Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [102]
“That gladdens my heart beyond all else,” Niffa said. “My thanks! But who will come with you, then?”
“Rather a lot of people, and an escort of armed men, but all of them friends.”
“Then welcome they'll all be. Will the black dragon be with you?”
“Here! How do you know about Arzosah?”
“Be that her name? One of the great wyrms did speak to me, some days just past, and somehow I—” Niffa hesitated, puzzled. “I know not how I know, but somehow I do feel in my heart that the beast be tied to you in some way.”
“Your heart is right. She'll be coming with us. You know, lass, it's time we spoke of your future. Do you know what the dweomer lore is?”
Again Niffa nearly lost the vision, but she steadied it so easily that she knew her Wyrd had come upon her.
“I think me I do,” Niffa said. “Be it what we call the witchroad here?”
“Just so. Do you realize how strong a gift you have?”
“The Spirit Talker did say somewhat about it, truly.”
“Well, I want you to think very carefully about that while you wait for us. If you want to follow the witchroad, the dweomer road, then I'll take you on as an apprentice.” Dallandra held up one hand for silence. “Say naught now. Think upon it most carefully. This is no light decision to make.”
“That I do understand. And my thanks from the bottom of my heart.”
“Splendid! Now, I've no real idea how long it will take us to reach Cengarn, but we'll be there as soon as we can. Fare thee well for now.”
Dallandra waved her hand, and the vision seemed to roll up like a blanket from one edge to the other. All at once Niffa lay awake in her bed, with dawnlight silvering the room. She got up, and as she dressed she could hear her mother and father, speaking in low voices. I'd best tell Mam, she thought. But not today—I'll wait till Jahdo's home. There be no use in her losing me till our lad be back to give her joy.
On the day of their departure, Jahdo woke long before dawn. For a while he lay awake in the straw by the dragon hearth in the great hall—the bed he shared with the other boys in the dun. He tried to get back to sleep, but finally, when windows turned grey with the dawn outside, the excitement drove him up. Since he slept fully dressed, all he needed to do was pull on his boots, and he was ready. The night before he'd made his meager possessions into a bundle. By the light coming from the main door he wrapped them in his blanket and tied the corners to secure them.
By the hearth one of the boys sat up, looked around, and then got up to join him: Cae, the only real friend he'd made in the dun. For a moment Cae stood rubbing the sleep from his eyes on the sleeve of his torn and dirty shirt.
“Ah well,” Cae said finally. “You'll be off, then?”
“I will, truly.”
Cae stooped and took one end of the bundle. Jahdo took the other, and together they carried it out to the stables. In the grey dawnlight Cae's dark eyes brimmed with tears.
“I wish I had a home to go to.” His voice ached with them, too. “Think of me now and again, will you?”
“I will.” Jahdo hesitated, wishing he could think of something to say. “Uh, I'll pray to the gods that you fare well.”
Cae turned and ran for the great hall. His day of hard work in the kitchens would begin soon. Jahdo took a few steps after him, then stopped, knowing that there was nothing he could say that would ease the loss for either of them.
He went into the gwerbret's stables for the last time and led Gidro, the brown mule, and Bahkti, the white packhorse, out of their stalls. Gidro belonged to the town council of Cerr Cawnen, but Bahkti had come with Meer the bard from the lands of the Gel da'Thae. Although Jahdo had inherited all of Meer's worldly goods, he thought that the horse perhaps still belonged to Meer's tribe or mother—no one had been able to tell him.
“We're going home,” Jahdo said to them. “Well, it's home for you anyway, Gidro.”
The mule tossed its head as if it understood. Jahdo led them out to the watering trough and let them drink while he watched the eastern sky silvering with the first of dawn. Home. Soon he would be