"Heal me," he muttered. "Take that damn thing out of my hand and heal me."
He heard Sirj say something, realized that the younger man wasn't alone, but he couldn't even bring himself to open his eyes.
He must have passed out a second time. The next thing he knew, he was sitting up, and someone was giving him water to drink. He forced his eyes open and found himself looking into Sirj's concerned face. Several Qirsi stood behind him. Fal'Borna. The pain in his hand had dulled to a throbbing ache; his shoulder and legs felt better, too. No doubt he looked a mess.
"Thank you," he said.
"I only did part of it," Sirj said, glancing toward the white-hairs. "And I wouldn't thank them, yet. I think they're going to kill us."
Besh looked past Sirj at the nearest of the Fal'Borna, an older man with long white hair and a white stone hanging at his throat. The Qirsi stared back at him until at last Besh faced Sirj again.
"It seems you haven't done much better than I have today."
Sirj shrugged. "I haven't done very well, but I managed not to get stabbed, so I think I'm still ahead."
Besh had to grin. "Help me up," he said.
"I don't think you're ready."
"I don't care. Before these men kill me, I want to look them in the eye."
Sirj nodded and helped him to his feet. His legs trembled and the pain in his thigh returned, but after a moment he found the strength to stand without Sirj's support.
The old Fal'Borna gestured at Lici's body. "This is the witch who cursed my people?"
"Yes," Besh said.
"And you killed her."
"I had no choice. She was going to kill me. She was going to curse the Mettai as she did the Y'Qatt."
Sirj gaped at him, but Besh kept his attention fixed on the Fal'Borna. "Your friend said that a merchant is still wandering the plain selling her baskets."
"We believe he is, yes. We know his name and what he looks like, but we have no idea where he is right now."
"Is it still your intention to search for him?" the Fal'Borna asked. "A'Laq-" one of the warriors said in a low voice.
The Fal'Borna raised a hand, silencing him. "Is it?" he asked again. Besh nodded. "Yes. I swore an oath to the leader of my village that I would find Lici and stop her. I found her and she's dead. But I won't have fulfilled my oath until I've ended this plague she loosed upon you."
The a'laq nodded. "Then you'll need food."
Sirj gave him a puzzled look. "I thought that Fal'Borna law gave you little choice but to kill us."
"That was before," the a'laq said. "Now, your friend has killed an enemy of the Fal'Borna. By custom that makes him an ally, and you as well." He smiled, the change in his expression transforming his appearance. All the severity vanished, leaving a face as friendly and open as any Besh had ever seen. "Come, friends. We'll feed you and give you more food for your travels."
"We can pay you," Sirj said.
The a'laq grinned. "Oh, you will." He turned and started toward the Fal'Borna's mounts, which stood clustered together a short distance off. "What about her?" Besh asked.
The a'laq paused and glanced at Lici once more. "We leave her to the crows."
Not long ago Besh would have objected. He thought he'd come to understand Lici; not to sympathize with her, but at least to recognize the dark path that led her to the terrible things she had done. He could tell that Sirj expected him to argue with the Fal'Borna, to plead for a more dignified end for the woman. But his hand ached, and his legs and shoulder still pained him, and he couldn't stop thinking about what might have happened to Elica and his grandchildren and the people he had known all his life if she had made good on her final threat.
Silently, he followed the a'laq. And as he passed her body, he tapped two fingers against his lips four times: the Mettai warding against evil.
Chapter 8
QALS YN, STELPANA
For the first several days after the Harvest Tournament it seemed to Tirnya that nobody in the city spoke of anything except her failure to draw blood from Enly while the lord heir was down, and her subsequent defeat in that final match. Most thought they were doing her a kindness by telling her how honorably she had fought. Others made it clear that they thought she was too soft to be an effective warrior, or an effective captain in His Lordship's army, for that matter. As her father had counseled that first day, she tried to listen only to those who saw the virtue in what she had done, but ignoring her doubters proved nearly impossible.
Soon enough, however, her days and nights were occupied with more pressing matters. The brigands who had been harassing peddlers on the roads south of the city were expanding their assaults, striking at travelers from the north as well. At any time, the lord governor had little patience for such lawlessness in his lands. But with the Harvest trading well under way, he seemed to view these attacks as a personal affront, as if the brigands were plundering gold from His Lordship's treasury. He ordered his captains to rid the lands around the city of all the outlaws and he made it clear that he didn't care if any of his soldiers ate or slept again until his orders had been carried out. He even went so far as to offer a bounty of ten sovereigns for each brigand killed or caught.
Needless to say, Tirnya's soldiers spent nearly as much time planning how to spend the gold they expected to earn as they did actually hunting for the road thieves. To their credit, Oliban and the other lead riders in her company kept the foot soldiers on task much of the time. As a result, Tirnya's riders claimed a good portion of His Lordship's gold as their own. As had always been her way, Tirnya ordered that any gold earned by soldiers in her company be shared equally by all, regardless of which man struck the wounding or killing blow. She had learned this policy from her father, who had once told her that the worst thing a commander could do was to pit one of his men against another.
"They live and die as a company," he had told her, when she was first learning the rudiments of command. "They ought to share equally in everything. The glory of one is the glory of all; the same is true of failure."
Maisaak's rewards struck her as being no different, and her men appeared to agree. That said, she took no share of the gold for herself. She earned enough as their leader.
Enly's company and that of Stri Balkett also claimed a fair amount of Maisaak's gold, but by the end of the waxing, small bands of brigands still remained at large. His Lordship's patience, as all of them knew, was far from boundless, and most days Tirnya and her men were on duty from midday to dawn. In the few hours afforded them in the mornings, they slept and ate, and saw to whatever other duties their lives demanded. Her men were ragged with fatigue, and Tirnya was not much better off.
Her father complained bitterly about how hard the lord governor was pushing them, but when Tirnya pressed him he admitted that, if he were ruler of the city, he would do much the same. The brigands' attacks had taken a heavy toll. Dozens of peddlers had lost their gold and their wares over the past turn and a half. Many had been wounded, and, to date, eleven people were known to have been murdered. The thieves had also taken a heavy toll on trade throughout the city, and would continue to do so until they were wiped out. Already there was talk in the marketplace of merchants avoiding Qalsyn, of traders in other towns and villages saying that the city was no longer safe. Crafters in the city and farmers from the surrounding countryside had goods to sell; they needed gold so that they could buy their provisions for the coming Snows. Tirnya was desperate for rest, and though she had no affection for Maisaak, she understood why he was demanding so much of her and her company.
Yet, even with all of Qalsyn gripped by talk of the brigands and the skirmishes being fought beyond the city walls, Tirnya also managed to listen to other tales being bandied about among the peddlers' carts and stalls of the city marketplace. These stories had nothing to do with thieves, or for that matter with this city. Rather, they pertained to the outbreak of pestilence in the Central Plain.