Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [107]
“I know not, Mam,” Kiel said. “But truly, Verrarc did warn us. If you see my lady near the camp, said he, escort her home.”
For a brief moment Niffa felt her breath catch ragged in her throat. She recovered with a little gasp and found Dera and Lael both staring at her.
“There be dark times,” Niffa said. “And that be all I know.”
Lael muttered a brief prayer to the gods, then handed her a chunk of bread. While she ate, Niffa found herself thinking about Zatcheka, come so far to look for her son. Was Meer still alive? She'd never thought to ask Dallandra, not once in all their conversations in the Gatelands of Sleep. It seemed a selfish omission, all of a sudden. I'll ask tonight, she thought. Surely Dalla will know if he walks on the earth or under it.
When Verrarc arrived home, he found Raena there before him, pacing back and forth in front of the empty hearth. The last of the sunlight poured through the window and caught the gold necklace. Its dangling teardrops gleamed like flames.
“That necklace does look splendid upon you, my love,” he said. “It gladdens my heart that you do like it. It did belong to my mother.”
“It be a lovely piece.” Raena put her hands on his shoulders. “You have my thanks.”
When he kissed her, she smiled but moved a step away.
“Those Gel da'Thae,” she said. “Do you know what might bring them here?”
“I don't. The woman Zatcheka? When we did escort her to the campsite, she kept her mouth as tight shut as a miser keeps his purse. And the lass and the merchant both say naught unless she does give them leave.”
Raena muttered a foul oath and flung herself into a chair. Verrarc sat down more slowly across from her.
“What troubles you so badly?” he said.
“I know not yet. Some dweomer-cold lies round my heart, that they mean harm for me and mine.”
“Harm for the town?”
“Nah nah nah, for you and me. The town—” Raena caught herself and forced a smile. “The town lies dear to your heart, I know. But somehow I ken not its omens. If I could but go to the ruins and summon Lord Havoc, I—”
“I'll not have you risking that! Ye gods, if Werda found out, she'd rouse the town against you.”
“True.” Raena sat thinking for a long moment. “It behooves me to be as cunning as a weasel, then, and find some other way to read the omens.”
“That might be a useful thing indeed.”
Niffa woke heartsick at first light. In her dreams she had met Dallandra, and indeed, Meer lay buried back in the country of the Slavers. Even though Dallandra had offered to do the telling once she arrived in Cerr Cawnen, it seemed only kind to inform Zatcheka now instead of letting her hope in vain for days more. Niffa had to admit that she was frightened. How could she, the ratters' lass, approach such an important guest?
As soon as the sun had risen, Niffa took her yoke and buckets and went to fetch the day's clean water. Maneuvering them through the narrow passage outside the ratters' door took all her concentration, but once she reached the path proper, she became aware of a flurry of noise and bustle just downhill. She stepped to one side and saw the Council of Five coming up, moving slowly so that
Admi, who was quite stout, could keep up without undignified puffing and panting. Striding along in their midst was Zatcheka, wearing the same leather cap but a full-length straight-cut dress of doeskin, decorated with beads and metal disks, that left her hairless arms bare. This close, Niffa could see that each disk bore a symbol stamped on it, and that some of the beads seemed to be little rolled-up scraps of parchment or cloth. At her waist she wore a loose-fitting belt of copper chain, from which hung either a very long knife or a very short sword in a leather sheath. The climb apparently bothered her not at all, because she was singing some long wail of a Gel da'Thae song under her breath. Bringing up the rear came Grallezar, carrying a small leather sack and dressed much like her adopted mother, and two Gel da'Thae warriors