"The reason E'Menua was able to get away with what he did today is that their actions are so alien to the Fal'Borna, no one in the sept really believes they could have done it. But they did. I'm alive because they did. And unlike everyone else, you know it's true. You used mind-bending on Besh today. You read his thoughts. You know the truth. That makes you different from every other Fal'Borna here."
"Your point?" she asked warily.
"Isn't it clear? Knowing what you do, you have a responsibility to try to save them."
"I've already told you-"
"Yes, I know. E'Menua won't admit what he did. For now he doesn't have to. All I'm asking is that you prevail upon him to spare their lives. Tell him they'd be more valuable as prisoners, that they might be able to teach us something about Mettai magic. Think of something. But don't let these men die."
"What if he won't listen to me?"
"Make it clear to him that you didn't like what he did today." He held her gaze. "You didn't like it, did you?"
"That's not your concern."
Grinsa smiled. "You're right. It's not. I have a long night ahead of me, N'Qlae. So I'll leave you now. I do apologize for coming to you this way. It was presumptuous of me, but I couldn't think of any other way to approach you without the a'laq's knowledge."
"What do you mean, you have a long night ahead of you?" D'Pera asked. "You intend to speak with others this way?"
"I intend to do what E'Menua should have done long ago, when Q'Daer first told him that Besh had healed us. I'm going to contact other a'laqs on the plain and pass the spell to them. I'm going to save as many lives as I can."
She eyed him with curiosity, as if looking at him for the first time. "I'm not sure I understand everything you've said to me tonight. The Forelands sound… strange. But I'll do what you ask." She started to say more but then stopped herself. "Now leave me so I can sleep." She softened the words with a faint smile.
"Thank you, N'Qlae. Dream well."
He broke the magical connection linking his thoughts to hers and opened his eyes. He knew a moment of dizziness, but it was gone as quickly as it had come. All was quiet in the sept. He got up and peered into the z'kal and saw that Cresenne and Bryntelle were both sleeping.
Returning to his seat outside the shelter, he closed his eyes once more and again reached out with his magic. This time, he reached far beyond the sept, directing his thoughts northward, toward the Horn, where so many Fal'Borna lived and where so many merchants ventured this time of year, perhaps including those who still carried some of Lici's baskets.
Before the night was through, he intended to reach to the south as well, toward Thamia and other Fal'Borna settlements near the Ofirean Sea. From all that Jasha had told him before he died, it seemed that merchants often passed the colder turns on the warm shores of the inland sea. And in the nights to come, he'd attempt to speak with a'laqs in settlements near the Silverwater. He felt certain that Torgan would be headed that way with his small scrap of cursed basket, and though he thought it likely that the one-eyed merchant would try to avoid any septs he spotted, Grinsa couldn't ignore the danger.
Reaching across the plain with his magic, the first sept he found appeared to him as a small cluster of light amidst a vast darkness. Sifting through those lights he could sense the type of magic wielded by each person, and so could pick out Weavers from among the others. And when he found two Weavers sharing a z'kal, he knew that he had found the a'laq and n'qlae. Reaching into the mind of the man in this first sept, he summoned that image of the plain once more and stepped into the a'laq's dreams.
He was an older man, his back slightly stooped and his face deeply lined, but his pale yellow eyes were still bright and alert. They narrowed as he looked at Grinsa across the expanse of plain grass.
"Who are you?" he asked. "What clan are you from?"
"My name is Grinsa jal Arriet, A'Laq, and though I come from the Forelands, I'm living now among the Fal'Borna in the sept of E'Menua, son of E'Sedt."
"You're with E'Menua's sept?" the man asked, sounding doubtful.
"I am, A'Laq. You've heard of the plague making its way across the plain?"
"Yes, of course."
"I've had that plague and I've survived, thanks to two men named Besh and Sirj. These men are Mettai and they have been traveling through Fal'Borna lands, risking their lives so that they might stop this plague from spreading farther. They killed the Mettai witch who first conjured the plague, and they've found a way to make all Qirsi immune to it. By entering your dream and touching your magic, I've spread their spell to you. You're now immune to the plague, and you can make every man and woman in your sept immune by using your magic on them. Touch them with healing, enter their dreams, use your power to augment theirs. Whatever you choose, it will have the same effect."
The a'laq gaped at Grinsa as if the Forelander had told him he could now hold Morna's Ocean in the palm of his hand.
"You're certain of this?" he asked breathlessly. "You truly had the plague yourself?"
Grinsa smiled. "Yes, A'Laq. This is a gift to you from E'Menua. All he asks in return is that if you encounter the plague, you contact him immediately to let him know that the spell worked and saved your people."
"Yes! Yes, of course!"
"Thank you, A'Laq. I have to leave you now. I have many more a'laqs to contact."
"I'm sure you do. Thank you, Grinsa of the Forelands. May Qirsar smile upon E'Menua and his sept."
"I'll convey your kind words to the a'laq."
He stepped out of the man's dreams and immediately began searching for the next sept farther to the north. Before long he found it, and reached down with his magic for the a'laq.
Chapter 13
Two days after their attack on the first sept, the Eandi army encountered their second Fal'Borna settlement. This one was larger than the first and it didn't appear to have been damaged by the plague. It also was situated in a part of the plain that had fewer rises and dales. The army had no hope of taking these Fal'Borna by surprise. In fact, Tirnya and her father were quite certain that the Qirsi spotted their army only a short time after their forward scouts caught sight of the sept.
"Now our planning will be tested," Jenoe muttered, eyeing the terrain around the settlement, seeming to search for any advantage the land might offer them.
To Tirnya's untrained eye, the landscape appeared to offer little.
"We should do this without the Mettai, Marshal," Gries said, looking regal on his white stallion.
Jenoe shook his head, still surveying the plain. "I'm not convinced that we can, Captain Ballidyne. These Fal'Borna are at full strength, and they know we're here. Fighting the white-hairs on such terms is what led to our loss of these lands in the first place."
"Wolves, then?" Tirnya asked.
Her father glanced at her. Then he turned to one of the scouts who had first brought word of the settlement. "Bring the eldest. Quickly."
The man bowed in his saddle, and then rode back toward the Mettai.
"We'll have to ride closer," Gries said. "That's what the eldest will say. Last time, the white-hairs went for our mounts and raised a mist. If this is a full sept, they may well have several Weavers. They could attack us with shaping and fire as well as the rest."
"What would you suggest then, Captain?" asked Marshal Crish.
"If they've seen us, there's nothing we can do," Enly said, before Gries could answer. "This has been the risk all along, hasn't it? We based our strategy on the assumption that the Fal'Borna have been weakened by the plague. The first settlement had been. But it seems that the plague spared some septs and now we have to fight our way through." He hesitated, his eyes flicking toward Tirnya. "Or we have to turn back right now."