Viperhand - Douglas Niles [69]
"Darien, the Bishou-either of them could have learned about the trap through sorcery of one kind or another," Hal explained.
"My father," Erix said finally. "I must go see that he is out of danger."
"I'll go with you, if you'll let me," offered Hal." Now that it's dark, we can move safely."
"'tfau have to come with me," she said calmly. "Your wound must be tended, and you will need rest before you can travel anywhere."
Poshtli stood up, then looked away from the pair for a moment. When he turned back to them his face was set, though lined with regret.
"There is certain, now, to be war," he said. "And my duty to my nation becomes clear. I must return to Nexal and offer my services to my uncle."
Halloran nodded, understanding. "Take Storm. You'll need to travel fast to reach the city before Cordell. He's certain to march soon."
"But…" Poshtli hesitated, looking questioningly from Erix to Halloran.
||J "Hal needs to rest. His wound runs deep," said Erix. "He will stay in my father's house. He will be easy to hide if you take the horse."
"Very well. I shall leave you together/' said Poshtli, "and hope that you may avoid the coming ravages. May… Qotal watch over you."
"Good-bye, my friend," said Halloran, ignoring his pain to rise and embrace the warrior. Erix, too, held the Nexalan tightly, but at last broke away to look at him through misty eyes.
"Take good care," she whispered, "that we may see you again."
Poshtli bowed, smiling slightly. Then he turned and mounted the mare. Storm pranced for a moment before wheeling to gallop into the night.
"The house is not far… up there," Erix explained, pointing.
Hal nodded, grimacing against the sudden spasm of pain in his chest. She led him onto the lower slope of the great ridge that sheltered Palul. The woman pushed through thickets, slowly working her way higher.
"We're staying off the trail," she explained when they stopped to rest after several minutes. "Can you make it?"
"I'll be alt right." Hal managed a weak smile, and she took his hand. The feel of her skin against his gave him strength to rise and start upward again.
"Up here-we're close now," urged Erix, holding back thorny branches as Hal scrambled after her. The inky cloak of night completely surrounded them.
Finally she stopped at a small level shelf in the side of the ridge. "This is my father's house."
Gasping for air after the climb, Halloran raised his eyes to stare at the little structure. "Your home," he said, with unusual gentleness. She looked at him in the darkness, and he wondered if she understood his feelings.
He wanted to take her and hold her close, never to let her out of his sight again. Below, in the village, men of his race and culture made camp. Yet they had become as foreign to him as the scarred priests who practiced their nightly butchery in Nexal. This woman before him had become the only anchor in his life, his only source of purpose and meaning. He wanted to tell her all of this, but the look of pain in her eyes compelled him to silence.
"My daughter! You live!" The voice from the darkened doorway was full of strength and joy. An old man stepped into the yard, and Halloran saw him in the light of the half-moon that had just risen. The fellow shuffled like the blind man he was, yet he looked up with an alertness that made Hal think he saw more than any of them.
"And Shatil? He is with you?" Lotil's inflection showed that he already knew the answer.
"No, Father. I fear he perished in the temple. The soldiers overran the pyramid, destroying everything there."
The featherworker slumped slightly, stepping back into the hut before turning to face them again. "And who is this who accompanies you?" he asked.
"This is Halloran, the man I told you about, from across the sea. He came from Nexal to-to see if 1 was safe." Briefly Erix told her father about the events of that bloody afternoon.
"And the shadows, child-are they still there?" asked the old man.
"I… I don't know,