Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [4]
“How long till we reach Lin Serr?” Enj said.
“On her back? No more than three days, more likely a pair.”
“There’s some food left, but not much. If we could wait a day, I could catch us more.”
“Truly, I’ve never seen a man as good as you at foraging in the wild country. But time’s short.”
Enj nodded, glancing away upriver, where once the magical lake and island of Haen Marn had sat upon the countryside like a bowl on a table. By its dweomer it had vanished, taking itself away from marauders and the dangers of war—how or where, they didn’t know. With it, though, had gone Enj’s kin and clan, his home and his entire life, leaving behind only a long stretch of empty grass, green in the bright sun.
“I was just thinking,” Enj said in a shaking voice, “that it may be that the isle will return, with the danger gone off south.”
“Think it likely?”
Enj shrugged. His eyes were brimming tears.
“Tell me somewhat,” Rhodry went on. “Have you ever marched to war?”
Enj shook his head no.
“I thought as much. Here, why don’t you let me take what food we have, and you stay here to hunt and wait. I’ve seen you in wild country, and I know that you can live here for years if you have to. If the war ends soon, I’ll come back. If Haen Marn returns, you come south and find me.”
“Will you think me a coward if I stay, Rori?”
“Never, my friend. Never that.”
Enj started to speak, then wept, covering his face with his hands. Rhodry got up and strolled down to the river to join Arzosah.
“The small creature’s sniveling again,” she remarked.
“He’s no warrior. Let him weep. If my soul weren’t dead, I’d weep, too.”
“Your soul is dead?” She swung her massive head round fast to look at him. Water drops gleamed among the scales on her chin.
“Just a way of speaking.”
“Never ever say such a horrid thing again! It curdles my blood, just hearing the words. Don’t you realize that such can happen to men, and that it’s the most unclean thing of all under the sky?” She shuddered with a swishing of wings. “Horrible!”
“Well, my apologies. I feel like my heart’s died, then, if that suits you better.”
“It does. A dead heart is sad, but not horrible. Rather common, actually. Males do kill their own hearts over losing the females they love.” She sighed in a long rustle of wings. “Was this Angmar the only woman you’ve ever loved?”
“Do you care?”
“I do. We females like knowing these things.”
“Well, then, no, she wasn’t the only one. I loved someone named Jill when I was very young, but she left me.”
“And that’s sad, too. Was it for another man?”
“It wasn’t, but for the dweomer.”
“Ah! Naught to be done about that! When it calls, you follow.”
“So she told me.”
“You sound bitter still.”
Rhodry shrugged and watched the river flow. He could see the rippling reflection of her massive head, watching him.
“I’ve lost a mate,” she said at last. “My heart didn’t die, me being female and all, but his loss wounds me still. For your Angmar’s sake as well as his, I’ll eat the first Horsekin we slay.”
It was, Rhodry supposed, an honor of sorts.
“Then I thank you. Ah, well, I shouldn’t be surprised that I’ve lost her—Angmar, I mean. It’s better she’s gone, for her sake.”
“Well, if the wretched Horsekin had found Haen Marn—”
“Just so. No doubt my one true love sent them. She’s the jealous sort, truly, which is why I’ve lost every woman I’ve ever loved. If I’d dared to go on spurning her, she would have sent Angmar to the Otherlands. She’s a great queen, you know, and she could have done it easily. I’ve been marked for her love from the beginning of my life, no doubt about that, and I’ve lost all her rivals.”
“And just what are you talking about?” The dragon swung her