In a few stiff sentences, while the Termigan stared at her as if she were lice-ridden, she told him what Master Quillon had told her about King Joyse’s reasons.
The lord surged to his feet; almost before she was done, he snapped, “Is that all? He turned his back on us, left his realm to rot, let Imagers do whatever they wanted to his people – just so Mordant would be attacked, instead of Alend or Cadwal?”
His passion stopped Terisa’s voice. She nodded dumbly.
Without warning, the Termigan let out a snarl of laughter. Candlelight reflected in his eyes like an echo of lava. “Brilliant. Destroy your friends to save your enemies. Completely brilliant.”
“He needs the help anyway, my lord,” murmured Geraden. “No matter how slim it is, the possibility that he knows what he’s doing is the only hope we have left. You might be able to do him some good by striking against Esmerel.”
For a moment, the lord remained motionless, holding himself as though a gale were gathering inside him. Then, abruptly, he lifted his fists and roared, “No!
“He decided to sacrifice Sternwall without consulting me! Let him pay for the rest of his reasons himself!”
When he left the room, he slammed the door so hard that splinters jumped from the latch and one of the crossmembers cracked.
Geraden looked at Terisa with trouble in his eyes. “Well,” he said finally, “at least I haven’t lost my talent for mishap.”
She went to him and hugged him. “Wait and see,” she muttered dryly. “If he doesn’t tie us up and throw us in the lava, you got more out of him than I did.”
That enabled him to chuckle a little. “Do you mean,” he asked, “that if we simply survive this experience I’m supposed to consider it a success?”
“Wait and see,” she repeated. She didn’t know what else to offer him.
They waited.
Eventually, a servant brought them hot water, so Geraden braced a chair against the door, and they bathed each other. They drank the wine and ate the food; they took advantage of the bed. They even got some sleep.
The next morning, they answered a knock at their door, and another servant came into the room carrying their breakfast.
A soldier visited them as well. Brusquely, as if he had no time for this, he asked Terisa and Geraden what they needed for their journey.
They were surprised – but not so surprised that Geraden couldn’t think of a list. After all, the Termigan had a reputation for fidelity. He may have hated Imagers and lost confidence in his King, but apparently he couldn’t forget his lifelong loyalties. To the Domne, for instance. And Geraden and Terisa had lost their horses and supplies outside Sternwall; they needed anything the lord was willing to give them. So Geraden talked to the soldier for several minutes; and by the time he and Terisa had finished their breakfast the man returned to report that their new horses and fresh supplies were ready to go.
In fact, the Termigan sent them on their way better equipped than they had been when they entered his Care. In addition to the horses, he gave them plenty of food, full wineskins, cooking utensils, a short sword for each of them, and bedding that seemed luxurious compared to the thin blankets with which they had left Houseldon. He even provided a rough map which showed a direct route across country toward the Care of Fayle and Romish.
But he didn’t do anything to help King Joyse.
THIRTY-SIX: GATHERING SUPPORT
According to the map, Romish was situated near the southeast point of the Care of Fayle, where the border between Fayle and Armigite met the border between Termigan and Fayle.
Terisa and Geraden wanted to hurry. From one perspective, the attack on Sternwall was a good sign: it implied that Master Eremis was still waiting for his plans to mature, still vulnerable. In every other way, however, the Termigan’s plight was cause for alarm. So far, Houseldon had been burned down; Sternwall was falling into a pit of fire. The Armigite had made an agreement with Prince Kragen. The Perdon was alone against all of High King Festten’s power. What came next? If this process continued much longer, Mordant would soon have nothing left to save.
Terisa and Geraden had reason to hurry.
Unfortunately, the terrain didn’t let them.
They made good progress for a day after they left Sternwall, but that was only because they were able to remain on the road which led eventually to the Demesne and Orison. The second day, their route required them to angle away from the road, heading more to the north as the road shifted east. And this part of Termigan was the roughest land she had yet seen in Mordant.
“Now if this were Armigite—” Geraden panted as he tugged his horse, a rangy gray with a head like a mallet, up an interminable hillside that was too flinty and steep for safe riding. “Armigite in spring is worth seeing. The soil is so sweet they say you only have to wave a few squash seeds at the ground and you’ll be up to your hips in vines. The early hay should be just coming up – it smells so fresh you want to take up dancing. And the women—” He glanced at Terisa and grinned. “All that rich soil and relaxed countryside makes their work so easy they really don’t have anything better to do than sit around and become gorgeous.”
Terisa snorted softly. At the moment, she would have been delighted to be in Armigite. Let the women there become as gorgeous as they pleased. As far as she was concerned, the only thing worse than riding a horse was trying to haul it by main force up a hill it didn’t want to climb, when her knee still pained her. Generally, she was willing to put up with the mount the Termigan had provided for her – a roan gelding with a decent gait and no malice. In the present circumstances, however, she would cheerfully have dropped the beast into one of Eremis’ fiery pits.
Nevertheless she didn’t suggest that she and Geraden forget about the Fayle; that they return to the road and head straight for Orison. The Fayle was the only lord left whom they might bring to the King’s support.
And Queen Madin lived in Fayle, in Romish. Myste had mentioned a manor just outside Romish.
Terisa felt a strong, if rather irrational, conviction that Queen Madin had a right to know what her husband was doing. Otherwise the Queen might go to her grave believing that King Joyse had lost his interest in life, his commitment to Mordant; his love for her.
It was typical of Terisa’s mood – her soul shocked by Sternwall’s danger, her thoughts troubled by the ramifications of what Master Eremis was doing, and yet her heart full of Geraden – that she considered Queen Madin’s feelings at least as important as King Joyse’s need for help.
So she wrestled her roan up the hillsides, rode it gingerly down the gullies, and trotted it inexpertly across the flats, not precisely without complaint, but without significant self-pity.
The Care of Termigan, as Geraden explained, wasn’t heavily populated. And most of the towns and villages were spread out along the Broadwine River, away from the Pestil and Alend. After the second day, the two riders seemed alone in the stringent landscape.
Terisa began to think that Termigan had already lost everything it had ever contained worth fighting for.
For three days, dark clouds locked the sky, threatening rain. Water and mud would have perfected the pleasure of her journey; nevertheless she wished for rain. Orison could always use water. And mud would make the movements of armies more difficult.
Despite the fierce way they glowered down at the earth, however, the clouds were only able to spit a few brief sprinkles before they blew away. The weather itself seemed to have Master Eremis’ best interests at heart.
On the other hand, as the clouds drifted off, the terrain improved, as if sunlight had an ameliorating effect on the slopes and soil. Trees became more common: soon the errant and bedraggled copses of the rest of Termigan began to accumulate into long stands of elder and sycamore, ash and wattle. “We’re getting closer,” commented Geraden. “Fayle is known for its wood.