The White Road - Lynn Flewelling [93]
"I think he just insulted both of us," Micum muttered.
"This Tir is my friend," Alec shot back. "And this Aurenfaie is my talimenios. If you're so superior, why are you afraid to show me your face? Where's your honor?"
The tall man didn't take off the wolf mask, but he pushed back his hood. His long dark hair was streaked with grey.
"How do you know my mother's name?" Alec demanded.
"I knew your mother well, before she betrayed her people," Wolf Face told him.
"Are you the ones who hunted her down?"
"Her own kin took care of that. I hunted your father, and you. It seems to be my destiny. And now I hunt your tayan'gil."
"Tayan'gil?"
"That little one."
Seregil had heard something like that before. Tayan was a word the old grandmothers sometimes used. It meant "white" or "silver"--he couldn't remember which. And gil? He knew that one as well as he did his own name; it meant "blood." White blood? Silver blood?
The leader pointed to Sebrahn. "The Tir magic can't hide him from us. But you must realize that, now that it's wearing off."
There was no running now, and even if they could, it would mean leaving Micum behind. That pretty much narrowed their options down to one.
He held up his free hand, hoping Alec wouldn't shoot him next. "If we give you the tayan'gil, will you let us go?"
He could tell from the corner of his eye that Alec had turned to him, and for once he was thankful he couldn't see the expression on his tali's face.
Wolf Face didn't answer, just waved a hand to someone Seregil couldn't see through the snow. The strange sound was very loud this time. It was like hornets buzzing and an owl's hoot combined.
"Oh shit!" Seregil mumbled as his stomach turned over and the world went sideways ...
Alec woke suddenly, aware first of a stinging pain on his left cheek and the fact that his hands were bound.
Oh, not again!
He opened his eyes to find the man in the wolf mask on one knee in front of him. He had his hand raised to slap Alec again, but stopped when he saw that his eyes were open.
Night had fallen, but someone stood to one side, holding a torch. Below the mask the man who'd struck Alec had a long face, with deep lines on either side of a thin, unfriendly mouth. The hank of dark hair hanging over one shoulder beneath a blue-and-white-striped sen'gai was streaked with iron grey. His wolfskin coat and pants were grimy, and his boots were worn.
Hazadrielfaie? Alec took all that in at a glance, and next that he was propped against a stone wall, with his feet bound as well; a short length of rope secured them to his hands so he couldn't get up. From what little he could see past the man, they were in the remains of a round stone hut. It was still snowing a little, and it was cold. He could see his breath and the other man's freezing on the air and feel it seeping up through his clothing.
His tongue and throat felt a little numb as he rasped out, "Where are my friends?"
The man moved aside enough for him to see Seregil and Micum trussed up the same way against the far wall. Neither was awake.
"Are they--"
"They are alive. For the moment."
He looked around again as his head cleared. "Where is Sebrahn?"
The man cocked his head slightly, making him look more wolf-like. "Sebrahn?"
"The--" He searched his muddled brain for the word the man had used. "My tayan'gil."
It was impossible to read the man's eyes through the slotted openings, but he sounded surprisingly nonthreatening when he replied, "You named him well. Sebrahn is safe. How did you change his appearance like that?"
"I want to see him."
Alec had judged him too soon. The man slapped him again and Alec tasted blood on his lower lip. "You are in no position to make demands, ya'shel. What magic was used?"
"Oreska."
"Never heard of it. What name do you have?"
Alec glared at him.
The man's thin lips curled in a way that made Alec distinctly uncomfortable as he drew a very large knife from his boot. Instead of threatening Alec, however, he went to Seregil and pressed the edge of it against