Paladin of Souls - Lois McMaster Bujold [131]
I could run away. No one else here can, but I could.
If I chose to.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
FOIX, DISQUIET IN HIS EYES, LEANED HIS ELBOWS ON THE balustrade by Ista’s side to watch Arhys exit. “Remarkable man,” he observed. “If that Jokonan sorceress’s purpose was to remove Porifors from the strategic map, paralyze its strength as a fortress . . . she may have achieved some success even in her failure, to have crippled such a commander. Or worse than crippled, the Daughter forbid.”
Liss came over to rest against the rail on Ista’s other side, listening and frowning in worry.
“What did you sense of that demon, when you met Lady Cattilara in the forecourt?” Ista asked Foix.
He shrugged. “Nothing very clearly. I felt . . . prickly. Uneasy.”
“You did not see it, riding within her soul like a shadow?”
“No, Royina.” He hesitated. “Can you?”
“Yes.”
He cleared his throat. “Ah . . . can you see mine?” Absently, his hand rubbed his belly.
“Yes. It looks like the shadow of a bear, hiding in a cave. Does it speak to you?”
“Not . . . exactly. Well, a little. Not in words, but I can sense it, if I sit quietly and pay attention. It is much calmer and happier than it was at first. Tamer.” He managed a lopsided grin. “I have been training it to do some tricks, when the divine does not harass me.”
“Yes, I saw the one on the road. Very clever of you both, but very dangerous. Do you have any sense of what it was, or where it was, before it found you?”
“A bear, wandering in the wild. A bird before that, I think, for neither the bear nor I could ever have viewed the mountains from above, and I now seem to have such a memory. Confused, but I do not think I dreamed it. Swallowing huge insects, ugh. Except that they weren’t ugh. Ugh! Before that . . . I don’t know. I think it does not remember being newborn, any more than I remember being a mewling infant. It had existence, but not wits as such.”
Ista straightened, stretching her aching back. “When we return to Lord Illvin’s chamber, study his attendant, Goram. I believe he once held a demon, as you now do.”
“The groom was a sorcerer? Ha. Well, why not? If a demon can lodge in a bear, why not in a simpleton?”
“I do not think he was always a simpleton. I suspect he may have once been a cavalry officer of Roya Orico’s army, before he was taken prisoner and enslaved unransomed. Study Goram closely, Foix. He may be your mirror.”
“Oh,” said Foix, and shrank a little. Liss’s frown deepened.
At length the carved door opened, and Goram gestured them all back inside. The sheets had been changed, the bloodied linen robe whisked away, and Illvin dressed for company in his tunic and trousers, his hair tied back. Ista was obscurely grateful that he was made so presentable before her companions. Goram fetched the chair for her, and with little bobbing bows seated her by Illvin’s bedside.
Dy Cabon reported to Ista in an awed whisper, “I watched the wounds close up, just now. Extraordinary.”
Lord Illvin gingerly rubbed his right shoulder and smiled across at Ista. “I seem to have missed a busy morning, Royina, except not quite. Learned dy Cabon has been telling me of his alarming ride. I am glad your lost company is returned to you. I hope your heart is eased.”
“Much eased.”
Dy Cabon took the stool at the foot of the bed, a precarious perch for his bulk. Ista introduced Foix, and gave a short, blunt précis of his encounter with the bear, by way of preamble to describing his performance on the road. Goram hovered anxiously on the bed’s other side, putting bites to Illvin’s mouth while he listened.
Illvin, frowning, fended off a piece of bread, and said, “That such a raiding party should come so close to Porifors indicates either a young Jokonan hothead swaggering for show, or something moving behind. What say our scouts?”
“Dispatched, not yet returned,” said Ista. “Lord Arhys prepares, he tells us, and has sent out warnings to the countryside.”