Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [127]
“Dalla? I'm not interrupting you, am I?”
“You're not,” Dallandra said. “Did you think I was casting a spell or suchlike?”
“Well, I didn't know, you see. I wanted to ask you: Lady Ocradda gave me some rose oil when we were leaving, just as a little remembrance. I've put some on this rag for Elessi. The stench here is just so awful. But the rose scent won't be bad for her, will it?”
“I shouldn't imagine it would, and it's bound to be better than the smell of this lake.”
Elessi was awake, sitting up in her mother's embrace and looking around her. Since she let the scarf be without fussing, no doubt she agreed with their opinion of the air. Nose down and busy, Lightning trotted back and forth, stopping now and then to roll on the ground. It must have all smelled like delicious carrion to him.
“This is fascinating,” Carra said abruptly. “Not the stink, I mean, but everything else. Look at this town! It's half in the water and half out.”
“It's a marvel, truly.”
“I never knew the Rhiddaer and people like Jahdo existed, and here I've lived my whole life long on the western border!”
Dallandra suppressed a smile. Carra's whole life long amounted to some sixteen winters—at the most.
“I've got to find out when it was built,” Carra went on, “Cerr Cawnen, I mean. Jahdo doesn't know, but someone must. And how did the escaped bondsmen build it? Did someone help them? They couldn't have had masons and suchlike when they first came here.”
“I'd not thought about all that. It truly does interest you, then.”
“It does. When we were all back in Cengarn, Jahdo told me a fair bit, and then poor dear Meer told me what he knew about the history of the Rhiddaer, but neither of them knew how this place was built. I'd love to just poke around here, like, and ask the old people things. Some of them may have been told ancient lore by their grandparents.”
The passion in her voice took Dallandra by surprise for a second time.
“I forget how much you love the old lore,” Dallandra said at last. “I'll wager that the old people in town will be pleased to talk with you. They probably don't get too many ready listeners.”
In the sky the twilight was fading, covering the camp with soft night. The evening star appeared, like a scout beckoning the army of stars to follow it out. When Dallandra glanced back she saw Dar and his men building a fire in their camp. Melimaladar walked a few paces away, saw the evening star, and began to sing. The others took up the music, which drifted like smoke along the lakeshore. From their tents came Gel da'Thae to stand listening in the dusk. The peace of the moment struck Dalla, bringing tears to her eyes, that men of the Westfolk and the Gel da'Thae should camp like this, side by side. But in the morning? she thought.
When someone called her name, Dallandra turned and saw Niffa, walking toward them, carrying a candle lantern. Dallandra hailed her with a wave.
“Who's that?” Carra asked.
“Jahdo's sister. And my new apprentice.”
“Truly? Well, that's exciting!”
“It is, indeed.”
With a pleasant greeting Niffa strolled over, holding up the lantern. When the pool of light fell on the women's faces, Carra stared, her eyes widening. Niffa started to speak, then fell silent, studying Carra's face in turn. They had recognized each other. Dallandra turned cold with the certain knowledge that in some life or other these two women had been bound together by Wyrd. Yet as those moments do, this one faded fast. Carra stammered out a “good evening,” and with a sickly little smile Niffa answered, then looked away, blushing.
“Well, now,” Dallandra said briskly. “Let's go back to the fire. I'm hungry enough to eat a wolf, pelt and all.”
That evening, as they sat at the campfire with Dar and his men, they talked mostly of ordinary things. Niffa had much to tell them about the situation in the town, and she in turn quite understandably wanted to learn all she could about the Westfolk.
Every now and then Dallandra would notice