The Silver Mage - Katharine Kerr [31]
“Ah gen Evandares,” she said.
She set the basket down on the table, then brought out a pair of crystal pyramids, one black, one white, glittering in the morning sunlight. She handed the black to Rhodorix but kept the white. When she gestured with her free hand, Rhodorix realized that she wanted him to hold the pyramid close to his face. She smiled when he did so, then spoke into her crystal.
“My name is Hwilli.” Her words seemed to come out of the black crystal, yet at the same time he heard in the normal way her speaking in her unfamiliar tongue. “What’s your name?”
“Rhodorix, and my brother is Gerontos.” He aped her manner-ism and spoke directly into the crystal.
“What strange names!” Yet her smile made the comment pleasant. “My master has asked me to talk to you and for you, because you and I are both Children of Aethyr.”
“Children of what? My apologies, but I don’t know that word.”
“The word doesn’t matter.” She smiled again. “Let’s just say that you and I are more alike than we’re like his people.”
That’s as true as it can be! Rhodorix thought. Aloud, he said, “Then my thanks. Can my brother’s leg be saved?”
“It can, though I doubt me if it’ll heal perfectly straight. Still, he should be able to walk without pain.”
Tears of relief welled up in Rhodorix’s eyes. He brushed them away, then repeated the news to Gerontos. Gerro grinned so broadly that his smile was all the thanks that anyone needed. The healer patted him on the shoulder and then spoke to Hwilli, who in turn spoke to Rhodorix through the crystal.
“Your brother needs to rest. Give him plenty of water whenever he asks. And make sure he eats, too, will you?”
“I will, and gladly.”
“In a little while a servant will come to lead you to the bathhouse. Others will help your brother get clean here. Um, your people do bathe, don’t they?”
“Whenever we can.” Rhodorix ran one hand over his stubbled face. “We shave, too.”
“I’ll tell the servant that. I’ll leave this piece of stone with you. If you need something, give it to the servant and ask through the black one.”
“Very well. One last thing, though. What’s in that stuff you smeared on his leg?”
“Wine, honey, and egg whites. It stiffens the linen as it dries.”
“So I see, and my thanks.”
Hwilli set the white crystal down upon the table. The healer and his retinue left, talking among themselves. Much to Rhodorix’s surprise, he could pick out three words that he understood—heal, leg, and water—words Hwilli had used when she spoke to him through the pyramid.
A bath, a clean tunic, and a good bronze razor went a long way to making both Rhodorix and Gerontos feel like men again. Later that day Hwilli returned with a flock of servants and a litter. She put the crystals into their basket, then gave orders to the servants. Rhodorix followed as they carried Gerontos to another chamber, this one with a bed that sported a straw mattress and blankets, big enough for the two brothers to share. Once they’d gotten Gerontos settled, Hwilli dismissed the servants. She handed Rhodorix the black pyramid and took up the white.
“You’re a fighting man?” she said.
“I am that.” He hesitated then decided that she needn’t know of his shame. “So is my brother. We know swordcraft.”
“Good. Our rhix needs swordsmen. Will you fight for him?”
“It would gladden my heart to repay you for the aid you’ve given us, but truly, who is your rhix? Is he the head of your clan? I’ve never heard of him or this dunum until Evandar said its name.”
She stared at him slack-mouthed, then laughed. “You must come from very far away.”
“We do. We were fleeing the Rhwmanes.”
“Ah, so that’s what you call them! Master Jantalaber thought your tribe might have been trying to escape them. The master is the man who set your brother’s leg, by the by. The rhix is Ranadar of the Vale of Roses, cadvridoc of the Seven Cities, Master of Garangbeltangim.”
“My thanks. I’d not heard of him before this day.”
“I see. Master Jantalaber mentioned that Evandar favored you.”
“Well, he saved my brother and me from