"I don't want the magic to touch me," she finally said, knowing as she did that it made little sense. She was too young to have come into her power, which was why she had survived the plague when it destroyed Tivston. This spell must have been intended for grown-ups, not for children. Still, she wanted them all to understand that she didn't approve of this.
For a moment she feared that U'Selle would laugh at her, that all of them would. But the a'laq regarded her solemnly.
"That seems fair," she said. "But I will pass the spell on to N'Tevva and S'Doryn. Is that all right?"
She looked back at N'Tevva, and then at S'Doryn. Like the a'laq, both of them appeared to be taking her seriously.
"Yes," Jynna said. "But I don't want to be here when you do it."
U'Selle nodded.
Jynna turned to leave the house, but before she could, S'Doryn said, "We still need to talk about what you did, Jynna. I don't care about the reason. Listening to other people's private conversations is wrong."
"All right," Jynna said, her voice low. She looked at the a'laq once more. "What about the other Mettai?" she asked. "You're willing to trust these two men, but what about the others?"
U'Selle straightened. "The other Mettai are enemies of all Fal'Borna people. Like the dark-eye army with which they've allied themselves, they'll be crushed. If I have the chance, I'll destroy them myself."
Jynna nodded once. "Good." And she walked out of the house.
Chapter 15
It happened without much fanfare, just as Grinsa had hoped and expected it would. The morning after he walked in the n'qlae's dreams, he heard from Q'Daer that the a'laq had decided that the Mettai were to be spared for the time being. When Grinsa asked the young Weaver why E'Menua had chosen to keep the men alive, Q'Daer shrugged as if the decision were of little consequence, and said, "We're preparing for war. Right now nothing else matters. And I think he believes we can learn something of Mettai magic from them."
If the young Fal'Borna knew more than he was letting on, he did a good job of concealing it. After ending his conversation with Q'Daer, Grinsa hurried to the Mettai's z'kal. Besh and Sirj were inside, both of them looking grim.
"They're not letting us out of here," Besh said, as soon as Grinsa stepped into the shelter. "They say that we're prisoners and we're not to set foot outside."
"I'll see what I can do about that," Grinsa told him. "Believe it or not, you're better off than you might have been. E'Menua had every intention of executing you both. I've seen to it that he won't, but for now you are prisoners. There was nothing I could do about that. I'm sorry."
Besh shook his head, looking sad and old. "It's not your doing."
"They're going to want you to tell them about Mettai magic," Grinsa said.
Sirj looked up sharply. "What about it?"
"How it works. How to combat it."
"And if we refuse?" the younger man asked.
Grinsa shrugged. "I don't know what they'll do. I'm not telling you this because I think you should answer their questions. I just thought you should know that they'll be asking you about your magic."
Sirj nodded but said nothing more.
Grinsa didn't stay with the Mettai for long. The entire sept had begun preparations for the coming war, and though E'Menua and the other Weavers had made it clear to him that Weavers weren't to labor with other Fal'Borna, he felt that he should do something. Men and women were shaping spear shafts while children sharpened the heads for the weapons. Others were gathering food for the sept's warriors, and still others were collecting blankets for the warriors to carry with them on the journey. Surely there was work enough that all needed to contribute.
But Grinsa soon learned that it wasn't just the Weavers who felt he shouldn't stoop to menial work. Nearly all the Fal'Borna seemed uncomfortable with the idea of a Weaver helping them. Mostly he sat outside his z'kal playing with Bryntelle while Cresenne worked. Twice a day he carried his daughter to the tanning circle and let Cresenne nurse her before taking her back home. He occasionally went to check on Besh and Sirj, to see if they needed anything and to make certain they were being treated well. But his conversations with the Mettai remained strained.
That was where he was on the third day after his conversation with the n'qlae, when a young warrior found him and informed him that the a'laq wished to speak with him. Immediately, he took Bryntelle to the older Fal'Borna girls who usually cared for the young children of the sept. Then he made his way to E'Menua's z'kal.
He found the a'laq sitting outside the shelter with D'Pera, Q'Daer, and L'Norr. At least two dozen younger warriors, most of whom Grinsa didn't know, stood around their small circle, clearly listening to their conversation. He guessed that these men were a'jeis, leaders of small hunting parties who answered to the a'laq's Weavers. It seemed logical that in times of war the a'jeis would take on responsibilities similar to those of captains in an Eandi army.
"At last," E'Menua said, not bothering to hide his annoyance.
"Forgive me, A'Laq. I was-"
"I know where you were," E'Menua said coldly. He indicated a space next to Q'Daer at his right. "Sit down."
Grinsa sat. The other Weavers hardly spared him a glance, but the young warriors stared at him, some merely with curiosity, others with open hostility.
"I've spoken with other a'laqs on the plain," E'Menua began, casting a quick look Grinsa's way. "All are preparing to drive back the Eandi invaders. Our warriors are to meet those of the other septs east of S'Vralna. We have enough spears to arm every man and woman in the sept, and we have horses for every able warrior. Even now, U'Vara." He glanced at Grinsa again. "My daughter. She is directing the children of the sept as they pack sacks of dried rilda meat and raw silverroot. We have skins for water, and plenty of blankets."
"You've prepared well, A'Laq," Grinsa said, and he meant it. He'd seen Eandi lords in the Forelands task their quartermasters with readying an army for battle, only to have those preparations take days and days. Yes, E'Menua's army was small compared to those of Eibitharian dukedoms, but still, Grinsa thought, many Eandi nobles could learn a thing or two from the Fal'Borna about readying their people for war.
"You expected less of us?" E'Menua asked testily.
"I didn't know what to expect. I'm very impressed."
E'Menua frowned, as if disconcerted by the compliment. "Each of you will be leading a party of riders, aided by six or seven a'jeis. L'Norr and Q'Daer, you'll take those with fire magic. I intend to take the shapers." He turned to Grinsa. "You have experience with mists and winds?"
Grinsa smiled, remembering his and Cresenne's sea voyage to the Southlands, when he had used the power of winds to steer their ship through a violent storm. "Yes, A'Laq. I'll guard our men from the arrows of the Eandi bowmen."
It was E'Menua's turn to sound surprised. "You've done this before?" the a'laq asked.
"Yes. A war was fought in the Forelands just before we left. On more than one occasion I had to summon winds to defeat the arrows of Eandi attackers."
"Very well then," the a'laq said.
Several of the warriors appeared to regard Grinsa with even more enmity. He wondered if these were men with magic of mists and winds who would have to take orders from him.
"There will be many septs on the plain, and many a'laqs. You'll take orders from me, and no one else."