“It is forgotten—” He said those words as a warning.
“So be it.” I had had no decision to make after all. It had been made for me, days, seasons—long ago. We might be of one birth, of one face, but we were otherwise hardly kin. “I ask nothing of you, Elyn, save a horse. Since I do not propose to travel afoot—and that I think you owe me.”
His frown cleared a little. “Where do you go? Back to those of Wark?”
I shrugged but did not answer. If he wished to believe that, let him. I was still amazed at the chasm between us.
“You are wise.” Brunissende had crept to his side. “Men hereabouts still fear the Curse. That you have had dealings with that power seems fearsome to them.”
Elyn stirred. “She broke it for me. Never forget that, my lady.”
She answered nothing to that, only eyed me in such a way as I knew there could be no friendship between us.
“The day grows, I will ride.” I had no desire to prolong this viewing of something already buried in the past.
He gave me the best mount in his stable, ordered out also a pack horse and had it loaded with gear. I did not deny him this attempt to salve his conscience. All the time I saw the looks of his men who, seeing us so like together, must have longed for the mystery to be explained.
After I had mounted I looked down at him. I did not want to wish him ill. He lived by his nature, I mine. Instead I made a sign to summon fortune and blessing to him. And saw his mouth tighten as if he wanted it not.
So I rode from Coomb Frome, but at the gate another joined me. And I said:
“Have you learned where your lord now lies? Which way do you ride to return to his standard?”
“He is dead. The men of his following—those still living—enlisted under other banners. I am without a lord.”
“Then where do you go, swordsman?”
“I am without a lord, but I have found a lady. Your road is mine, mistress of powers.”
“Well enough. But which road and where?”
There is still a war, Lady. I have my sword and you yours. Let us seek where we can best harry the Hounds!”
I laughed. I had turned my back on Coomb Frome. I was free—for the first time I was free—of Aufrica’s governing, of the wretched survivors of Wark, of the spell of the dragon cup, which henceforth would be only a cup and not any lodestone to draw me into danger. Unless—I glanced at Jervon, but he was not looking at me, but eagerly at the road ahead—unless, I chose to make it otherwise. Which at some future day I might just do.