The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [119]
Salamander woke with a start and sat up, stretching, grinning at her. “Ye gods!” he said. “You can’t have flown all this way so fast.”
“I didn’t, no,” Dalla said. “I took the secret paths, and we’ll have to go back the same way. I brought some food.”
“May the Star Goddesses bless you! I’m starved.”
Yet, being Salamander, he washed in the river and put on the clean shirt before he ate.
Dallandra decided to wait for the moon to finish rising before they attempted the return journey. Moonrise sends waves of energy ahead of it, making etheric journeys even more dangerous than they normally are. While they sat by the dark-rushing water, Salamander told her about his travels in more detail, including the position of the fort. He scried, as well, and was able to report that the river by which they sat was indeed the same one that led eventually to Zakh Gral.
“That name, by the way,” Dalla said, “means the red fort in their language.”
“And red correlates to iron, strength, and manly virtue,” Salamander said, “or so the novice lore I was learning has it.”
“It’s an odd name for that temple, then, isn’t it? One that exists to spread the truth about a new goddess.”
“Indeed. I suspect that Lakanza and her holy women are being cozened by the rakzanir on their so-called holy council. This business of Vandar’s spawn—how convenient for men who desperately need pasture for their horses!”
“I had the same sour thought.”
“And a slender excuse for killing looks fat to the Horsekin, just as it does to the Roundear lords.” He paused, considering something. “Yet their peoples prosper, and ours dwindle. Why is that?”
“There’s not enough of us for breeding stock. If the day comes when the Roundears and Horsekin stop dropping litters, they might become a lot more peaceful.”
“Let us pray for that day, then. But you know, I had a thought, when I was riding west with Rocca.”
“Just one?” Dalla grinned at him.
Salamander ignored the interruption. “And that was, we know that some refugees reached the Southern Isles. Could there be others who fled west? If so, they doubtless think themselves the only, lonely survivors, much as both we and the island refugees did.”
“You know, that’s a very interesting question.”
“Some of the younger men might be tempted into going to find the answer, especially if we can get a sea captain from the islands interested in sailing west.”
“You’re quite right. Not this summer, though.”
“Alas, not this summer. We have a rather large unpleasantness to deal with first.”
“Unpleasantness. I like how you put that.” Dallandra stood up, gazing off to the east, where the moon hung solidly above the dark horizon. “Well, let’s get back. The sooner we get on the way to Cengarn the better, and the camp will be worrying about us.”
“About you, anyway.” Salamander scrambled up to join her. “Let me put the evidence I brought into that sack of yours. The gwerbret’s going to have to admit that this plate, at least, isn’t something you can buy in the marketplace.”
“Let’s hope so. Now—stick close to me. In fact, let me take your hand. This way of traveling can be tricky, so don’t let your mind wander. Think of Valandario. She’s waiting for us, and she’ll be my focus. Build up an image of her.”
“Very well, O princess of powers perilous. I just hope my humble skills will be sufficient to—”
“Stop babbling and concentrate!”
Despite his fears, Dallandra found the road back easily enough, and he managed to walk it with her. After what seemed like a bare mile’s journey, they stepped down from the shimmering blue rocks to find themselves in sight of the elven camp, just waking in the dawn of a new day. As they