“That’s enough!” Keisha interrupted, stopping him. “Hywel will do.”
“So, Hywel, why have your people fortified their camp?” Darian asked, keeping his stern expression. “We offered to treat with your people, but they are rejecting our offers with apparent hostility.”
“Because we are not fools!” the youngster retorted. “You threaten us, you come upon us with magic and warriors. Are we to simply lie down and allow you to slaughter us? Why are you so hostile to us? We had heard that the peoples of the south were hospitable and welcomed strangers!”
“You mean ’soft,’ don’t you?” Darian asked cynically, and the young man flushed, then paled. “Well, you’ve found out differently. We’ve seen your kind; we know what to expect from you. Four years ago, one of your clan war parties came down here, looting and killing, making slaves and worse out of my folk, ruining what they didn’t steal! Why shouldn’t we meet you with fighters and magic? We should have met you with fire and the sword for what you did the last time!”
He started to warm to his subject, but the young man interrupted him, with a curious look on his face. “Why do you say it was my people who did this to yours?”
“You’re from the north,” Darian replied stubbornly, anger burning in the pit of his stomach. “You look the same, barring a few decorations.”
“There are many Clans and tribes in the north, and most of them look the same to an outsider,” Hywel retorted, eyes flashing. “Nevertheless, they are not all the same. My people have done nothing to yours. It was not my people who put yours to the sword. My people,” he added proudly, “do not trade in, keep, or make slaves. Our fighters do not make up war parties to loot the wealth of others. I do not know which of the marauding tribes brought harm to you, but we are not them.”
That simple statement brought Darian to a halt; it had never occurred to him that the tribes of the north could be as different as, say, Valdemar and Karse.
“My Clan is Ghost Cat,” Hywel continued, with such pride that Darian was surprised. “And we are very like our totem. We are solitary hunters, we have our own herds. Our fighters are not thieves - they serve and protect the Clan from those who would steal our wealth. We prefer being unseen, like the Cat. None fight more bravely when we must,” he continued with bravado, “But we do not seek conflict. We walk by ourselves, seek our own path, and all places are alike to us.” He tilted his head to one side, looking at Darian curiously. “What totem did your enemies follow?”
“A bear,” Darian replied, wondering how much of Hy-wel’s speech to believe. “And the shaman bore the sign of the eclipse.”
Hywel’s eyes nearly popped with surprise. “And you drove them off? Indeed, you are either lucky beyond belief or god-touched! That is Blood Bear, and they live for battle; when they can find no enemy, they fight among themselves! Most Clans avoid them at all cost; they have even violated Midsummer Truce in one of their rages!” He dropped his voice to a whisper and looked anxiously from side to side. “Some of their warriors gained the aspect of the Great Bear itself, by venturing into the Forbidden Places with their shaman. This I know, for I saw some of the Bear Warriors, when I was still at the women’s fire. It is said that they are the ones who brought the Summer Fever out of the Forbidden Places, which they dared to enter in their madness and their search for further unnatural powers and monstrous servants.”
That seemed to clinch it; the entire speech rang of the truth, for Darian hadn’t mentioned the half-bear warriors, or the lizardlike creature that had served as one of the leaders. Further, the youngster could not possibly know that they knew about Summer Fever and how it began. That brought Darian to a momentary standstill, at a loss for what to ask next, his anger running out of him.
Keisha, however, was fully prepared to take over.
“What brought you out here in the darkness?” she asked sternly. “Why were you skulking about like one who would do ill? Were you planning to steal from us?”
“No!” Hywel said indignantly. “We are Ghost Cat, not thieves! I would not soil my honor by theft!”
“But if your people had closed themselves into their camp, why were you outside the walls, and at night?” Keisha persisted. “Did you mean to spy upon us?”
He stared at her, stubbornly, but with fear at the back of his eyes.
“I can, and will, take the knowledge from you,” she threatened. “Do you give it to me freely, or would you care to have your pain redoubled and have me gain it regardless?”
He closed his eyes, and whispered miserably, “For my brother. I came for my brother. He has the Summer Fever, and I prayed to our gods to send me a sign, to send me a guide to find one of the Wise Ones who can cure all ills. The fever has taken two of my brothers already, and I think to lose Jendey would kill our mother. I prayed and fasted, and tonight, the Ghost Cat that has led us for so long appeared to me, and led me - here - ”
Darian felt chill mixed with awe - for there had been that strange, ghostly shape leading the boy, and it had vanished utterly just before they caught him.
And what if this is the handof their god, leading him to us because of Keisha ?
He exchanged glances with Keisha, and she changed to Valdemaran. “This is a little too spooky,” she said, shaken. “I saw him following - something. Kuari saw it, too, didn’t he?”
“I know. I guess you saw what I saw?” At her nod, he shivered. “Now what?”
“If a bout of fever has started in the camp, the odds are that it’s going to cross over to us,” she replied. “But - this might be what I was hoping for. Earlier today I suggested to the Healers that if we could get a single victim outside the camp, we might be able to find a treatment without being under threat ourselves.” She shrugged. “What do you say about letting him bring his brother out, and letting me take a chance with him? I wouldn’t be in their power, and he wouldn’t dare hurt me, not after what we’ve done to him.”
“We could just go back and let the Healers make sure we haven’t caught it - ” But that would be throwing this gift back in the face of the god, who clearly intended that he and Keisha should do something. He didn’t think that would be a very politic move at this point.
“Besides,” Keisha continued, with a grimace, “There’re two more things going for this idea. First of all, this is a child we’re talking about; not even Lord Breon would object to helping a child. Secondly, we obviously have to decide right now, and we can’t afford to wait around to ask for permission. Hywel isn’t going to have a lot of time to sneak in, get his brother, and sneak back out again - and this may well be the last time he can get out.” The grimace turned into a crooked smile. “It’s easier to beg forgiveness than get permission, so I think we ought to figure on begging forgiveness.”
“You’re sure you want to go through with this?” Darian asked dubiously, trying to think of good reasons to veto the notion, but fairly sure that anything he could think of, she’d have a counter for.
She sighed. “I don’t want to, but I have to. I can’t explain it any other way, except to say that this is something that I have responsibility to handle. I was given the Healer’s Gift; it’s my duty to use it.”