Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [109]
“Er, my apologies,” Admi said. “I see not why—”
“You see not because I've yet to finish.” Her voice, still low, snapped with command. “Hear me out, and you will know what I know.”
“Just so, just so,” Verrarc broke in. “Forgive us, Honored One. We beg you to enlighten us in our ignorance.”
“Very well then.” Zatcheka leaned back in her chair again. Her dark green eyes flicked from one to the other of the councilmen. “Because my son had brought this shame upon our city, the task of travelling here was given to me. Because such great journeys deserve a reward, I was allowed to take this orphan child into my house. Otherwise my clan would have died with me.”
She paused to lay a hand on Grallezar's head. The councilmen all nodded solemnly, even Hennis. He knew the value of heirs no matter what he thought of gods.
“So.” Zatcheka folded her hands at her waist. “This false goddess, this putrefying demoness, this walking blasphemy— she did appear to her worshippers some two springs before this spring. A priestess did come into Horsekin lands, and here be a marvel. This priestess, she who claimed to be the goddess's oracle? She were a human woman.”
“Ye gods,” Admi muttered. “Strange and twice strange, indeed.”
Verrarc felt his stomach clench. It couldn't be, he told himself. Not Raena! Yet the warm room seemed to have turned ice-cold around him.
“At first she did but speak for her goddess,” Zatcheka went on. “Then the goddess herself did appear to the tribes, and she did make them promises. They be her chosen ones, or so she does tell them, and they shall be kings over the world, all its cities, all its peoples, even unto the lands of Slavers.”
“And we,” Verrarc blurted, “we do stand right in their path.”
“Clever lad.” Zatcheka favored him with a nod. “So you do, and so do we.”
Admi had turned white. He grabbed a corner of his scarlet cloak and mopped sweat from his massive jowls. The other councilmen, Burra, Hennis, and Frie, all began to talk at once while Zatcheka considered them with narrow eyes. Admi raised his hands and yelled for silence. The babble stopped. Frie had the decency to murmur an apology to their guest, who nodded in return.
“This be a time for cold thought,” Verrarc said. “There be no need to panic like ducks at the smell of fox.”
“Just so,” Zatcheka said. “Though far be it from me to blame any man for feeling fear of the Horsekin. There be a coward's fear, and then there be prudence, and I think me the latter has the truth of it now.”
“If they march this summer,” Admi began.
“The gods do love us still, Chief Speaker,” Zatcheka broke in. “The year past, our spies do tell us, the Horsekin did march into the Land of the Slavers, and there did they suffer defeat. Many men fell before the walls of some town or other. An even greater boon is this: they did lose many horses. For some little while must they lick their wounds and let their herds replenish.”
“Which does give us a bit of time,” Verrarc said. “I thank all the gods for this.”
“Well spoken, though mayhap it's the Slavers we should be thanking.” Zatcheka paused for a long moment. “This be the time to discern who be our friends and who our foes.”
So! Verrarc thought. There it be, the thing which brought her to us. The council members looked at each other, glanced away. Hennis seemed to be about to speak, then settled back into his chair. Admi mopped his face again.
“I think me you do guess my meaning,” Zatcheka said. “For thirty years and more my town and my people have upheld an alliance with you, but that pact does touch upon matters of trade, not of war. It be time, Honored Councilmen, to put steel behind fine words.”
When the babble of talk started up again, she held up one hand flat for silence. Verrarc was struck by how oddly long and delicate her pale fingers were. The talk died down.
“I expect no answer right here and now,” she said, smiling. “Such would be most unmannerly and impious. I do ken the ways of your town. You must