"I don't understand you, Galen."
Galen's eyes fixed on Lenardo's. "I know, Magister Lenardo," he said sadly. "I know."
Now, two years later, Lenardo still felt the same frustrated guilt. He found it strangely easy to say Galen's words publicly, even though he did not believe them. At his own brief trial, he insisted that the last savage attack on Adigia, using the force of an earthquake, had convinced him that the empire had no hope of surviving against such power. He then presented Galen's argument-that the empire should seek peace with the savages by offering Readers' abilities-as if it were his own.
For a moment, as he awaited sentencing, Lenardo wondered how much the non-Reader tribunal knew. Had they got wind of the fact that the last Reader they had exiled was now working for the enemy? Would the sentence be not exile but death? In horror, he discovered that some small part of him hoped it would be.
No. 1 must correct my mistake. How often had he made his students do their work over, insisting, "Mistakes are meant to be learned from." So now he must try again to persuade Galen. He stood firm as the sentence of exile was pronounced.
To be sure the the empire's exiles could not return under assumed identity, each one was branded on the right arm with the head of a dragon, symbol of the mindless power of the savages. As Lenardo, dressed in sturdy traveling garments, was led to the gates of Adigia, he couldn't help shuddering at the sight of the brazier, the iron already heating in the glowing coals.
He remembered when Galen was branded. Out of some strange mixture of expiation for himself and reassurance for the boy, he had meant to Read the pain with him. No Reader could shut out that kind of pain entirely-every Reader in Adigia suffered when someone in town felt agony, except the very young boys who could not yet Read beyond the confines of the academy. But Lenardo had intended to make no effort to close Galen out.
Deliberately he turned his mind from the thought as he approached the north gate of Adigia on his own day of exile. Torio and Master Clement walked on either side of him, dressed all in black-symbol of his death to them. In the gathered crowd were many familiar faces, a few students, townspeople, soldiers. He saw Linus with his wife and son. If-when-he found Galen, he would give him the good news that in two years the man whose life they had saved had recovered, enough to work, to play, to enjoy life. He still spoke haltingly and walked with a slight limp, but he was alive and grateful to be so.
Lenardo Read great confusion from the crowd-a Master Reader exiled? Many of them wondered why the government would not heed the words of so wise a man. // they only understood that Reading does not automatically confer wisdom! he thought bitterly.
Others were scornful, though. A number of times he half-heard, half-Read someone say, "The savages will show him. They know what to do with an exiled Reader!"
The soldiers waiting to perform the Acts of Exile were men he had known for years, non-Readers he had fought beside many a time before his skills had reached the level at which he could retire to the keep to direct the troops. Now one of the men gazed at him with contempt, but the Other, a grizzled old warrior with a scar down his cheek, had tears in his eyes. "Ye were ever a good man, Master," he said gruffly. "I dinna understand. Ye guided us against the enemy not two weeks ago, and now they say ye be a traitor."
"The emperor thinks my beliefs dangerous," Lenardo replied neutrally.
"Aye, and it not be dangerous to leave Adigia wi'out ye? Ah, Master, may the gods bless and protect ye. Here." He pulled at a chain about his neck, drawing an amulet from under his tunic. "I took this off one o' them savages in my first battle. Tis said to be a powerful protection, Master, from one o' their gods. And indeed, with all the battles I've been through, here I am, alive and healthy."
"I cannot take your protection, Quintus," Lenardo protested.
"Nay, lad-I am old. If I die in battle, that will please me better than living to weaken with age. You are young and going into danger."
"Why do you want to protect a traitor?" snapped the other soldier.
"I dinna believe he be a traitor," replied the old man, putting the chain around Lenardo's neck.
Lenardo looked at the amulet for a moment-a wolfs head carved from alabaster, the eyes a natural vein of violet just deep enough beneath the surface to show where the eyes were carved out. The stone was warm from the old soldier's body. Lenardo realized that his hands were very cold.
As the crowd gathered to watch, Lenardo's arm was strapped into the brace that would hold it for branding. Remembered shame rang through him: when Galen was branded, Lenardo had not been able to stand it. When the iron touched the boy's skin, the pain was so unendurable that he had had to stop Reading, enduring only what he could not block out. Trapped in his own body, Galen had had no escape from agony.
But I have.
Lenardo watched in hypnotic fascination as the brand was prepared. As it approached, Torio and Master Clement supported his body. He relaxed against them, leaving his body, floating above, Reading the scene until the iron was taken away and Master Clement began to cover the wound with an ointment to ease the pain.
Sliding back into his body, feeling Torio's arms supporting him, Lenardo moaned as incredible pain shot up into his shoulder and down into his hand from the burn. It was as if the red-hot iron were burning into him right now!
Both the other Readers gasped with Lenardo's pain. The ointment did nothing to stop it. He was nauseated by the smell of burning flesh-his own flesh. A moan escaped him as he stared at the brand, the dragon's head, not a quarter the size of the back of his hand, but burned deep into his forearm forever.
The ointment glistening on the red wound did not disguise the burn's depth. He had not looked at Galen's brand, never realized that it bit deep into the muscle under the skin. He would wear the mark of the traitor for the rest of his life.
Finally the pain let up enough that he could perceive there was a world around him, people staring, Torio and Master Clement waiting to escort him to the gate. Quintus unstrapped his arm, saying, "I ne'er did a sadder day's work. The gods protect ye, Master."
Silently, Lenardo walked to the gate between his teacher and his student. Master Clement said softly, "My hopes go with you, Lenardo. I know you will do all you can to stop Galen. Shall I Read for you?"
"Nay, Master, that would be too dangerous-and within a day or two, long before I could hope to discover anything, I shall be out of range. But think of me."
"You know we do!" Torio groped blindly, found Lenardo's shoulders, hugged him. Alone of all Readers, Torio had no aversion to touching because he had "seen" with his hands the first seven years of his life. The contact was not offensive. Lenardo held the boy warmly for a moment as Torio whispered fiercely, "Come back to us! The empire needs you, Master Lenardo. The academy needs you."
"Take my place, Torio. I will return if I can-but you must prepare yourself as if there were no hope at all. Promise me."
"Yes, Master," whispered Torio, but as he pulled away he added, "but you will come back-you mustl"
Chapter Two
The White Wolf
Lenardo walked a familiar road out of Adigia, for in his boyhood the border had been far distant, and this land had been part of the Aventine Empire. Now it was a no-man's-land between the walls of the empire and the lands the savages had taken. They built no walls to hold their borders; rather they pressed and pressed against the walls of the empire, driving ever farther toward the sea. Lenardo's family had fled southward along this very road, before the retreating army, when the savages had taken the city of Zendi.