"Something is troubling you," the a'laq said, as they made their way past the z'kals of his people toward E'Menua's shelter. The a'laq offered this quietly, as a statement rather than as a question. But Q'Daer felt as though he had demanded the truth. Ile felt as though E'Menua was holding a knife to his throat.
"It's… it's nothing, A'Laq."
E'Menua looked at him, raising an eyebrow.
"I… I had hoped the Mettai's spell would protect us. I'm disappointed. That's all."
"Ah, of course," E'Menua said, nodding. "I understand. You journeyed with the Mettai for many leagues. You'd come to believe that they might be our friends."
"Yes, A'Laq. I had hoped it was so."
"No doubt the Forelander tried to convince you of this."
"He trusts them, yes."
"But do you trust him?"
Q'Daer stared at the ground. He could feel the a'laq's eyes upon him, but at that moment he didn't dare meet the man's gaze.
All of this should have been so simple. He was Fal'Borna. Nothing else mattered. I hadn't he said as much to Grinsa a hundred times as they traveled across the plain together? The Forelander had refused to submit to the a'laq's authority. He had spent every moment of the last several turns trying to leave the sept, making it clear that he wanted nothing to do with the Fal'Borna or their traditions. Q'Daer had no reason to trust him. Faced with a conflict between the Forelander and the Mettai on one hand, and the a'laq and his people on the other, there should have been no question as to where his loyalties lay.
But on this day nothing seemed as clear as it should. If he was to be honest with himself, he had to admit that he didn't just want to believe the Mettai. He did believe him. He didn't merely wish that Grinsa had been right about all of this. He felt certain that the Forelander was right.
And that meant that the a'laq had deceived them.
He did it to protect the sept, said a voice inside his mind. We're at war! Nothing matters more than the safety of our people.
But what threat did these Mettai pose? They had saved his life, and Grinsa's, too. They had cast that spell.
You heard Besh! There was no spell. It was a trick. Nothing more.
Yes, he had heard what the Mettai said. But he had seen the look on the old man's face. More, he had seen the look on D'Pera's face. He had seen how she stared at the a'laq, an accusation in her pale eyes. E'Menua had betrayed her. He had betrayed all of them.
"I asked you a question, Q'Daer. Do you trust the Forelander?"
But that really wasn't the question he had asked, or was asking now. E'Menua wanted to know what kind of man he was. He wanted to know if Q'Daer was willing to sacrifice a pair of dark-eye sorcerers for the good of the sept. He wanted to make certain that Q'Daer would remain true to his a'laq no matter what.
Are you Fal'Borna? That was what E'Menua had asked him.
He shouldn't have needed even to think about it.
"I don't believe the Forelander means to harm us, A'Laq. I think he'll fight beside us when it comes time to face the dark-eyes."
"That's not what I meant."
Q'Daer knew this. He hadn't intended to avoid the real question. His mind had taken him there, as if of its own free will. He needed time to think. He needed to be alone.
"I'm sorry, A'Laq. What did you mean?"
He chanced a look at E'Menua and saw that the a'laq wore a slight frown, as if he were searching for the right words.
"You say that the Forelander trusts these two Mettai. But you just heard the old one admit that they meant to harm you, that they meant to harm us all.”
"Yes, I did hear that." This time Q'Daer couldn't keep the edge from his voice.
E'Menua cast a quick look his way, his eyes narrowed. "I don't like your tone."
"Forgive me, A'Laq."
The a'laq started to say something more, still looking angry, but then stopped himself, as if thinking better of it. They were still walking, and had gone beyond the bounds of the sept to follow the small rill that ran by the settlement. Q'Daer tried to keep his eyes fixed on the ground in front of them, but he couldn't keep himself from glancing repeatedly at E'Menua. He had never been good with people. L'Norr had a much easier time reading the moods of others and getting along with them. He could have used his friend's insights now. What did the a'laq expect of him? What should he have said? This was a man he had known and respected all his life. Before today, he'd rarely had cause to question the alaq's decisions. He knew that E'Menua had his reasons for doing what he had. But he didn't know what those reasons could be, and he didn't expect the a'laq to explain himself.
He was surprised.
"You're wondering why I did it, aren't you?"
Q'Daer swallowed, still unsure of what to say.
"It's all right, Q'Daer. You're a Weaver. You could be a'laq of your own sept someday. We're leaders. We understand each other."
"Yes, A'Laq."
"These Mettai, they can't be trusted. You understand this, right?"
"I…" He licked his lips. "Yes, A'Laq."
He could feel E'Menua's eyes on him. "They're Eandi, Q'Daer. They may wield magic, but their eyes are dark."
Q'Daer nodded, still not looking at the a'laq.
"We're about to ride to war against a dark-eye army," E'Menua went on. "There are Mettai in that army. We can't have our warriors wondering if those people are truly our enemies. They have to be certain. And these two men-they confuse things. If we let them live, if we give our warriors reason to think that the Mettai are our friends, that they have saved your life and protected us, we put doubt in their minds as they go to war. I can't allow that."
This he could understand. The Forelander seemed to make things so complicated all the time. But what the a'laq had told him made sense. This was how a Fal'Borna thought. Perhaps north of the Border Range, where Grinsa came from, a Qirsi could afford to look for the good in his dark-eye enemies. But out here on the plain, in a land that had seen nearly a thousand years of war between the races, a warrior didn't have that luxury.
"Are you with me, Q'Daer?"
"Yes, A'Laq," he said, finally facing E'Menua.
The a'laq grinned. "Good." He placed a hand on Q'Daer's shoulder and both of them stopped walking. "You know that the Forelander will talk to you about this. He'll try to convince you that the Mettai are being treated unjustly."
Q'Daer nodded solemnly. "I know that, A'Laq. I can handle Gr-" He stopped, his cheeks growing hot. "I can handle the Forelander."
E'Menua patted his shoulder and started to walk back to the sept. "That's what I hoped you'd say," he called back over his shoulder.
Chapter 12
Grinsa spotted E'Menua and Q'Daer together and knew immediately that he'd already lost this battle. He had hoped that Q'Daer might understand what the a'laq had done, and that he might be angry enough about it to stand with him in protecting the Mettai. But seeing them now, E'Menua's arm resting easily on the younger man's shoulder, a smile on his bronze, tapered face, Grinsa felt his hopes vanish. He actually considered turning and walking away without even speaking to Q'Daer. He dismissed the idea in the next moment, but only because he couldn't imagine facing Besh and Sirj again and having to admit that he hadn't even tried to sway the man.
E'Menua turned away from the young Weaver and started walking in Grinsa's direction, looking far too pleased with himself. Grinsa ducked back out of sight in the shadow of a z'kal, though he thought that the a'laq had probably spotted him.