The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [85]
‘Morri, I thought you might like somewhat other than meat,’ Tirro said.
‘Well, that does look lovely, and my thanks,’ Morwen said, but she was thinking that she would rather have had the privacy.
Tirro passed the bread and honey around, talking all the while, but he saved his real news till the last.
‘We’re leaving tomorrow,’ Tirro said. ‘It’ll sadden my heart to go, truly.’
‘Well, once you’ve become that rich Bardekian merchant,’ Loddlaen said, ‘mayhap you can return.’
Tirro tried to smile, but he suddenly looked like a small child, lost in some strange place but determined not to cry.
‘Or maybe sooner than that,’ Morwen said. ‘From what you’ve told us, Bardekian goods should do well out here. Spices for the meats, carpets for the tents, that sort of thing.’
‘That’s true!’ Tirro tried another smile. ‘And I won’t have to be rich to get together a shipment of little things like oil lamps and glass beads.’
‘Well, there you go, then!’ Loddlaen saluted him with a slice of bread.
They’d nearly finished eating when a second uninvited guest showed up: Gwairyc. He strode into the pool of light from the fire and pointed a finger at Tirro.
‘You,’ Gwairyc said. ‘Have you been here the whole time?’
‘I have, truly.’ Tirro said.
‘Good, but now your master wants you. He says you’re to go back to camp. There’s packing to be done, lad.’
Without another word Tirro got up and followed, leaving the last of the bread and the basket both. Morwen waited for their footsteps to die away into the darkness before she spoke.
‘Poor Tirro! Gwairyc truly does treat him like a dog.’
‘Gwairyc treats everyone like a dog—well, except for Nevyn and my Da, of course,’ Loddlaen said. ‘What I wonder is why Tirro puts up with it.’
‘Tirro’s terrified of him.’
‘True spoken, but why?’ Loddlaen was silent for a long moment as he thought something through. ‘You know, I’d like to have a talk with Tirro before they go. Once he’s finished his work, his master shouldn’t mind. I’ll take this basket back for an excuse, like.’ He glanced into it. ‘You can have that honeycomb for Ebañy.’
‘He’ll enjoy that ever so much. But Loddlaen, about the dweomer, do you have to be born with it, or can you learn it?’
‘Both. You have to have the gift, but then you’ve got to study for years and years. It’s not some simple thing.’ He looked away, and for a moment he looked as sad as Tirro had earlier. ‘I’ve got the gift, but it’s a slender one. I keep trying to study, but I’ll never match my Da.’
‘You can’t be sure of that. He’s a fair bit older than you, isn’t he? So he’s years ahead. Besides, to have even a small touch of dweomer—oh, it seems so wonderful!’
‘Does it?’ All at once Loddlaen laughed aloud. ‘You know, for years I’ve been thinking of it as a burden, and here you are, all amazed! My thanks, Morri. You see things more clearly than I do, I think.’
‘Oh, I doubt that. I wish I had a gift for dweomer.’
‘But you must. You’re a Deverry woman but you see the Wildfolk. The only Roundears who can see them all have dweomer gifts.’
Morwen caught her breath, too stunned to speak.
‘Now, how much of one I couldn’t say,’ Loddlaen continued. You won’t know that till you start learning to use it.’ His voice fell to a bitter whisper. ‘They let you see the treasures, sometimes, then snatch them away.’
Morwen barely heard him. Her mind was galloping like a half-tamed horse towards the freedom of an open gate.
‘Do you truly think I could study dweomer?’ she said.
‘Why not? It’s the only way to find out how great a gift you have.’
‘I’m afraid to ask Nevyn or your da. They’ll think it’s presumptuous of a cripple like me, I’ll wager. Whenever I wanted anything, you know, it got snatched away from me, one way or another.’
‘Truly?’
‘Truly. I remember finding a copper in the marketplace when I was a little child, and how my brother took it from me. He pried my fingers open to get it, while my da just laughed. I