The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [229]
“More or less,” Salamander said. “Arzosah’s on her way here. Rori seems to be somewhere off to the west.”
“I take it he’s not going to come and let me look at that wound.”
“Not soon, apparently. Arzosah will know more. I’ll contact you through the fire when I know.” Salamander stooped down and picked up a flat stone from the ground. He straightened again and tossed it with a snap of his wrist onto the surface of the ford. It only skipped twice before it sank into the water. “Not a good omen.”
“It’s a good thing that’s only a children’s game,” Dalla said, smiling. “We’ve had enough genuine bad omens as it is.”
“Yes, alas, alack, and welladay. Zakh Gral, I’m pleased to report, has apparently had no omens at all. Everything continues peaceful there.”
“Good. Have you seen any sign of the raven mazrak?”
“I haven’t, not a trace, track, or hint.”
“I keep thinking about that wretched gate I closed. Why would he have left it open like that? It must have cost him a tremendous amount of power to build it, and why just leave it? You know, he might have been inside it at the time.”
Salamander laughed in a long peal of delight. “Let us hope so, O princess of powers perilous! That would answer the question, wouldn’t it, of why he disappeared as soon as it was closed?”
“It certainly would, but stay on your guard. It’s not a surety, and besides, anyone powerful enough to create that thing can doubtless find his way out again.”
“Oh, most assuredly, but let us most devoutly pray it takes him a good long while.”
Yet even as he spoke, Dallandra felt the frost of a danger-omen along her back. “Not long enough,” she said. “Not long enough at all.”
In the morning Branna woke early. She hurried downstairs, but a bleary-eyed servant told her that the Westfolk had already struck their tents and ridden away.
“The gerthddyn’s still here, though,” the lass told her. “I saw him badgering the cook for an early breakfast.”
In but a few moments Branna saw him as well, when he came slouching into the great hall with a big chunk of bread in one hand and an apple in the other. He sat himself down on a bench in the curve of the wall over on the riders’ side of hall. Branna decided to risk a lecture from Aunt Galla and went over to join him there.
“It gladdens my heart you’ll be riding back with us,” Branna said. “I’ve got ever so many questions to ask you.”
“And here I’d hoped you were glad of my sterling character and splendid company,” Salamander said with a grin.
“You’re splendid company, sure enough, but I’ve got my doubts about your character.”
“Wise of you.” Salamander paused for a bite of bread.
“Tell me somewhat. Rori, the silver wyrm, he truly is your brother, isn’t he?”
With his mouth full, Salamander nodded.
“I thought you were just making up one of your tales, but Dallandra said it was true. She didn’t want to tell me how he got to be a dragon, though. She said I wouldn’t understand. Why not?”
Salamander swallowed hastily. “Probably because you don’t know enough about the dweomer yet. Tell me, do you know what an etheric double is? How about the body of light? Who are the Guardians?”
“Oh.” Branna felt her disappointment like a weight across her shoulders. “I don’t know any of that.”
“The dweomer, my turtledove, is a very complex thing, more complex doubtless than anything you’ve ever tried to learn in your life. Like all things, you have to start at the beginning, not at the middle nor at the end.”
“Blast! I was afraid of that.”
“But there’s one thing I can tell you about Rori, and that is, he’s gone quite daft. Arzosah told me so, and she’d be the one to know. Although—” Salamander frowned down at his bread for a moment. “Although, to be honest, Rori was daft long before he got himself changed into a dragon.”
The sensation of a double mind rose again to trouble her. She should know exactly what Salamander meant, or so she felt, and yet of course she’d not even known the dragon’s name until a few weeks past.
When the other noble-born women came downstairs, Branna