Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [113]
Admi stood for a moment more, looking out over the crowd; then he turned and gestured to his fellow councilman. Burra stepped forward and struck the gong hard thrice with the long brass hammer. Verrarc and burly Frie helped Admi down from the table. The meeting had ended.
It took a long time for the crowd to clear the plaza. At first the townsfolk stood silently, as if they knew not what to think or say, then they began to talk among themselves, forming little clots of neighbors and friends. Although many wished to leave, there were only two ways down, the winding path near the front, where three or four people could walk abreast, and a narrow goat track round the back of the Council House, which at night was too dangerous to be useful.
Those at the very back of the crowd finally began to move toward the wider path and start the long plod downhill. Since Lael was tall enough to see over the crowd, he spotted friends nearby and waved vigorously. Murmuring apologies, he and Dera began to squeeze through the crowd to meet them as they did the same from their side. Niffa lost them after they'd gone barely two yards and turned back toward the bonfire.
The councilmen were huddled, arguing over something, off to one side. With her retinue behind her, Zatcheka had moved out of earshot. In the firelight Niffa could see her looking around with the polite little smile of someone waiting. Now, she thought. I cannot let her go on hoping! She ran a hand through her hair to tidy it a bit and walked over to the Gel da'Thae. At her approach the two warriors stepped forward, staves at the ready, but Zatcheka laughed and spoke to them in her own language. They bowed and moved back to let Niffa approach.
“A good eve to you,” Zatcheka said.
“And to you, honored ambassador.” Niffa's mouth had turned dry, but she made herself go on. “My name be Niffa, a citizen of this town. I—” All of a sudden she realized that she could never tell her about Meer's death without explaining how she knew.
“Do go on. I bite not, though I have fangs.”
“My thanks. I did but wish to greet you and wish your stay here a pleasant one.”
“Truly?” Zatcheka was smiling. “I think me you do have more than that in mind. I did wonder if we'd meet, ever since I marked you at the first, when we rode in the gates.”
“You did? Why?”
“And why did you come down to the walls to wait for us? I did ask about you and found that you live here on Citadel, a goodly ways away from the gates.”
Niffa felt herself blush.
“I will tell you first,” Zatcheka said, “as is seemly for a guest. On the night before we reached your city, the gods did send me a dream. At the gates, they did say, you will see this lass. And they did show me your face.”
“And I did dream of a caravan! Go wait, my dream told me. I did think it did pertain to someone else, you see, because my brother, he be travelling home too.”
“So! The gods have had a hand in this, then. Grave things are on the move.”
“Just so, but I do wonder if it be the gods or …” Niffa let her voice trail away.
Zatcheka considered her for a moment, then smiled.
“Or the witchlore, child?”
“Just that,” Niffa said. “I take it then that you do ken these things yourself.”
“I have seen some of the sights along the witchroad. More than that I would not claim.”
“I'd not claim more either. But then I may give you the news I carry, though truly, it be sad, and I do wish I had better.”
Zatcheka went tense, her lips a little parted, her eyes narrowing.
“Be it about my son?” Zatcheka whispered. “My Meer?”
“I fear so. He—well, he has gone to