"Agreed, then," said Marik, his voice recovered. "At that I should have at least some idea of what I can bring out in safety. After the ritual I would ask you to complete the preparation of the other articles, and of the summoning for tomorrow, should it be required. Make certain all is your best work, for my life—indeed, all our lives—will depend upon it."
"So it shall be, my lord," said Caderan. "Do you still intend to speak to the winged ones first?"
"If I can. Why should I put myself in danger if I can win all by negotiation? I have my guards searching for the horse breeder, she can't have gone far. I had hoped we might find her ourselves."
"I told you she would be here, my lord, and there is but one path. We have not met her, therefore she is ahead of us and must return this way."
"So you said. But I have seen no trace of her."
"Only let us wait, my lord. She will come."
Damn. No way out. But what did I have to do with his negotiations?
"You are certain she has spoken with them?"
Ah.
"Yes, my lord. So I have been informed."
"Your informants are never wrong?"
I felt Caderan's laugh shiver down my back. "You are pleased to jest, my lord. No, they are never wrong. I pay them well; they would not dare to be wrong. Even demons can die."
I was barely breathing, keeping as still as I could, praying they would not come any farther. My fir trees suddenly seemed no protection at all. I did not fear Marik physically—I carried a dagger still, and felt certain I could at least hold him off. But I feared that demon master with all my soul. Oh, to be a Dragon—idiot! Tell them! Call them with truespeech and warn them!
If I had stopped to think I wouldn't have done it—but I have never been accused of too much thought. I closed my eyes and concentrated.
"Akor? Akor, my brother? Eldest Shikrar, do you hear me? It is Lanen who calls." I waited a moment in silence, repeated myself, still no answer. I didn't know how to do what I needed to do, so I simply opened my mind as best I could and more or less yelled. "I send warning to the Greater Kindred. There is on this island a demon master, by name Caderan, who is in league with the Merchant Marik. They seek to negotiate with you. They plot some mischief, but I cannot tell what. If I should die, warn Lord Akor, I pray you. Be 'ware!"
There was no reply. I had no way of knowing if I had been heard or not, and once I took a moment to think about it I blushed there in the trees and groaned silently. If Caderan could detect such things I was dead where I stood. And how many thousands of years had the Kindred been looking after themselves with no help from my worthy self? I realised I had called them simply out of my fear, my helplessness and my anger at Marik. I hoped Akor, if he heard me, would not be too angry. Perhaps no one had heard a thing, perhaps I had to be closer. . . .
Then a voice came in my mind. "You have been heard, Lanen Maransdatter. Shikrar speaks. We thank you for your warning. Are you in present danger?" His voice was dispassionate but kind. At least he didn't sound angry.
I pondered the question, and found that the contact had relieved my fears. I concentrated and replied, "I’m not certain, but I don't think so."
"You have our gratitude. If danger threatens, do not fear to call upon us for such assistance as we may give. Farewell." I breathed a small, noiseless sigh of relief. I hated to ask for help, but once offered I would not refuse it. I smiled to myself. Shikrar had a kinder heart than he admitted to.
Now all I had to worry about was outwaiting Marik here on this lonely path. He and Caderan were speaking quietly about the size of the Harvest and other small matters, and seemed prepared from their voices to wait until midnight if need be, when of a sudden Marik groaned.
"My lord?" said Caderan, his voice touched with just the light amount of concern.
"Unh. The lansip has worn off. Damn it to al the Hells, why now!" His silken voice was rough with pain, though I couldn't imagine what from.
They say all knowledge comes to those who wait.
"Such conditions have no cure and few releases from suffering, my lord," said Caderan, with what almost sounded like a trace of smugness. "When you win back the Farseer, and not before, the ceaseless pain that plagues you will end forever. So much Magister Berys told me. That which you made was invested with much of your own essence, and long parting must needs be painful."
"You can stop preaching at me, sorcerer. I have lived with this for twenty-four years. There is nothing you can tell me about this pain that I have not long known." A low moan escaped him. "I have sworn it, I will find that thief and recover what is mine or die trying. But not here."
"My lord?"
"She may be coming but I won't stand here in the cold waiting for her. She must return to the camp eventually". Help me back along the path. I'll send out my guards for her when I get back to my chambers."
"As you wish, my lord," smarmed Caderan, and I heard their voices dwindle in the distance. I waited the best part of half an hour before I emerged from the trees.
I tried to think straight, to consider what I might say to Marik when he caught up with me—for he would, no doubt, I had nowhere to run—but my mind would not stay still. I was far too frightened, and my mind would not keep on my own danger no matter how I tried to force it. Instead, I considered what I had heard. I assumed that "undetected" meant he was to cross the Boundary, but what did he seek? Dragon gold? Perhaps—but that was only a rumour, and surely with this harvest of lansip leaves, and now fruit, there was no need to face such extreme danger for such a mundane metal, rare and valuable ,as it was.
I thought about this, for I could not bear to think about what he might want with me, or how powerless I was to stop him.
It was well done, I had to admit. If I had thought for a year I could not have come up with a more dramatic way to introduce her to the Kindred.
I had settled my thoughts and let the Discipline of Calm soothe my emotions. It was early afternoon when I began the summoning.
Calling the Kindred to Council is neither swift nor simple. The full Council meets once every five years at midsummer; summoning all of us together in the meantime is difficult and tends to meet with resistance. Sorme are busy raising younglings (though not in these latter days); some have studies or travels of exploration that take their time; some of the Elders meditate for years on end and find the regular Council trouble enough.
I had convinced perhaps half of my people when Lanen's call rang out like a youngling in distress. "Akor? Akor, my brother? Dear friend dear one hear me Eldest Shikrar, do you hear me? anyone listen hear me It is Lanen who calls fear fear danger."
That alone would have convinced any who doubted she had truespeech, let alone what followed.
"I send warning to the Greater Kindred. I hope someone can hear me, hear me hear me danger! There is on this island a demon master, by name Caderan,\voice of a Gedri boasting of his ties to the Rakshasa\ horrible man look like a weasel he's proud of his corruption how sickening who is in League with the Merchant Marik. Damn him, fear danger sorrow loss fear \vision of the tall fair-haired hawk-nosed Merchant who had appeared at the place of Summoning\ They seek to negotiate with you. He spoke of preparations and walking undetected eight miles that's all Caderan could give him They plot some mischief, but I cannot tell what. Marik spoke of 'what he could bring out in safety' what does he seek I don't know If I should die, warn Lord Akor, I pray you. \great longing for Akor\ Danger to me now to you soon damn Marik Be 'ware! danger beware beware!"