The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [176]
“Well, dweomer is much the same. You’ve got to learn all its tricks of the mind first, to say naught of the lore, details like the names of spirits and the various levels of existence. You have to know everything as well and instinctively as you know how to walk, so that you can do certain actions without having to concentrate upon them.”
“I see. It’s going to take years, isn’t it?”
“It is, but you’ve got to be patient. Now, as for trying to scry right now, what if some enemy is watching us? What if they overheard you, as it were, instead of Branna? Do you know the seals and commands to banish their efforts?”
“I don’t, truly.” Neb felt a cold wave of disappointment. “Very well, I can see what you mean by dangers.”
“Good, but here’s another one. If you rush ahead without knowing what you’re doing, you could go mad.”
“What? How?”
“By opening yourself up to unseen things without knowing how to seal them off again. When Salamander returns, I want you to ask him about this. He’s in position to know how badly things can go wrong if you’re not careful.”
“Well and good then, I will. He should be back soon, shouldn’t he?”
“I hope so, and if everything goes well on the morrow.” Dallandra hesitated, glancing into the fire again. “Salamander always has to do things in the most elaborate way possible. It’s enough to drive one daft!”
Despite Dallandra’s fears, Salamander’s plan was for him, at least, remarkably direct. With the first light of dawn he woke and dressed, then trotted out to the nearby meadow to join Arzosah. She was crouching by the stream, lapping up water. When she was done drinking, she dipped her entire head under the water for a brief moment, then raised it to shake herself dry.
“There!” Arzosah said. “All nice and clean. I do hate having dried blood on my face.”
“It must be an unpleasant sensation,” Salamander said. “I take it you found prey last night.”
“I did, thank you, and I feel much restored. I suppose you want to set off immediately. I was hoping to warm my poor aching wings by lying in the sun for a little while.”
“Go right ahead. There’s no use in making our strike until the messengers have taken the hobbles off their horses.” Salamander glanced at the pale sky, brightening as the sun inched itself above the horizon. “They’ll be desperate to make all possible speed to Zakh Gral, but they’ve got to let their mounts graze nonetheless.”
“Let’s hope they get nice and fat.” Arzosah paused for a yawn, displaying teeth the length of sword blades. “The horses, I mean, not the men. I remember Dalla’s orders.”
“Good. I’m going back to camp to get some breakfast and consult with Valandario.”
Over a scant meal of flatbread and spiced honey-water, Salamander went over the details with Valandario one last time. She and her squad would ride slowly north, waiting for his signal to dismount and continue on foot. Two of the men would stay back to control the horses in case they got a good whiff of Arzosah’s sour scent.
“I just hope we all end up in the right place at the right time,” Valandario remarked.
“I’ll make sure you do,” Salamander said. “Don’t forget that I’ll be able to see you from the air, too. It’s surprising and a little wonderful, really, how far you can see from dragonback.”
“I suppose it must be. I can’t say that I have a burning desire to try it myself.”
“It does take some getting used to. So. I’d better scry and see just what our quarry is up to.”
Just as he’d expected, Salamander found the messengers still at their camp. Out in the sunny grass their horses still grazed with their forelegs hobbled. Now and then they’d take a few rabbity steps to reach fresh grass. The men were rolling up blankets and gathering their gear. Soon, no doubt, they’d saddle up and ride. He broke the vision.
“They’re just where I left them last night,