The Silver Mage - Katharine Kerr [156]
The apprentice looked less than reassured, but Niffa hurried past him. Her clogs clattered on the stone-laid alleyways as she trotted along. The temple stood some distance from her brother’s house, round back and just down the hill. As she drew near, she could smell dragon, but trees blocked the temple from her view.
“Rori!” she called out. “Be you here?”
“I am,” he called back, his voice as deep as thunder. “And the bearer of ill news indeed.”
Niffa turned cold all over as the omen returned to her mind. She made her way through the trees and straggly weeds to find the dragon lounging on the remains of the temple’s roof. She clambered up on fallen blocks of stone until she was more or less at his level.
“I’d guess the trouble be the Horsekin,” she said. “Bain’t?”
“It is indeed. An army of them is assembling up north, and they seem to be headed this way.”
“Only seem to be?” She clutched at the tiny comfort of the words.
“Where else would they be going?”
The comfort vanished. “True spoken,” she said. “We be the only prize worth fighting for in this part of the land. Have we any chance of fending them off?”
“Not alone. I’m on my way to Prince Daralanteriel. He’s allied with you, and he has archers.”
“Not enough. I be no fool, Rori.”
“Alas, ’tis true.” He lowered his head, and his oddly human, dark blue eyes watered in sympathy. “Still, it’s far too early to give up hope. Dar can call upon his alliance with Deverry. It’s obvious that if Cerr Cawnen falls, the Westlands will go next, and then the Horsekin will be at the Deverry border.”
“Will the prince of the Slavers see that as jeopardy?”
“Of course! And so will the High King once the prince informs him. Now. Is Jahdo still Chief Speaker here?”
“He is.”
“It’ll be up to him to keep your people from panic, and I can’t think of a better man for the job.”
“No more can I. He’ll be mustering the town council as soon as I do tell him.”
“Good! Besides, if arrows won’t turn the Horsekin back, there’s dweomer, too, for a weapon.”
The dweomer was already warning her of disaster. For Jahdo’s sake, she kept that knowledge to herself.
After Rori left, flying straight south like a silver spear hurled into the blue, Niffa lingered among the fallen stones of the temple. She used the trees, swaying in the summer wind, as a focus and contacted Dallandra. She repeated the gist of Rori’s message and saw her fellow dweomermaster’s image turn pale.
“This be horrible news, but Rori be on his way back to you,” Niffa said. “He’ll be telling you more than I know.”
Dalla’s image, floating on the surface of a shallow stream, nodded her agreement. “Go tell Jahdo,” Dallandra said. “I’m going straight to Prince Dar with this.”
“Well and good, then. I be remembering Cleddrik. He were the fellow from Penli, who did come to us begging for shelter behind our walls should war come upon us. I did wonder at his fear, but it did turn out that he were merely prudent.”
An exhausted Rori returned to the royal alar with the sunset and found a council of war waiting for him out in the meadow. Although Arzosah had gone off hunting earlier in the day, Dallandra and Salamander had joined Daralanteriel and the banadar. In the sky, a few clouds caught the sinking light like streaks of blood across the blue, or so they seemed to Dalla’s troubled mind.
When Rori finished his report, Prince Dar swore softly to himself. He turned to his banadar and raised a questioning eyebrow.
“The situation’s plain enough,” Calonderiel said. “If the Horsekin take Cerr Cawnen, then they’ll have a fortified salient.” Cal turned to the dragon. “Do you think we can defend Cerr Cawnen?”
“Not unless we move settlers up there. It’s too far north, too isolated. You’d need a new gwerbretrhyn and a thousand good riders and archers to hold it.”
“And how many farms,” Salamander put in, “would it take to feed them all?”
“Huh!” Calonderiel snorted profoundly. “We can barely hold onto the Melyn River Valley as it is. Dar, sometimes I wish you’d never made that alliance with Jahdo’s people.”
“But I did make it,”