A Time of Exile. Katharine Kerr
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seen. My teacher studied with the other.’
‘But these Hordes – why? Why did they just destroy everything?’
‘I only wish I knew. No one does.’
‘Uh, you said somewhat about these Hordes taking heads. I, er, well, wonder, er, does anyone remember what they looked like, exactly?’
Nananna laughed, a bitter mutter under her breath.
‘They may not have been actual demons, but they weren’t your people, young Aderyn, so rest your heart about that. All the old tales agree that they only had three fingers on each hand, for one thing, and that their faces, especially round the jaws, were all swollen and deformed, for another. Now, when I was a lass I heard one of the elders talk about those deformed faces, and he said it looked to him like they were actually covered with scar tissue in some kind of ritual pattern, maybe with some charcoal powder added in, like, to make the scars more prominent. I’ve never heard of a Deverry man doing such a thing.’
‘And we all have five fingers, too. I can’t tell you how happy I am – for a moment I was sure that we were all somehow to blame.’
‘Indeed? Why? Your folk’s general nature?’
‘Well, that, too, but when I had my vision, I heard a voice telling me to go west. And it said, “make restitution”. So I thought, well, maybe we owed you somewhat.’
‘Eldidd men owe us a great deal, but not because of the Burning, not as far as I know, anyway.’ Nananna paused abruptly. ‘What’s all that noise out there?’
Aderyn heard urgent voices and footsteps. Just as Dallandra rose to go to look, Halaberiel pushed open the tent-flap.
‘Wise One, my apologies for disturbing you, but Namydd the merchant is here with talk of trouble.’
When Dallandra spoke in Elvish, Nananna made an impatient wave in her direction.
‘Aderyn has to understand this, too. Speak in his tongue. If you would, banadar, bring Namydd to me.’
In a few minutes Halaberiel returned with a paunchy greying man in the checked brigga and elaborate shirt of a merchant. He was obviously exhausted, his eyes dazed, his movements stiff as he bowed to Nananna.
‘My thanks for seeing me, Wise One,’ Namydd said. ‘I’ve brought you some gifts, just tokens of my respect, but my son is still unloading our horses. We’ve ridden night and day to reach you.’
‘Then sit down and rest. Dalla, fetch the poor man some mead. Banadar, stay with us. Now, what brings you here in such a hurry?’
‘Great trouble, O Wise One,’ Namydd said. ‘One of the northern lords, Dovyn of the Bear by name, is laying a formal claim to the lands by Loc Cyrtaer – the very place where we meet to trade every autumn.’
‘Oh, is he now?’ Halaberiel broke in. ‘And does he think he’s going to cut the trees on our death-ground, too?’
‘I know these lands are sacred to your people.’ Namydd paused to take a wooden bowl of mead from Dallandra. ‘The merchant guild of Aberwyn is totally on your side. We tried to intervene with the prince, but all he’d say is that you’ll have to come to his court and file a legal counterclaim.’
When Halaberiel swore in Elvish, Nananna scowled him into silence.
‘Then we shall do just that,’ Nananna said. ‘I’m sure the prince will agree when he sees the justice of the thing. Now here, Namydd, has this lord chosen the death-ground?’
‘Land that’s very close, but I think – I hope and pray – that the prince will listen to reason about such a sacred thing. Now, the guild sent me here with offers of aid. Your people can shelter with us if you come to Aberwyn. We have a man trained in our laws to act as your counsel – all at our expense, of course.’
‘My thanks,’ Nananna said with one of her wry smiles. ‘I forget sometimes how rich trading with us has made you.’
Namydd winced.
‘Well, so it has. The Wise One is wise enough to know that when a man’s self-interest is at stake, he’s most trustworthy. If the banadar agrees, I think he’d be the best one to ride to Aberwyn. Our people have a great respect for those of high standing.’
‘So they do,’ Aderyn put in. ‘And even greater respect for those of royal blood. Hal, you wouldn’t happen to be descended from the kings of the seven cities, would you?’ He glanced at Nananna. ‘There were seven, didn’t you say?’
‘There were.’ Halaberiel forgot himself enough to interrupt the Wise One. ‘Ye gods, you must have a grand sort of magic if you could see that in me! For what it’s worth, I am indeed – a pitiful sort of inheritance, but mine.’
‘Then if you’ll listen to my humble counsel, I think you’d best travel as a prince – in the fullest sense of the word.’
Halaberiel looked briefly puzzled, then grinned.
‘It might be amusing to try a bit of the pomp and mincing that pleases the Blue Eyes,’ Halaberiel said. ‘What does the Wise One think?’
‘Oh, I agree. Banadar? Take poor Namydd to your tent so he can get some sleep. Then return to me so we can plan things out. Namydd, you and your guild have my deep and heartfelt thanks.’
Namydd bowed, nearly fell from weariness, then let Halaberiel lead him away. Once they were gone, Nananna turned to Aderyn.
‘Will you ride with the banadar?’ Nananna said. ‘I’d be grateful if you would. I can give you a scrying stone so you can send me news, and I think it would be wise to have a man who understands the Light along on this little matter.’
‘Gladly, Wise One.’
‘But let me give you a warning. You can never truly desert your own kind, no matter how much loyalty you give to us. You must be scrupulously fair, not partisan. Do you understand? If the Lords of Light had wanted you to be an elf, you would have been born in an elven body.’
‘I do understand that, O Wise One, and I’ll think well about what you say.’
Almost against his will, Aderyn glanced at Dallandra. Her storm-grey eyes were distant, cool, judging him, as if she were wondering if he could truly live up to his fine words. Aderyn vowed to do the best he could, and all for her sake.
By morning, the news was all over the camp. Young men and women hefted weapons and swore bloody vengeance if the Round-ears so much as touched the death-ground. The older members of the group flocked round Halaberiel and offered advice, warnings, and general opinions. Every man or woman who owned horses had a right to speak out about such an important matter, but finally, by nightfall, they reached a decision. The camp went through its material goods and donated twenty-one matched golden horses, twenty-one fancy saddles and bridles, a heap of new clothes and all the jewellery they owned to make Prince Halaberiel and his escort look as rich as the Dragon Throne itself. Halaberiel himself owned a gem that impressed even Aderyn, an enormous sapphire as blue as the winter sea, set in a pendant of reddish gold, some three inches across and ornamented with golden roses in bas-relief. When the warband saw him wearing it, they fell silent; Jezryaladar even held up his hands and nodded to the pendant in a sign of respect.
‘It belonged to my grandfather, Ranadar of the High Mountain,’ Halaberiel said to Aderyn. ‘For all the good it ever did him.’
As a last touch, Aderyn took the warband aside and instructed them in the courtesies that a Round-ear warband would show a man of royal blood. Finally they chose some packhorses – duns and roans, these –and a couple of young men to come along and pretend to be servants. Since Aderyn himself would be the prince’s counsellor, he too got fancy clothes but a silvery-grey horse to ride.
On his last night in camp, Aderyn and Dallandra wrapped themselves in heavy cloaks and walked a little way away through the silent grasslands. The night was clear, streaked with moonlight, and so cold that their