The Riddle - Alison Croggon [122]
“You think so?” Dharin gave her a surprised glance. “Well, perhaps you are right. There are many dark rumors these days, and no doubt you have other news.”
Maerad squirmed a little. Because of his massive bulk and slow deliberate movements, she had not thought Dharin especially quick, but he seemed to have unsettlingly acute perceptions. “But you can’t travel in a storm,” she objected, to turn the subject.
“I have a good sled. And my dogs have run in weather worse than this,” he answered. “Admittedly, on roads that I know well. I never get lost, you see; they say I am like the wild geese, who fly to the same spot each summer from the other end of the world. But true, even the best driver in the world can fall into a hole if he can’t see it in front of him.”
Despite Dharin’s boast about traveling through blizzards, they did not begin their journey until the snowstorm abated. It lasted for three days, dumping snow in the center of the Howe until it reached the bottom of the lower windows. Every day paths were shoveled through the snow, but most people just used the tunnels.
Sirkana told Maerad that a winter this early had not been heard of since the days when the Winterking held sway over Zmarkan. “His power waxes,” the headwoman said gravely. “I do not doubt it is him. I told Cadvan of Lirigon of this, when last he was in Murask.”
Maerad’s heart gave a little flip at the mention of Cadvan’s name. “Yes, he believed that the Winterking had arisen. And he said he had traveled within sight of his stronghold,” she said. “It seems all but certain now.”
Sirkana gave her a narrow look. “I do not fully understand your quest, my brother’s daughter. But if Cadvan of Lirigon was with you, then I do not doubt it is good. And I know you do not seek to deceive me; it is difficult to lie to me. Nevertheless, I am troubled. There is within you something that I do not recognize; it is not of the Dhillarearën; it is something else.”
“It’s the Elemental blood,” said Maerad.
“Nay, it is more than that.” Sirkana frowned. “Elemental blood, so it is said, is common among the Pilani. Still, I wonder greatly that you have spoken with such beings.”
“Oh, only one,” mumbled Maerad, suddenly embarrassed. “The Elidhu called Ardina has spoken with me once or twice.”
“Hmmm.” Sirkana’s face was unreadable, and Maerad wasn’t sure if she believed her or not. “There are tales that attend you, beyond your years; that is at least clear. Well, I see there are questions of high policy that are bound up with your quest, and I will not ask further. I trust you, and not only because you are my kin. I will give you what help I can.”
The warmth that flooded into Maerad’s breast when Sirkana said she trusted her surprised her. She blinked, feeling her eyes prickle. It seemed the first time that anyone had said such a thing to her, and since the killing of the Bard in the Rilnik Plains, and Cadvan’s death in the Gwalhain Pass, she had not even trusted herself. She turned away to hide her emotion.
“I thank you, Sirkana,” she said, her voice rough.
“Ah, little one.” Sirkana put her hand on her shoulder, and Maerad started at the intimacy of the gesture. “It is hard to bear such a burden as you bear, even for one much older than you. You are very young. We are all mistaken sometimes; sometimes we do wrong things, things that have bad consequences. But it does not mean we are evil, or that we cannot be trusted ever afterward.”
Maerad said nothing; she felt that if she said anything, she would burst into a storm of tears. Sirkana had guessed shrewdly at what tormented her.
“I loved my brother,” Sirkana went on softly. “And it has been a strange shock to me to meet you, my brother’s daughter. But as I have talked with you, I can see his face in yours. There is much in you that comes from him. And he was the bravest man I have ever known, and the most honest.”
Now Maerad did begin to cry. Sirkana patted her shoulder until she stopped, wiping her eyes with her hands.
“I don’t know,” she said despairingly. “I don’t feel brave. Everything