asked my name, you brought me soup one night when I was tired so I needn't stir. You probably don't even remember, kindness is natural to you as breathing, but I do." She stared into the bowl she carried and her voice dropped. "Besides, I had a daughter once. She'd have been about your age." When she looked back at me her eyes were alight with a dancing admiration. "And I hope she might have been something like you, too, brave as brass and tell
'em all where to go." She grinned. "There's even rumours Marik tried it on with you and you knocked him silly! He spent a while closeted away with his Healer, but not afore some'd seen his bruises. That was well done."
She started feeding me again, but for some reason simply looking at me seemed to catch her just so and she started laughing. "Ah, girl, never mind me—but dear Goddess, will I ever forget the sight of you, half dead and carried here by a Dragon! Or the look on Marik's face, or the squeak he made when that Dragon told him to do well by you or he'd know of it! Marik would've killed the two of you for a pin if he could have, but he had to put a bold face on it.
Ah, dear girl, you've made this a voyage to remember!" I had never heard her laugh before. It sounded a bit rusty, but it was a good laugh.
"Besides," she added, calming down, "you'll find there's another interested in your well-being now, even if his life didn't depend on it. It's not your kind soul has got you inside the only real walls on this forsaken island and a night in a real bed treated by his own Healer! Nay, there's a price owing to Marik; and make no mistake, Merchants collect on then-debts."
I was instantly sober. In my pain I had forgotten just what Marik thought he was owed. And now here I was, in his power again, even in his debt. Why had he healed me, when surely he and his pet Caderan could have simply offered me to the demons? My heart sank. Of course. I was to be handed over to the Rakshasa whole. In any practice, sacrifices are better received if they are perfect before they are killed.
"Rella," I said, keeping my voice low as she bustled about, "I need your help. I don't know if I can get out of here on my own."
"Not for a good few hours anyway, until those hands of yours are healed," she said lightly.
"Marik's orders."
"No, I mean I have to get away. Now, if possible." I reached out clumsily with my bandaged arm and blocked her path, looking her in the eyes. "He's going to kill me, Rella, or hand me over living to the Rakshasa. Probably tonight. Please, for pity's sake, will you help me?"
"So—you know about that, do you?" she said very quietly, and in a voice I had never heard from her. I drew back in horror. Was she privy to Marik's counsels, was she in league with him? But she smiled and put her hand oh so gently on my arm. "Come now, my girl, do I look like one of them?"
"I wouldn't know."
She grinned. "Like I said before, better late than never." She pulled the chair next to the bed and sat, her face on a level with mine, and her whole demeanour was changed. Gone were the rough edges of a practical countrywoman. Her eyes were sharp with intelligence, her carriage even of that twisted body spoke of hidden strength, and her voice, low and intense, bore only a trace of a northern accent. "You are not the only one with secrets. I am a Master of the Silent Service in Sorun. I was sent to learn what I could of Marik and his doings, for he has gained power in too many quiet corners of Kolmar far too swiftly to suit us, even before he determined to come here. That he should set out on such a chancy venture drew our attention, for he is in all things a cautious man. We suspected he had foreknowledge of his success from—other sources. Caderan and his demons, for example."
I lay back and tried to grasp the change in her, tried to understand what she was so carefully not saying. "Rella, what are you talking about? I thought he sought only wealth."
"Child, child, since when has anyone ever sought wealth alone? Wealth is a means to an end, and mat end is power. There are more branches of the House of Gundar in the Four Kingdoms than of any other Merchant House, despite its relative youth." Her voice was thick with disgust as she added, ''And each one is well supplied with men and arms, and each one has its own sorcerer." She spat.
My head reeled. "Sorcerer? Blessed Shia, do you mean there is a demon master in each of the local merchant enclaves, even in the towns?"
"At least one."
"Mother of us all," I breathed, a curse and an invocation. "Rella, do you tell me he is using demons to gain power throughout all of Kolmar?"
"As fast as he can. And you are the key, Lanen Kaelar."
My heart leapt with fear at that name, but her gentle manner stopped me from trying to get out of bed. She smiled, a smile full of knowing that somehow suited her far too well. "Never wonder, child. I told you I am of the Silent Service. We have ears everywhere. I risk my master's wrath for speaking openly to you, but you are too vital a piece in this game to act in ignorance."
"How did you find me?" I asked softly.
"Pure chance. My partner and I found ourselves trapped one night in a nameless village in central Ilsa, driven to the inn there by torrential rains. We rose late the next morning and sat in a corner in the tavern. The only others there when we sat down were an older man and a tall young woman with hair like ripe wheat. The older man did a great deal of talking."
Blessed Shia. The couple in the corner, sat there all the time, hearing every word. I had never looked close enough to have seen her crooked back. Dear Lady, how could I have been so stupid?
"It was a fine tale, Lanen. Are you Marik's daughter?"
"I don't know," I said miserably. "I think I must be. If I were not and he knew it, he would surely have let me die."
"Mmm. You didn't hear your Dragon friend speak to him last night. I think Marik would have tried to keep you alive for that one's good will, at least for the moment. But probably best to assume for now that he is your father. In any case your time is short. The ritual is set for this very night, as soon as true darkness falls. We have only until then to get you out."
"Truth, then," I said, my eyes locked on hers. "Why are you helping me?"
One corner of her mouth lifted. "Marik's as nasty and vicious a son of the Hells as ever drew breath, or hadn't you heard? And I've no wish to live under the rule of demons. Besides," she added, touching my cheek softly, "I spoke true about your kindness, and my daughter. Now, quickly, tell me what you can about the Dragons."
"Rella, I can't, I promised—"
"Idiot. I don't want to know their secrets or yours. Just tell me how to get in touch with them if I need to. Just in case."
I was taken aback. ''Very well. There are three who might help you—us. Akor first, if he is there—that's the Guardian, the silver one who brought me back. Or Kédra, or Shikrar. Go to the place of Summoning, or anywhere on the Boundary, and call out. Someone will come, and if it isn't one of those three"—I grinned—"just don't get them angry."
Behind her the door opened and the guard I'd hit with the sea chest came in. He had a horrible bruise on his forehead and he didn't look any too pleased to see me.
"Well, mother," he said. "Is she fit to speak with my lord?"
"Aye, soon enough, soon enough," said Rella calmly, her accent thick with the north. "Just you tell M'lord Marik to wait a bit. There's things unattended to yet. Tell him half an hour."
"Now, mother."
She whirled on him in obvious anger. ''If he fancies watching my lady make water, let him come now. She's never even been to the necessary, and it'll not be swift or simple with her arms as they are and all she's been through. Half an hour!"