“Hardly,” said Seraph. “I just pointed out that the merchant he chose to do business with was a thief and a killer—and that any other solsenti he’d find to pay for the same sort of favor will probably be equally bad.”
The old woman cackled, “I never thought of that.”
“It won’t stop him,” said Seraph. “He’s obviously done similar things before; he’ll do them again.”
“Most of them weren’t this bad,” said Brewydd. “Though making certain that a village was dry a month or more in high summer, then forcing them to pay him to bring the rain is no noble deed.”
“No,” agreed Hennea dryly.
“Talk to him at this meeting tonight,” Brewydd told Seraph. “Make him understand what he does is folly.”
“What good will talking do?” asked Lehr. “Haven’t you told him what he’s been doing is wrong? Why would he listen to Mother when he won’t listen to you?”
“Hah!” exclaimed Brewydd. “A man would rather listen to a beautiful woman than a wrinkled old crone. You, boy,” she said pointing at Lehr. “You can help an old woman to her home.”
Lehr took a deep breath, tightened his jaw, and nodded his head. When he took her arm, Brewydd patted his biceps lightly before using him to lever herself up. “Your mother teaches you well, boy. It is good when a youngling is kind to old women.” She winked at Seraph and continued to mutter at Lehr as he led her back to her wagon.
“Right,” said Seraph, hoping Brewydd could do better for Lehr than she’d managed. “Let’s go find Benroln.”
“Seraph,” said Hennea, “if you go and start attacking Benroln for what he’s done, you’ll make Lehr happy and we’ll all go our separate ways tomorrow. Benroln will still take gold from the next solsenti who wants to pay to have his neighbor’s fields destroyed, and you’ll have the satisfaction of telling them what you think of them.”
“You have another suggestion?” said Seraph.
“The Secret Path is very powerful,” said Hennea. “They claim that they run the Empire, and that might very well be true. Having more people to call on for help could be very useful.”
“I’ve thought of that,” said Seraph. “But—Hennea, I am not a Bard. Yelling I can do, but persuasion is another matter entirely. Would you try?”
She shook her head. “To Benroln and his people, you are our leader. To have me speak to them would be an insult. You can do this. Just remember that Benroln is frustrated because there’s nothing he can do to keep his people safe. Give him something to do other than rob the solsenti of their gold, some way to strike back, and he’ll forget about the games.”
Isfain was angry with Hennea, Seraph observed as she sipped her hot tea. But Hennea had told her the state she’d found Jes in, and Seraph didn’t mind seeing him grit his teeth when Hennea got too close. What chance had given Hennea the knowledge of loosing the foundrael, Seraph didn’t know, but she was grateful for it all the same.
Hennea had certainly impressed a few people with her freeing of Jes. The whole Rongier clan, at least those present at the small gathering in front of Benroln’s tent, were treating Hennea as if she’d grown a third head.
Or maybe Hennea was just sitting too close to Jes.
Jes had no intention of forgiving anyone for imprisoning him. He lurked in a wolfish form only half-revealed by the flickering light of the bonfire. It might have been easier if he’d chosen to be wolf in whole, but the wolf’s muzzle and eyes in an otherwise human body was particularly disturbing. Low growls told everyone that he was unhappy with them all. Seraph rather thought the shape was an illusion, but it was difficult to tell.
Brewydd had brought Lehr with her. He looked tired, but the sickness had faded from his eyes. When the old woman griped at him and ordered him to move her camp chair three times before she sat in it, he actually grinned.
Benroln came out of his tent at last, and looked around to see that everyone was there. He sat down directly opposite Seraph and nodded his head at her: so the meeting would begin with her comments.
Unhappy people, all, she thought, glancing around at the faces of the clan.
“We could spend the night throwing accusations and debating ancient history,” said Seraph. “If you were not honest with what you wanted of us, well then, we were not entirely honest either.”
“I’d like to rage at you, and tell you how wrong what you’ve been doing is, but you already know what I think.” She took a deep breath. “So I’m going to tell you the things that we didn’t tell you when you invited us to journey with you to Taela. It will take a while, and I am no Bard. I ask for your patience just the same.”
“I am Seraph, Raven of Isolda the Silent and wife to Tieragan of Redern, Owl in his own right, though he has not a drop of Traveler blood…”
By the time she brought them into the present she was hoarse. Benroln refilled her cup and urged it upon her solicitously—as if they had not just fought a battle over a farmer’s field.
As clan leader, it was his place to respond, so everyone sat silently while he considered her story.
“This Path,” he said, “they have been taking our people for years and stealing their Orders?”
Seraph nodded.
“You have some of the stones?” asked Brewydd.
Seraph had thought the old Healer was asleep.
“Yes.”
“I’d like to see them,” Brewydd murmured. “Bring them here when we are done and we’ll sit in the Librarian’s home, you and I, Hennea and Benroln, and see just what evil the solsenti have wrought.”
“All right,” Seraph said and then changed the subject. “Tomorrow, my family and I will continue on to Taela where my husband is being kept.”
“You say your husband is Ordered,” said Isfain. “But he is a solsenti?”
“That’s right.”
“Could this Secret Path you told us about be the reason that the solsenti laws have become so stringent against us?” asked Kors.
Seraph thought that they could look to themselves and to other clans who had gone after gold rather than fighting evil for the cause of the antipathy solsenti had toward Travelers, but she wasn’t such a fool as to say so.
Benroln, unaware of Seraph’s thoughts, nodded intently. “It could be. If what we have heard tonight is true, this Path could be very powerful.” He nodded his head once more. “Then this is what we will do. Isfain, send out messages to the other clans we know of and warn them of this Path and their methods. See to it that they in turn pass the message on.” He waited until Isfain nodded. “Tomorrow we also strike out at speed for Taela.”
He turned to Seraph. “There are things that we can do to help. We have friends in Taela.”
Seraph looked at his eager face. “I would be very grateful for any help you can give,” she said.
Seraph was exhausted, but she found herself as unable to say no to the old Healer as everyone else was. Besides, she wanted to know what the Healer could tell her about the rings. So it was that she found herself inside the house of Rongier the Librarian with Hennea, Benroln, and Brewydd.
Rongier’s home had been larger and more prosperous than Isolda’s. His library had a table large enough to seat eight or ten people.
Seraph took the seat next to Brewydd and dumped the bag of rings on the table.
Brewydd hesitated and lightly fingered each ring before settling on an old ring set with a stone of rose quartz.
“Well,” she murmured, “how did they do that then? You told me that they took the Orders and bound them to a ring.”
“Right,” said Seraph. “That’s what Hennea said, and that’s what seems to have happened.”
“Indeed.” Brewydd put the ring down and pushed it away from her. Her hand was shaking a little. “So that’s one of the reasons,” she murmured.