The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [134]
He nodded, his eyes full of tears. A child, Sidro thought. How could they have wanted to kill a child? She was getting a different view of her beloved Alshandra’s Elect, here among exiles.
She came to know the other men by sight as they went about various errands: gathering firewood, bringing home game or fish, cleaning weapons, talking among themselves. Most were full-blooded Gel da’ Thae—thieves and political exiles both—but she counted five obvious half-breeds, three mostly Horsekin in appearance, two who could easily have passed for Lijik, just as she and Laz often did. The unofficial leader of the mixed blood men was Faharn, who had the thick black mane and welter of tattoos of a Horsekin man but whose blue eyes told of slave blood in his background.
If Pir was Laz’s friend, then Faharn was his disciple. Laz had taught him magic when they both lived in Taenalapan and continued the lessons when Faharn had followed him into exile. At first, Sidro tried to talk with Faharn as she did with Pir, just a pleasant chat as they got to know each other, but if he answered at all, Faharn spat out short words only and ended the conversation as fast as he could.
‘Why does he resent me so much?’ Sidro asked Laz.
‘You’ve interrupted his training,’ Laz said. ‘It’s too bad that he doesn’t have much of a gift for magic. He wants to learn it very badly. But there’s no need for him to blame you for my obsessive lust.’ He grinned at her. ‘I’ll have a word with him.’
After that, Faharn made an obvious effort to be civil to Sidro, but she still caught him watching her at times with a weary resentment.
She worried about Faharn’s ill-will, but not half as much as she feared Movrae, a full-blooded Gel da’ Thae who, according to Laz, had joined the band not because he had magical gifts, but because he’d deserted his military unit. Had he stayed in the towns, they would have found him easily, since he wore his regiment’s name and number tattooed across his face. Whenever Movrae saw Sidro at the window, he would stand and stare at her from a distance, narrow-eyed and so grim that she had no idea whether he felt lust or some strange rage. She would leave the window until Laz or Pir chased him away.
On a sultry afternoon Sidro was standing just to one side of the window, so she could get some air while staying out of Movrae’s sight. She heard Laz talking in an irritated near-whisper, but she couldn’t quite discern what he was saying. Pir’s answer, however, she heard quite clearly.
‘She’ll have to know sooner or later,’ the horse mage said.
They moved away, but when Laz came back inside, Sidro told him that she’d been eavesdropping.
‘And just what is it that I’ll have to know?’ she said. ‘You might as well tell me sooner rather than later.’
‘Oh, it’s nothing, really. Just another sign that we’ve sunk to the level of savages. I’m thinking of having Movrae killed.’
For a moment she was shocked enough to believe him. He shrugged and turned away, but he was looking back at her out of the corner of his eye, and she could see the barest twitch of a smile on his mouth.
‘Don’t lie!’ she snapped.
‘I’m not lying.’ He turned back. The child-like innocence on his face convinced her that indeed, he’d lied. ‘The way he stares at my woman bothers me. Don’t savage tribal chiefs always kill men who covet their woman?’
‘I don’t have the slightest idea, but I do know you’re a liar.’
‘Then I won’t say anything.’ He grinned at her. ‘But I’m not going to tell you the truth, either. Don’t bother to try to pry it out of me.’
‘Laz—’
‘Although—’ He hesitated briefly. ‘Now that I think of it –’ He turned and walked out without another word.
Sidro ran to the door and yelled insults after him until she realized that Faharn stood within earshot. She stepped back in and slammed the door shut, then stood fuming in the centre of the cabin. As her anger receded, she noticed that trouble seemed to be brewing outside. She heard men’s voices shouting in anger. Over them rang Laz’s laughter, a shrill croak like a raven’s call. She hesitated, afraid