The Gold Falcon - Katharine Kerr [82]
“Come join us,” Dar said.
Calonderiel swept up the dice and offered her the doeskin.
“Thank you.” Dallandra sat down on the skin instead of the bare dirt. “I’ve got some bad news. Ebañy’s heading straight into trouble.”
“Why am I not surprised?” Calonderiel glanced at the prince. “It’s a good thing we’ll be riding north.”
“And meeting up with Valandario’s alar, too,” Dar said. “Does Devaberiel know his son’s stirring up trouble again?”
“Oh, yes. He says he’s not in the least surprised,” Dallandra said. “Where’s your scribe, Dar? I’ve got a question for him.”
“Inside, helping Carra get the children to sleep. They’re suffering from the sudden end of too much excitement, if you ask me. He can tell some good tales when he sets his mind to it.”
The fire was burning low, but even so, its heat on this humid evening was making them all uncomfortable.
“Mael, will you smother that?” Dallandra said.
He nodded his agreement and picked up a shovel from the ground. While he pounded the embers into oblivion, Dallandra raised her hand and called upon the Wildfolk of Aethyr. They clustered around her, and when she snapped her fingers, they produced a silver ball of light, as misty as a moon through clouds. She tossed it straight up, where the Folk of the Air caught and held it.
“That’s better,” Cal said. “But the smoke does keep some of these cursed gnats away.”
“I’d rather have gnats than sweat,” Dalla said. “We’re almost out of wood anyway.”
Not long after Meranaldar came out of the tent. Dar glanced his way and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“They’re asleep, my prince,” Meranaldar said. “Barely. The princess will stay with them until she’s sure that Elessi won’t wake.” He bowed to the prince, then sat down next to Dallandra. “Did I hear that you have a question for me?”
“You did, yes. Where was Tanbalapalim? Do you know how it fared in the Great Burning?”
“It was the most northward of the Seven Cities, and thus the first to fall. The Mera went on a rampage, or so the old records said, smashing and burning the place. Later they tried to rebuild, but I don’t know how successfully.”
“They would have been wiped out, wouldn’t they? By disease, I mean.”
“I’d say so—eventually. Since the plague began in Rinbaladelan, down on the seacoast, it stands to reason that it would have reached Tanbalapalim last. Why?”
“Ebañy’s been told that Horsekin are living there again.”
Meranaldar stared at her in surprise, then turned thoughtful. “They must have moved back recently. Evandar told me on several occasions that the plague had wiped out the invaders in every city.”
“He told me the same thing,” Dallandra said. “Zatcheka and the Gel da’Thae have always assumed that they’re the only group of Horsekin to live in a city. They did resettle Braemel, but then they built new towns south of it. How far south of Tanbalapalim is Braemel?”
“One book says a hundred and eighty miles, but another gives the distance as just over two hundred.” Meranaldar frowned in thought. “I hate it when sources disagree, but we can be fairly certain that Tanbalapalim was indeed distant. It was a northern outpost, really, in the High Mountains.”
“It’s isolated, then.” Dalla said. “And the Gel da’Thae don’t travel too far from home unless they absolutely have to. They wouldn’t have stumbled across the Horsekin there.”
“Even if they had, what then?” Daralanteriel leaned forward to join the conversation. “If they’ve fortified one of the old cities, we won’t be able to chase them out of it.”
“I’m beginning to wonder if it’s hopeless.” Cal shook his head in frustration. “We can beat the Horsekin back and back, but in the end there’s a lot more of them than there