He must have sensed her doubts, because he said immediately, "It's all right, N'Qlae. I'm a friend. I intend you no harm."
She looked around again. It felt the way Weaver dreams always did. The setting, his voice-it had to be real. And yet…
"What clan are you from?" she asked. "Who are you?"
"My name is Grinsa jal Arriet. I'm from the Forelands, though right now I'm living among the Fal'Borna. I'm in the sept of E'Menua, son of E'Sedt."
U'Selle nodded. She had no trouble believing that this strange, handsome man came from the Northlands. And she'd heard of E'Menua. "Why have you come to me this way?"
"You've heard of the plague that's been spreading across the plain?" he asked. "The one conjured by the Mettai?"
U'Selle smiled thinly. "Yes, I've heard of it. Are there any among our-" She frowned. "Among my people who haven't?"
A small smile touched his lips and he inclined his head, seeming to concede the point. "Probably not, N'Qlae."
"I'm properly addressed as A'Laq."
The man frowned at this, clearly puzzled. "I've never… I thought…"
"It's rare for a woman to become a'laq, but it does happen. My husband was a'laq. When he died, there were no other Weavers in the village, so I took the title."
"Forgive me, A'Laq."
"Tell me, Forelander, how did this plague become your concern?"
"I told you, A'Laq: I'm living now among the Fal'Borna. It's the concern of every Qirsi on the plain. But more than that, I've had the plague, and I very nearly died of it."
"What?" she said. Then she shook her head. "I don't believe you. I haven't heard of anyone surviving this illness."
"I had help. I was saved by two Mettai men. Their names are Besh and Sirj, and they come from the village-"
U'Selle shook her head and held up a finger, stopping him. "You're telling me that you were healed by Mettai? The same people who conjured this plague in the first place, who now march against us with the dark-eyes; you want me to believe that they healed you?"
"It's the truth," he said simply. "This plague wasn't spread by all Mettai people. It was created by one twisted old woman from the same village these men come from. They tracked her, killed her, and sought to keep the plague from spreading. Eventually another Fal'Borna and I wound up journeying with them, and when we fell ill, these men created a new spell that cured us."
"That's a most remarkable tale, Forelander," the a'laq said in a voice intended to make clear that she still didn't believe him.
"It gets more remarkable, A'Laq."
She raised an eyebrow.
"The spell these men created did more than heal. It protects us from ever getting the plague again. Like the plague, it's spread by magic. So by walking in your dreams, I've passed their spell to you and made you immune to the plague."
"You're sure of this?" she asked, not yet daring to hope that it was true.
"I am, A'Laq. As I say, I had the plague. I offer as proof the fact that I'm alive. But there's still more. You can pass this spell on to the others in your sept, simply by touching them with your magic. Any magic will do. This is a gift to your people from E'Menua. All he asks is that if you encounter this plague, you let him know immediately that the spell worked and saved your people."
She regarded the man through narrowed eyes. "This is all very strange," she said. "I haven't met E'Menua, but from all I've heard about him, he doesn't seem like the kind of a'laq who would send gifts freely to other septs."
The Forelander appeared amused by this.
"And why would he have you tell me this? He has other Weavers-Fal'Borna Weavers-who could do this for him."
For a long time the man just looked back at her, a faint smile on his face. Finally he shook his head and laughed.
"I've been doing this for several nights," he said. "And you're the first a'laq to challenge me on any of it. You're also the first woman I've spoken to. My wife would tell me there's a lesson to be learned from that."
U'Selle didn't respond.
"Everything I've told you is true," the Forelander said. "Except for the part about this being a gift from E'Menua. Ile doesn't know that I've been doing this." He faltered, but only briefly. "And he wouldn't be happy if he did."
"As an a'laq, I'm obligated to tell him."
"I understand," he said evenly.
"This doesn't frighten you?" U'Selle asked.
"I don't frighten easily, A'Laq. And I believe that what I'm doing is necessary. I knew there was a risk when I began. If E'Menua finds out, so be it."
U'Selle eyed the man for several moments, tapping a finger to her lips. "You're a most unusual man, Grinsa of the Forelands. Did you really have the plague?"
"Yes, I did."
"And these Mettai cured you of it?"
"That's right."
She considered this. "But E'Menua doesn't believe you, does he?"
The man smiled. "No, he doesn't."
U'Selle nodded, though she continued to stare at him. "Why should this matter to you so much? I understand that if you're living in his sept he's your a'laq, and you don't want him doubting your word. But you've gone to a great deal of trouble to tell me all of this. There must he more to it than that."
He said nothing.
"Explain this to me, Forelander. You don't seem to fear E'Menua, but I can't imagine you want him to know about this conversation. Tell me the truth, and perhaps I'll keep all this to myself."
"All right. We can prevent this plague from spreading. We can stop it from killing. And because he doesn't believe me, the a'laq does nothing."
U'Selle waited, expecting him to say more. When he didn't, she said, "Is that all?"
"Isn't that enough?"
She narrowed her eyes again. "No. I don't think it is."
He gazed back at her for several moments, as if testing his will against hers. At last he looked away, gave another small shake of his head, and laughed again. "Your people are fortunate to have such a wise leader, A'Laq." He took a breath. "You're right: That's not all. E'Menua is holding the two Mettai men as prisoners. These men killed the woman responsible for the plague, cured me, and created this spell to protect all Qirsi. And E'Menua intends to execute them as enemies of the Fal'Borna."
U'Selle shrugged. "We're at war with the Mettai."
The man's expression turned to stone. "And here I'd started to believe that you were different."
"I'm not saying E'Menua is justified, Forelander. But even if you've only lived among the Fal'Borna for a short time, you should understand that this is how my people think. The Mettai have declared themselves enemies of the Fal'Borna; therefore, these two men are enemies as well. It's our way."
"Well, in this case, your way is leading E'Menua down a dark and dangerous path."
She nodded. "Yes, I suppose it is."
He looked frustrated, discouraged.
"Well, A'Laq, I should leave you to sleep. I have more Weavers to contact before this night is over."
"I hope all your effort is rewarded, Grinsa of the Forelands. I can't say that I'm hoping to encounter this plague-I've heard too much about it, and I've seen what it does to those it leaves behind. But if we should be exposed to it, and if we survive the encounter, I'll be sure to thank E'Menua for his generous gift."
That made the man smile. "Thank you, A'Laq."
"Go," she said. "I'd like a few hours of peace before dawn."