The Silver Mage - Katharine Kerr [56]
“It was,” Ranadar said. “But there were stairways leading up to gardens on the surface. I heard that Meradan breached the upper walls and broke in through those doors.”
“There must have been a cursed lot of them.” Andariel had steadied himself. “Your Highness, I’m surprised that anyone could get past Mountain axemen, especially in those narrow tunnels. The Meradani losses—”
“—must have been high, yes, but take no comfort in it. The mages tell me that the Meradan have reinforcements. The Children of Aethyr have risen in revolt. They’ve deserted the farms around the northern cities and joined up with the Hordes.”
Andariel swore under his breath. Both men glanced at Rhodorix, then quickly looked away.
“Does Your Highness doubt my loyalty?” Rhodorix said.
“Of course not!” Ranadar frowned at him, then smoothed the expression away. “Though I can see why you’d ask. Have no fear on that score, Horsemaster.”
“My humble thanks, then.”
The silence hung between them like smoke, acrid and choking.
“Your Highness?” Andariel broke it at last. “Were there any survivors from Lin Rej?”
“A few.” Ranadar paused briefly, his face slack with perceived horror. “They’re on their way here. I want you and your men to ride out to meet them, just in case there are any stray Meradani patrols riding around looking for prey. The Mountain Folk are traveling on the Tanbalapalim Road. They left some of their fighting men behind to winter in the fortress there. The rest and some women are heading our way.”
“We’ll fetch them, Your Highness,” Andariel glanced at Rhodorix. “Horsemaster, how will the horses fare in the snow?”
“Well enough, unless there’s a blizzard,” Rhodorix said. “Their winter coats are good and shaggy, and we’ll take blankets for them at night.”
“Yes, we may have to camp on the road,” Andariel said. “Snow or no snow.”
“I don’t think the Mountain Folk are all that far away,” Ranadar put in, “but it’s hard for the mages to scry in this weather.”
“Of course,” Andariel said. “Understood, Your Highness.”
Rhodorix understood nothing of this talk of scrying, but he was willing to take sorcery on faith, since both his prince and his woman believed in it.
It took some time for the horse guards to ready themselves and their supplies for the road. Rhodorix used a bit of it to find Hwilli and tell her where and why he’d be gone.
“I heard about Lin Rej from Master Jantalaber,” Hwilli said. “The mages can speak with each other somehow.” She went pale about the mouth. “He said that the slaughter was dreadful.”
“No doubt. The prince looked shaken himself.” Rhodorix let out his breath in a sharp sigh. “Well, we’ll do what we can for the survivors. Tell me somewhat. Gerontos wants to ride with us. Should he?”
“No. The cold will cramp every muscle on that weak leg. He won’t be able to stand up, much less fight if you need him to.”
“I’ll tell him no, then.” Rhodorix laid his hands on either side of her face. “Give me a kiss, beloved, and then I’ll be on my way.”
Hwilli kissed him as eagerly, as passionately as she always did, yet as he walked away, he found himself wondering if Gerontos was truly unfit to fight, or if she merely preferred having him stay in the fortress. Don’t be a fool! he told himself. You’ve not seen one thing to make you jealous, not one! Besides, he asked himself, what if I die in battle one fine day? He decided that he’d rather have Gerontos take Hwilli than any other man and put the matter out of his mind.
hwilli hated seeing Rhodorix ride out on patrol, simply because she was terrified that he’d be killed—not an unreasonable fear, given the times. Since she had learned the basic principles of dweomer fast and easily, Master Jantalaber had begun teaching her how to scry, a skill she found elusive. The master would place a pair of objects on a table in the chamber next to hers. Since she knew what the table looked like, she could first imagine it and then try to see what lay upon it, but the image of the table in her mind stayed stubbornly empty, a memory only.
When, however, she