The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [204]
Gerran started to answer, then held his tongue.
‘Besides,’ Dallandra continued, ‘you don’t understand them. Do you know what the greatest fear of every Gel da’ Thae is?’
‘I don’t,’ Gerran said. ‘Why should I?’
‘Because they’re your enemies, and you need to know them.’
‘Well, true spoken. My apologies.’
‘Accepted. They’re terrified that they’ll somehow slip back, lose the civilized life they’ve worked so hard for, and turn into those savages again.’
‘They’re not far from it. What about the way they stake out prisoners, and the long spear, and all of that? I can’t call it anything but savage.’
‘The priests claim that the gods demand it. Didn’t your priests used to demand heads and sacrifices?’
‘So the bards tell us, but—’
‘But what?’ Dallandra snapped. ‘And how long has it been since your folk stopped taking heads? I gather that it still happens now and then. And what about drawing and hanging, like Ridvar wanted to do to the prisoners from Honelg’s dun? And he would have killed Cadryc’s little grandson in cold blood if you and Neb hadn’t stopped him.’
Gerran was staring at her open-mouthed. Dallandra caught his gaze and stared him down. With a shake of his head, Gerran looked away.
‘Point taken.’ Gerran’s voice was perfectly calm. ‘Ten of one, half-a-twenty of the other.’
‘Well and good, then,’ Dallandra said.
Salamander let out his breath in a long sigh of relief, then wondered why he’d been holding it. Had he really thought they might come to blows?
‘I knew one of their bards once; he was a truly learned man,’ Dallandra went on. ‘And don’t forget, I’ve visited Braemel. Most of their people live peacefully enough. They have craft shops and traders, they have law courts and temples.’
‘I see.’ Gerran paused briefly. ‘Well, it’s too easy, mayhap, to see your enemies as fiends from hell. Here, Salamander, what was it that scribe called them? The name your people have for them.’
‘Meradan,’ Salamander said, ‘demons, that would be, in the Deverry tongue. The Gel da’ Thae in turn call your people the Red Reivers, just by the by.’
Gerran looked honestly startled.
‘Think on that,’ Dallandra said. ‘But I can’t deny that the warriors can act like savages. They live for death, and they cling to their old ways. Horrible blood-thirsty ways, they are, too, including that awful ritual of the long spear.’ Dallandra paused for a shudder.
‘A question for you, Wise One,’ Gerran said. ‘If these ordinary townsfolk interfere with the Horsekin warbands, what then?’
‘That’s what Grallezar and her people tried to do.’
Gerran smiled, a brief twitch of cold lips. ‘So I thought. We’ll just kill as many of their warriors as we can.’ He bowed to Dallandra. ‘That’ll be enough for me.’
With a cheerful little wave he strode off, leaving Dallandra staring after him with stricken eyes.
‘I know what you’re thinking, oh mistress of mighty magicks,’ Salamander said in Elvish. ‘But he’s a good man in his way.’
‘So’s Cal in his.’ Dallandra answered in the same. ‘And he’d agree with Gerran down to the last word.’
When Dallandra went inside the tent, Salamander followed to leave his saddlebags and the black stone inside them in a safe place while he attended upon the tieryn. A heap of sacks and pack saddles waited, neatly arranged in a useful order, blankets and bandages to one side, herbs to the other, and in between such few tools as Dallandra had. When she’d done looking them over, she sat down with a long sigh. Salamander knelt down on one knee nearby and stowed his saddlebags behind the mule packs.
‘It was good of Grallezar to do all this,’ Dallandra said.
‘Indeed,’ Salamander said. ‘I’m surprised that a person of her high position would, though, alas, she lacks any sort of position at the moment.’
‘Do you know why the women are the leaders among the Gel da’ Thae?’
‘No, but I’ve often wondered.’
‘It was after the Great Burning and the plague. When they realized what they’d destroyed by destroying us, the remnant left decided