'Vandien.' Ki's voice was as hoarse as it had earlier been clear. 'Please. Don't. You'll only get us both killed.'
'And that matters to you? First sensible thing we've heard out of you. A little more water might do you good, if we had the time. But we don't. And you, with the rain running into your mouth and soaking into your skin. Try to use your own brain. Listen to her. Don't be stupid.'
Vandien's grip on the rapier had firmed. He strained his eyes, trying to be aware of every small move the Brurjan made. But the night was dark, the falling rain muffled the softer sounds of her movements, and her horse was shifting restlessly under her. As her stout forearm lashed out and cleared him from his horse, he realized belatedly that she had been guiding her horse in with small commands from her heels. He lit in briars and mud, struggling to rise and draw his weapon at the same time. But Hollyika's horse was already between him and Ki, its eyes shining wickedly. 'Did you tell the Limbreths yet?' Hollyika pressed Ki, and when there was no reply, she leaned down to grip her by the hair. 'Did you tell them?'she snarled, yanking her head up so she saw the bared knife before her eyes.
'Yes!' Ki gasped. 'I don't need to tell them. They hear all, they know all.'
Vandien had stepped lightly as they spoke, working his way around her horse. But Hollyika swung her attention back to him, and with a curse sent her beast lunging at him. He retreated, the treacherous briars tripping him. He fell heavily onto his back, clutching his rapier before him. The horse was coming on, but Ki's voice suddenly cried out, 'The Gate! The Gate!'
Vandien waited for death, the rain splashing on him, his rapier a tiny sting that would only madden the horse that loomed over him. But the Brurjan had checked at Ki's cry. She glared angrily down at Vandien, and glanced back to Ki. Ki shook her head to fling the wet hair from her face. 'Over there!' she cried, tossing her head in the direction.
'I'll be damned. They came around pretty quick.'
The Gate was visible as a red shining through the trees. The light was dim, a blackened red, but in this place of darkness it shone like a beacon. Hollyika's teeth flashed suddenly at Vandien in a menacing smile. 'Get up!' she laughed at him. 'We're getting out of here.'
'What about me?' Ki gasped. 'Let me go. At least, let me sit up.'
Hollyika appraised her silently as the rain fell all around them. 'Let her up,' she grunted at last to Vandien.
He scrabbled to his feet, still keeping an eye on the black horse, and moved to Ki. Sheathing his rapier, he drew his belt knife and cut the bonds at her ankles. He eased her down onto her feet, holding her upright until she could take her own weight. She gripped the torn shoulder of his shirt to keep her balance.
'Water?' he asked her softly.
She shook her head slightly. Then she sighed and nodded regretfully. 'The rain is only enough to tease. My throat is so dry I'd drink anything. All my ribs feel cracked.'
'Bruised is all, more likely.' He grabbed the waterskin for her and unstoppered it. Hollyika sat on her horse sullenly, watching Ki sip, and then take a mouthful. She pushed the skin back abruptly into Vandien's hands. 'Tastes like swamp muck,' she complained, but her voice was stronger.
Vandien opened his mouth to speak, but Hollyika cut in. 'Put her back on the horse.' She had already taken Sigurd's lead line and was toying with the end of it. Vandien boosted Ki up, but she had to scramble for her own seat among the bags strapped to the big grey. Ki gave a nod when all was settled, and Vandien moved to Sigmund.
'I think Ki is feeling ...'
'Oh , shut up!' Hollyika snapped. 'What you think and what she feels have no bearing on anything. The Gate is there. Follow me.'
It proved to be farther off than expected. Or perhaps, Vandien mused to himself, it is retreating before us as we go. The fancy didn't please him. They followed the light like a kitten after a string. Was theLimbreth toying with them to gain time to muster a large force of peasants? He had no inkling of just how far the powers of the Limbreth reached. Had they, as Hollyika suspected, sent the rain that drenched them, in the hopes of discouraging them into obedience? The road had certainly fallen to their will, and the farmers. He crouched low over Sigmund's neck, trying to keep clear of the low branches that threatened to sweep him off. They followed no path at all now. Hollyika led them in and out of thickets; the horses stumbled over roots and pushed through low brush. The red light grew ever larger, but was always slashed by tree trunks and branches. Vandien stared ahead at it, until he saw it even when he blinked.
NINETEEN
You heard me, Rebeke. They don't wish to go back now. Neither of them. You don't have to believe me, though. You can ask them for yourself, as long as you're careful not to tire Jace. She's the sickly one now. The boy has come around fine. He's a quick learner, that one. You should see the place he's made for himself down cellar. Remember how you used to knead the dough for me? Well, that boy ...'
'Where is Jace?' Rebeke cut in smoothly. She was in no mood to be reminded of a past that was no longer connected to her present, but Mickle marked the worry lines alien to the smoothness of her Windsinger countenance. Changed as she was, he could still read the weariness and tension that weighted her.
'Have a cup of tea first,' he suggested boldly. 'Or a sip of wine.'
Rebeke almost turned to the caring in his voice. Why shouldn't she? A cup of wine at table with the old man, forget for just a while about Limbreths and Gates and the balancing of worlds. No. Time was power, to be seized now or surrendered forever. 'I cannot, Mickle,' she said in a soft but fully melodic voice. 'For a moment we could pretend, but in the end we would both regret it. There is no recapturing the past. Let me see Jace now.'
The last words were uttered in the tone of the Windsinger that would take no refusal. The old man's shoulders slumped. He gestured toward a door. 'She's within. Let me tell her you want to talk to her.'
She watched the door hanging drop behind him and wondered what he would say to her. That an old friend of his had come to call, or that a Windmistress had come to question her? Did it matter? Only when she came here did she feel these twinges of regret for the choices she had made and the thing she had become. Dresh had never made her rue her decision, though she sometimes wished he could understand it. But here? She didn't want Mickle's admiration for all she had made of herself, let alone his awe at her powers. He was the only one who ever made her wish to be loved because she was Rebeke. It was a mistake to come here.
He was back in an instant, swinging the door hanging aside and waving her within. Jace, pillowed in luxury on Mickle's wide bed, reminded Rebeke of a pressed flower. The color was still there, in the hair and eyes and skin, but she was drained to a papery dryness. Her aristocratic hands had only the strength to cling to the edge of the coverlet. Mickle stood over her, easing her back onto yet another pillow. The eyes she turned to Rebeke were dull, incapable of being surprised by anything.
'Now don't be asking her too many questions, now. You can see how she is; scarcely the strength of a drowned kitten. But she'll come back to herself; Mickle will see to that.' He cocked his head to addressJace in bed. 'This is the Windsinger I've told you about, my Rebeke. Now she wants to ask you some questions, and you do your best to answer. But all you have to do is let me know when you're tired and we'll stop.' Having finished plumping the pillows, he was now fussily smoothing the coverlet, twitching it into precise flatness over the bed as if it were a tablecloth he was smoothing. From that he went to pour her a fresh glass of water from a pitcher at a stand beside the bed. He peeked over at Rebeke as he did so, kept his eyes on her as he carefully put the glass within reach of the invalid, and she stared back at him levelly. Finally he straightened up with a sigh and stood before her. ' Well, aren't you going to ask her?'