid looked up, eyes wide and frightened, a look I would never have expected on that face. “I wanted to kill them and I enjoyed watching them die!”
As she spoke, memories of her battle with the Moj came back to me. Of the blow that took the head off one, of Moj swords shattering under the blows she landed on her enemies. What the hell had that sword done to her? I didn’t point out that Moj were not human. I was quite sure the distinction would be lost on her at that moment. The pitch of her voice rose to near hysteria and I reached out, catching her head between my hands. She grabbed my wrists, but it seemed more to have something to hang on to, not an effort to fend me off. I locked my eyes on her, forcing her to see me. “Listen to me, Sidraytha. Listen! It wasn’t your fault! You didn’t decide to go berserk, any more than you chose that sword.” And I nodded toward the sheathed longsword on the gravel beside her. Fear and shame were in her eyes, and a suddenly sharp pang of anxiety shot through me. “Surely your God and Goddess are wise enough to see that you were — influenced!”
“Perhaps,” she whispered after a moment, looking down but still holding on to my wrists with a fierce grip. “I must follow the ways of my people to find out. This night I must keep vigil. I will ask the judgment and the forgiveness of the Two.” She tugged my hands away from her head, but didn’t release them. She pressed her face against our clasped hands for a moment. “It is the custom of my people that a comrade share this vigil. I have no right to ask it of you, but...” The look on her face brought that anxiety back into my chest. “I have no one else.”
“Of course I’ll do it.” I leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I’d have done it anyway, unasked.”
“We must not be disturbed.”
“I’ll talk to Korl and Tensta,” I said. “They’ll see to it.”
Sid looked to the west. “The sun is setting. We must hurry.”
