"I roused every spider in the valley and surrounding hills and set them on Sauk and his men. They'll live, though I doubt they'll feel much like chasing us for a few days. Still… Sauk is not one to underestimate. I want to be well into the mountains by dark tomorrow."
"You do know him, then?"
"I told you we'd speak of this later."
"We'll be on the run at first light," said Lewan. "Why not talk now?"
Berun looked up from his work and scowled, obviously displeased at Lewan's impudence. "What do you want to know?" "You do know the half-orc?" "Did."
"You are Kheil, then?" said Lewan. "Sauk spoke truly? You're a… a killer? A murderer for hire?"
Berun put the stopper back into the vial and wiped his fingers on his shirr. He stuck his chin out and was breathing heavily through his nose. Lewan knew his master well enough to recognize that Berun was upset. Pensive. Usually when this mood hit, it was wise to leave and let Berun brood on his own. But not now.
"Is it true, master?"
Berun sighed and began wrapping Lewan's arm in a bandage. "Not anymore," he said. "Years before Chereth and I found you, before you came to live with me, I… I was… reborn."
"Reborn?"
"In my past life, the man I used to be-Kheil-was a killer, a murderer. Kheil served Alaodin, the Old Man of the Mountain who dwells in his fortress on the side of Sentinelspire. Four years before I met you, Kheil was sent to kill an old druid in the Yuirwood."
"Chereth?" said Lewan. "Your master?"
"Yes. Kheil led Sauk and a dozen assassins into the Yuirwood. Why? Didn't much matter. They were there to do a job.
But… the job did them." Berun finished wrapping the arm and tied the bandage. "How's that?" "Tight."
"Good. It'll loosen as we're on the move. Now, let's get you into some dry clothes so you can warm up."
Lewan unhooked the clasp of his cloak and shrugged it off. "What do you mean, 'the job did them?' "
As Lewan got out of his wet clothes and put on dry ones, Berun told his tale. He spoke in a lifeless tone, without detail, of how the Masters of the Yuirwood had killed Kheil upon the Tree of Dhaerow, how Chereth had used Erael'len, calling upon the Oak Father, and raised Kheil to life. The old druid had named him Berun, which meant "hope" in the tongue of Aglarond.
"Why…?" Lewan struggled to find the words. "Why have you never told me this before?"
Berun looked down, and in the dim light cast by their star-stones, his face was hidden in shadow. "I am Berun now. Kheil is dead. Best to let the dead rest. Kheil's life is in the past."
Lewan watched as his master wrapped all of his wet clothes into a tight bundle, tying them with a cord from their supplies. The shirt was probably a loss, but they could use the scraps for other purposes.
"Kheil's past just came hunting us," said Lewan. "Something tells me that half-orc won't give up so easily. What do we do now?"
Berun rubbed his fingers through his beard. "We go into the mountains. Deep into the Khopet-Dag. Sauk might follow us there, but his men won't. Leading so many into the mountains would attract unwelcome attention. He knows that."
"And we won't?" asked Lewan.
"I'll be careful," said Berun. "We're going to the yaqubi." "The yaqubi? Why?"
"Chereth and I lived with them for a couple of seasons." The ghost of a smile flickered over Berun's lips. "It's where I found and bonded Perch. The yaqubi are good people. You'll be safe there."
"Safe?" said Lewan. His heart skipped a beat and started hammering in his chest. "You mean… you're leaving me?" "Lewan-"
"You can't! Please! I-"
"Lewan!" Berun grabbed Lewan's shoulders and shook him.
Lewan closed his mouth with an audible snap. He blinked and stared at Berun, trying to find the words that would convince his master. Berun was the only father he had known since his own father… Lewan clenched his eyes shut and turned away. He could feel a sob building in the back of his throat. I will not cry, he told himself, and he took a deep breath to calm himself.
"Listen to me, Lewan," said Berun. "What Sauk told me… I don't know if any of it is true or not. Chereth, the Old Man… any of it. But I have to know. I have to be sure. If there is even a chance that my master is alive…"
"I'll come with you."
"No."
"I'm ready, master. I am! I can help. I-"
"No, Lewan." Berun did not shout. His voice was low, almost gruff, but there was no room for argument in it. "No. Not to Sentinelspire. You don't know that place. It is…"
"What?"
"It's… hard to see clearly there." "I don't understand."
"I know." Berun offered a smile, but it never touched his eyes, and in the gloom of the forest the expression seemed almost obscene. "You must understand, Lewan. Sentinelspire is a realm built on blood. Murder. Despite what the bards may tell you, murder doesn't come easy. At least not to most people. Killing a man is a hard thing. Killing for no good reason save that you're told to do so… that's… damn. I don't have the words. It's not natural, is what it is. You have to convince a man not only that he can kill, but that he wants to. To do that…" Berun shook his head. "I don't want you anywhere near that place."
"I'm strong, master," said Lewan. "You've taught me well. I'm not afraid."
"That's what worries me. That's how the Old Man gets to you."
"But-"
"No, Lewan." Berun's voice was hard. Cold. "My mind is set as stone. I'm going alone. When I'm done, I'll come for you."
"And if you don't come back?" Even Lewan could hear the petulance in his voice. Like a child. A scared little boy. But he didn't care. "What then? What about me?"
Berun held the silence a moment, looking him eye to eye, then said, "Get some rest. We move at first light."
Chapter Twelve
16Tarsakh, the Year of Lightning Storms (1374 DR) The foothills of the Khopet-Dag
Morning dawned no drier. Lewan woke to the sound of the rain roaring outside their shelter. Sitting across from him, his head resting against the remains of a long dead waxleaf shrub, Berun slept, his lips open slightly. Sometime during the night Berun had changed into dry clothes and braided his hair to keep it out of his face.
Lewan sat up. His muscles were stiff, and though his injured arm still hurt, the pain was good. Pain was feeling; the numbness was gone. Lewan leaned over and shook Berun.
"Master, wake up. It's morning."
Berun's eyes snapped open. He looked around and groaned. "I didn't mean to sleep."
"You can't exhaust yourself," said Lewan. "Yesterday was hard."
"Today will be harder," said Berun. "We must go far and fast. The rain will help to hide us. All but the biggest spiders will stay under cover. But it won't make traveling pleasant."
Lewan looked outside. Above the trees, the rain still came down in sheets, and millions of tiny waterfalls fell from leaves and branches. Water had begun to seep into Lewan and
Berun's shelter, and a tiny river was running down the hill just beyond the pile of leaves near the entrance.
"Should we not wait out the storm?" asked Lewan.
"We dare not risk it. Sauk and his band are still too close for my liking."
"You said the venom would take a few days to work through their blood."
"I also said we shouldn't underestimate Sauk. We need to have leagues behind us come nightfall."
They shared a light meal and washed it down with rainwater, then set about securing their packs and tightening their bootlaces. Berun hesitated at the entrance.
"What's wrong, master?"
"Help me," said Berun, and he began stringing his bow. It was no easy task in the cramped confines of their shelter. But wedging it between them, Lewan holding one end while Berun secured the string on the other, they managed.