The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [154]
‘I wish in my very soul that they did lie,’ Sidro said, ‘but they do not. Some of our men have gone mad, I do think, slaying the innocent, stealing their women for slaves. Our lords do wish to slay the Westfolk, too, and steal their lands. All those of us here in this camp do decry such things and the false notions some priests spread among the faithful. We be exiles therefore.’
Bren sobbed deep in his throat, just once. For a long moment he stared at the ground, then slowly raised his head. ‘I was going to try to warn the fortress,’ he said, ‘and if you order me to, I will. But I’ll be doing it with a cold heart.’
‘Nah nah nah! I do have another charge for you.’ She turned to Pir and spoke in the Horsekin tongue. ‘Can we outfit this man with weapons and a horse?’
‘Easily. Movrae won’t be needing any of his gear in the Deathworld.’ Pir considered Bren for a moment. ‘Movrae had the new sort of sabre, but Bren will get used to it with practice.’
‘With luck he won’t need to swing it.’ Sidro returned to Deverrian for Bren. ‘Now heed me well! First, there be a need on you to rest and eat. When you be strong again, I shall give you a horse and a sword and send you with messages to the men of the Boar. Ken you them? They do dwell east and north of Lord Honelg’s dun, but a short way over the Deverry border.’
‘I’ve heard of them, holy one,’ Bren said. ‘Are they loyal to our goddess?’
‘They be so. There be a need on us to warn them. Will you ride that message? I shall show you how to see the markings of Alshandra’s holy road. It will take you there.’
‘Well and good, then.’ He smiled, one weary twitch of his mouth.
‘Return to your meal,’ Sidro said. ‘My blessings upon you.’
When Sidro turned to go, Pir got up and followed her. He waited to speak until they’d gone too far for Bren to overhear. ‘That were well-spoken.’ He used Deverrian. ‘He should make trouble for none now.’
‘What?’ Sidro spoke in their own language, then paused for a laugh more startled than amused. ‘I had no idea you spoke the Lijik tongue!’
‘Oh, I’ve tried to learn everything I need to know.’ Pir sighed and glanced away. ‘Over the years and all.’ Without another word he turned and ambled off to rejoin Bren.
Sidro returned to the cabin to find Laz still sitting at the table. He’d set the white crystal pyramid under a wizard light beside the open book of the Pseudo-Iamblichos text. Leaning on folded arms, he appeared to be studying both at once, his eyes narrowed, shadowed, so intent that the tattoos around them stood out, as thick as embroidery on his face.
Sidro sat down opposite him, folded her hands in her lap, and waited. Her years as a priestess had taught her patience if naught else. Every now and then Laz would turn a page in the book or mouth a few silent words. Outside the windows the light slowly faded until they sat surrounded by darkness in a pool of silvery glow from the wizard light, but still he read, his knife’s edge of a face all concentration. Suddenly he threw his arms in the air and laughed, a long croaking rasp of triumph.
‘I think I understand now,’ he said, grinning. ‘Sisi, look into the showstone. Tell me when you see one of your holy fools looking back.’
Sidro leaned forward on to the table on folded arms and stared into the crystal. She could see through the smoky glass of the black pyramid into the shrine back at Zakh Gral. Two oil lamps burned on the altar, a sign that someone had come into the shrine to pray. Laz, sitting opposite her, mirrored her pose and stared into the crystal from the other side. For a long while they waited under the silver wizard light until at last she saw a woman’s shape moving towards her. Rocca walked up and knelt before the altar. Her mouth moved in the salutation to the holy witness Raena.
‘Now, Laz,’ Sidro said. ‘Rocca’s looking into the black pyramid.’
Laz murmured a few words, then let his head drop onto his arms. He had slipped into full trance with