"I suppose I must. Can you entertain yourself here?"
"Don't mind an old, frail, friendless man. I'll manage."
Tess laughed at him and left. She found Bakhtiian leaning against the wall, staring down at the ruins and beyond them to the neck of the gorge. His form seemed merely an extension of the shadows.
"Ilya?" He didn't move. She put her elbows on that uncannily smooth wall and leaned out, staring down. The wall below stood like a purplish line against a darker background. "I'm sorry. I didn't think."
"No. The things you said were true enough. The khaja will not scruple to use bows against us, when we ride into their lands. And here… well, no man likes to be told something he already knows and doesn't want to hear."
She shifted her elbows to fit into two hollows that marred the level surface of the wall. "And not when he could already be trapped."
"Tess." He turned his head enough to see her. "You have a habit of choosing unfortunate words."
"What-oh, you mean 'trapped'?"
"Among others. I don't-" He reconsidered. "When you return to Jeds, you'll have to be more careful. In khaja lands, people veil their true opinions in a layer of false words."
"Oh, yes." Tess leaned her chin on her intertwined fingers and stared morosely out at the moonlit outlines of the vale. The white ruins looked like a litter of bones on the dark ground. "When I return to Jeds-" She contemplated this event, amazed at her own lack of eagerness. When she returned to Jeds, when she returned to Odys, to be trapped once again by her duty to Charles. She pushed the traitorous thought away. "Why did you agree to bring me along?"
"You're not going to admit that I was right all along?"
"You weren't."
"And you're not going to tell me that now we've been run into a trap worthy of the fire-keeper's daughter herself that you're sorry you came?" He was, she realized, laughing at her.
"No." She found she was blushing. "I'm glad I came," she said softly, looking up at a bright star that shone above the gorge, glittering in the cold air.
"Yes," he said, as if to himself. "Even for this short time." He blinked, as if he had just realized where he was, and moved his elbows to a different place on the wall. "Of course you would be glad. Yuri and-and Fedya, and the others."
"Yes. Yuri and Fedya and the others. It will be hard to board that ship."
"It is always hard to board ships."
"You haven't answered my question."
"No, I haven't. I should have known better than to try to avoid it. Ishii insisted, finally. I'll always wonder what you said to him.''
"But you're too polite to ask."
"That may be." He smiled. "I also admired your spirit."
"Now there's a very handsome way of telling me that I was a nuisance."
"You were. Jaran women are much better behaved."
"I don't believe that for an instant, Ilya." She laughed. "Are you telling me now that you're sorry I came?"
"Tess." In the silence she heard, far away, the low cry of an animal, followed by a slide of rock, distant and muted. "Tomorrow morning you'll see an army in that gorge."
"What do you mean?"
"They did pursue us. At least one hundred soldiers."
"Oh, God, Ilya. And I said-" He was staring down, his hair and body dark, blending into cliff and wall, his face and hands starkly contrasting with the darkness. "Can you forgive me? I can't believe I said-"
"Stop it, Tess."
She swallowed. "How long have you known?" she asked in something resembling a normal tone of voice.
"Last night I went back down the gorge."
"You might have been caught!"
"I doubt it. They have no more night wit than a crying infant."
"One hundred soldiers." She gazed down at the shadowed gorge. From the rocks came a bird's cry, deep and wailing, like an owl's hoot or a woman's mourning. "The khaja must hate the jaran more than I thought."
"This is their holy place as well. For us to be here no doubt defiles it in their eyes. And jaran have raided a town. Many towns. What did Keregin say? They are like us in that they seek revenge."
"And yet-" She turned her head to look at him. "Yet you rode through their lands and into-into this? Why?''
The dim illumination made his complexion ashen and bloodless except for the shaded hollows of his eyes. "It's a kind of madness," he said, as softly as the merest brush of wind.
"No," she said, equally quietly, because she felt impelled to reassure him. But she knew that to be the kind of man he was, doing what he meant to do, he had indeed to be infected with a kind of madness, a fire that would burn inward and outward until, in the end, he would be consumed and his people transformed on the anvil of change. "No, it's a kind of honor."
He turned his head slowly and met her eyes. "Do you think so?"
"Yes."
"Death should not be unwelcome to the honorable man."
Tess felt her insides tighten. She found it difficult to speak. ' 'You once told me you had no intention of dying in battle.'' He gazed at her, the two of them oblivious for that instant to all that surrounded them. Not me, she thought, I'm not going to get burnt in that fire. And then shook her head, disgusted at her own train of thought.
He shook himself as well and smiled, straightening his back. "Did I mention dying?" he asked, his tone light.
Tess attempted a laugh.
"I sent Josef up the back trail," he continued conversationally, "to discover if it can indeed take us out. The pilgrims can look at the site tonight. In the morning, if the trail is good, we'll ride out that way, though I'll have to leave four archers behind to cover our retreat.''
"Who will you leave?"
"Mikhal, Tadheus, Konstans-"
"I'm better than Konstans."
'' You're not included
"Who's the fourth?"
"l am."
"Of course," she said softly. "Where did you learn to shoot so well?"
"In Jeds. I know how to shoot to kill a man. May the gods forgive me."
"Why don't jaran men use bows and arrows in battle?"
"Arrows in battle. That's a grim thought." Below, at the neck of the gorge, there was a slight movement. Stillness, a flash of light hair. Bakhtiian began to speak again. "The plains are as wide as you can see, and there is space to run. There is nothing to defend, except your kin and your honor, and honor rests in facing your opponent in a land where you could just as well flee."
"In this land, between these walls, you'll be dead before you can reach the man you're trying to kill."
"Do you wonder at our enmity?"
"No. I don't wonder."
"Look. The pilgrims have gone down. Just as I suggested to them. A surprise, don't you agree?"
She looked down to the right, where a light moved among the ruins on the far side, against the slide, dipping up and down. They were looking for something.
"Good God." She felt blood drain from her face. What if the symbols on the wall were Chapalii, worn away by time-but they could not have been here that long-worn away by some inexplicable confrontation, then. She had seen, she had touched, their transmitter with her own hands. She had found a fragment of a metallurgy too sophisticated for Rhuian development. What if the transmitter wasn't a single anomaly set up in the last five years to prepare for this expedition? A whole cluster, perhaps dating from the first years after the League's discovery of the planet, or from immediately after Charles's ennobling and his receipt of the system. Set up to monitor him. And if he was disseminating the odd volume of Newton and Aristotle, what else might he be surreptitiously doing that violated his own interdiction order? What if the Chapalii had set up monitoring positions to incriminate him? It made sense.
She needed proof.
"I have to go," she said, staring down at the light. She took one step away.
"No." He stopped her with his voice alone. "Don't go. Please."