"I'm called Besh," he said. "This is Sirj; he's my daughter's husband." The two men exchanged nods.
"I need to ask you what you're carrying in your cart, Besh. It's important that you answer me honestly. Lives may be at stake."
Besh glanced at Sirj, an eyebrow raised. After a brief hesitation, Sirj nodded.
"We're carrying no baskets," Besh said, facing the Forelander again. "In fact, we're looking for a merchant who might have them."
The Fal'Borna kicked at the flanks of his mount, and in a moment was just beside Grinsa. "You know of the witch who made them?"
Besh took a breath, suddenly ashamed, though he knew he had no reason to be. "She was from our village."
The Forelander's eyes narrowed. "You speak of her as if she's dead."
"She is," Besh said. "I killed her."
The reaction to this from the two Qirsi, indeed, from all four of the strangers, was not at all what Besh had expected. Grinsa winced. The two Eandi, a large, heavy man with one good eye, and a slight man with a youthful face, both responded much the same way. The Fal'Borna, on the other hand, merely frowned.
"How long ago?" Grinsa finally asked in a thick voice.
"Just a few days. She attacked me, and she threatened to do to my people what she had done to the Y'Qatt."
"It's not just the Y'Qatt," the Fal'Borna said, glowering at him.
"Forgive me. I know that. But she intended it for the Y'Qatt. It was to be retribution for an old injury they did her."
The younger of the two Eandi steered his mount closer to those of the Qirsi. "You say you're looking for a merchant. Did the woman tell you his name?"
Sirj glanced Besh's way and shook his head.
"I'll answer your questions in good time," Besh said, understanding immediately. "But first I want to know what you intend to do to us." He nodded at his hand. "You've shown me what your magic can do; you know what Mettai magic is capable of. I don't want to fight you, and I'm not sure that we can prevail if you force the matter. But I'm not going to tell you all we know so that you can turn around and kill us." His gaze flicked toward the younger Qirsi. "I know how the Fal'Borna deal with those they consider enemies. I know as well that the last a'laq we encountered named us friends of the Fal'Borna after I killed Lici. But I don't expect you to take my word on that." He pulled from his pocket the necklace F'Ghara had given him and held it up for the Qirsi to see. "He gave us this."
The Fal'Borna glanced at the stone and nodded. "What was the a'laq's name?" he asked.
"F'Ghara."
The man looked at Grinsa. "I know him. He leads a small sept. He has few Weavers, if he has any at all."
"But if he's named them as friends of your people…?" Grinsa asked. "Then we have no choice but to honor his decision."
Grinsa looked at Besh again and opened his hands. "There's your answer."
Still Besh hesitated.
The Forelander smiled. "I haven't been among the Fal'Borna for long, and I don't pretend to understand all their customs. But I can tell you that they take naming someone a friend or enemy quite seriously. If this a'laq has declared his friendship, you're safe on the plain."
Besh considered this for several moments. "Very well." He looked at the Young Eandi. "To answer your question, the merchant's name was Brint HedFarren. At least that's what Lici told me."
The Eandi nodded grimly. "That's the right name. I've met HedFarren.
He doesn't have the baskets anymore. He sold them to other merchants." The elation Besh felt upon learning that Lici hadn't lied to him vanished as quickly as it had come. "Damn. How many other merchants?"
"Several."
"We were about to turn toward the Horn to look for some of them when we saw you," Grinsa said. "You're welcome to travel with us if you'd like."
"They should go to the Ofirean," the Fal'Borna said with quiet intensity. "Some of the merchants are headed there."
The two Qirsi eyed each other, but said nothing.
"We're far from our home already," Sirj finally told them. "We can go as far as the Horn, but we're not going all the way down to the sea. That's too much to ask of…" He broke off, his face reddening.
Besh grinned. "What he was going to say, before he thought better of it, is that it's too much to ask of an old man like me." Glancing at Sirj he saw that the man's cheeks were still red, but a small grin was playing at the corners of his mouth. "As much as I'm loath to admit it," he went on, "he's right."
Grinsa spoke to the Fal'Borna again, lowering his voice so that none of the rest of them could hear. Besh couldn't hear the Fal'Borna's response, either, but after a few more words from Grinsa it seemed that the two of them came to some sort of understanding.
"All right then," the Fal'Borna said brusquely to Besh and Sirj. "You can ride with us. Try to keep up."
He wheeled his horse away from them and started westward, giving the rest of them little choice but to follow. Grinsa remained where he was for a few moments, eyeing Besh and Sirj. But in the end, he rode ahead with the Fal'Borna.
Besh and Sirj started after them, as did the two Eandi. The younger one trailed behind the Qirsi, but the old one, with his scarred face and single dark eye, pulled abreast of the cart.
"You're fools to cast your lot with us," he said. "You should have gone your own way when you had the chance. You still can if you handle it right. Tell them you'll go to the Ofirean after all, and then, once we're far enough away, turn back home."
"We want to find those merchants," Besh said.
The man shook his head. "As I said, you're fools. But I suppose I should have expected no less from Mettai."
Besh sensed that Sirj was bristling. "How is it you came to be traveling with them, friend?" he asked quickly, hoping to keep the younger man from saying something they'd both regret.
"I'm their prisoner," the Eandi said. "I sold some of those crazy woman's baskets to a sept north of here, and the Fal'Borna hunted me down. Me and the lad there," he added, nodding toward the young Eandi. "Our one hope of winning our freedom was helping them kill the witch. But now you've done that for us, and I don't know what that means. Maybe they'll let us go; maybe they'll execute us. In either case, you should get away while you can. I don't care what the Forelander says: you can't trust the Fal'Borna."
He spurred his mount angrily and rode ahead of them.
"Do you believe him?" Sirj asked once the man was out of earshot. Besh considered this as he eyed their new companions. "Yes," he said. "I suppose I do."
"But he claims they're prisoners. What's to keep them…?" He trailed off. Besh could see him working it out. "Magic," he finally whispered. "Language of beasts, the threat of fire or shaping. That would be enough."
Besh nodded. "I should think so."
"Maybe he's right, then," Sirj said. "Maybe we should get away while we can."
"I think we're past that point already." Besh watched Grinsa briefly, noting that while he and the Fal'Borna rode together, they didn't speak. "Besides, I'm intrigued by the Forelander, by this entire company, actually. How did they all come to be journeying together? Even if we believe what the Eandi said, that doesn't explain why the Forelander is with them. It's all very odd."
"It's not our problem," Sirj said.
Besh shrugged. "No, it's not. But they seem intent on finding Lici's baskets, and that is our problem. If we're going to find a way to undo her curse, it might be helpful to have access to Qirsi magic, as well as our own."
Sirj regarded him briefly, then shook his head. "You have a better mind for these matters than I do. I hadn't thought of that."
"You would have soon enough."
Sirj smiled, and they rode on, following their new companions.
They rested a few times, seeking out the rills that flowed through this part of the plain, so that their horses could graze and drink, while they themselves ate a bit. The others said little during these respites, and Besh thought it best to follow their example. The two Eandi avoided one another, which surprised him, though their relationship seemed no more or less strained than that between the two Qirsi. The more Besh watched these four the more curious he grew.