Later when I returned to the house, I found her chopping ramsroot for supper. She seemed in a fine mood, and when I asked about her conversation with the Qirsi merchant, she acted as though she couldn't remember what they had discussed. I know better, of course. She remembers everything. But I didn't push her
It is another mystery-one among so many. Yet, I'm certain that we're getting closer Soon, very soon, I'll hear the rest of her dark tale. And no doubt, upon hearing it, I'll wonder why I was ever so eager for the truth.
Another gap followed: more than twenty days to Sylpa's next entry. That one told Besh nothing, nor did the next two. But at last, in the third after this second gap, he found what he'd been seeking.
Memory Moon, fourth day of the waxing, 1147.
It snowed again today, small, sharp flakes that stung like blown sand when the wind raged. I can hear the storm still. The snow scratches like claws at my door and walls, and the wind howls like some wild beast loosed upon Elined's earth by Bian himself.
But we've plenty of wood piled by the hearth, and the house is warm enough. I had to venture out briefly to see the herbmistress, and even after I'd returned and been inside for an hour or two, I still felt that I'd never be warm again. But blankets, and a fire and a warm cup of tea have warmed me once more.
Licaldi is asleep now, though she lay awake for a long time, and her sleep has been fitful. Her fever has yet to break and her face looks pale and thin. Three days she's been ill and I have to admit that I fear for her The healer says she'll be fine, that if it was something truly dangerous she would have grown far worse by now, but still I worry. And why shouldn't I? I know now beyond doubt that she is alone in the world except for me. More, I know that I would be lost without her We are bound to one another for as long as I shall live. And at last, after today, I know how this came to be.
Throughout the day, the poor girl had convinced herself that she was dying, that this fever was kin to the one that struck her village, and would be the end of her I tried to tell her that this wasn't so and that she'd soon be well and running around the house as she usually did. But the scars from her past run deep, and she was inconsolable. And in the midst of her despair, she decided that the time had come to tell me all that she had been keeping from me. Though I tried to reassure her about her prospects for recovery, I did nothing to dissuade her in this regard, and so at last I have heard her story.
It is as dark a tale as I imagined it would be, and it explains so much that has come before. Licaldi swore me to secrecy, though I tried to tell her that she need not be ashamed or feel guilty. But I write it all down here-in her own words as best as I can remember them-lest she wish to share her secret with another someday without having to endure the pain of relating it again herself
"I was at the river most of that day," she began, staring up at our ceiling, tears flowing from the corners of her eyes and wetting the pillow on which her head rested. "I'd done my chores early, and was at the river, fishing with my friend Sosli. Even after she went home, because she was hungry, I stayed at the river. It was such a nice day, and I had no other chores to do." She looked at me then. "So, I didn't know. I swear it. I didn't know."
"It's all right, child," I told her smoothing her hair, which was damp with sweat. "I believe you."
"After a while I got hungry," she went on, crying still. "And it seemed late, and I was wondering why Mama hadn't called for me yet. So, I walked home, carrying my fish. I'd caught three, and I was so proud. I wanted to show Papa, 'cause he'd taught me." She smiled faintly through her tears, but then appeared to catch herself, and grew serious once more. "That's when I found out they were sick.
"Your family?"
She nodded. "Mama, Papa, Kytha, Baetri. And others as well. Nearly everyone in the village. I even think Sosli got sick."
"Were they…? How bad off were they?"
"They weren't dead yet, if that's what you mean. I only saw Mama. She was outside in front of the house… I think she'd just thrown up. And I could hear Kytha and Baet crying in the house.
"I started running to Mama, but she yelled at me to stop. She said I couldn't come in the house, or even get near it, or else I'd get sick, too. She asked me if I felt all right, and I said I did. I asked her what it was-what was wrong with her I think I knew already, but I was hoping that I was wrong. But then she said it was the pestilence, and I knew that all of us were going to die.
"Except I didn't get sick. I sat outside the house, listening to my sisters crying, and waiting for the pestilence to get me, too, but it didn't. Papa came out at one point and talked to me. I think he was trying to pretend that everything was fine. He asked me about the fishing, and said nice things about the ones I'd caught. But he didn't come near me and he didn't look good. He was sweating, and his face looked grey, and there was sick on the front of his shirt.
"I asked him if I could come in the house and help them, but he said that Mama was right, that I had to stay outside. I asked him where the healers were, and he said that he'd sent for a healer but with so many people sick it would take time for her to get there. He said that Mettai magic wasn't strong enough to help us, but they'd sent someone south to one of the Fal'Borna settlements along the wash, hoping that the Qirsi would send healers. Qirsi magic might work, even against the pestilence.
"So I waited some more. It started to get dark, and still no one came. And then I started to hear thunder and the sky started to cloud over and I got scared. I don't like thunder, and I wanted to go inside. But Mama still said that I couldn't. I couldn't hear my sisters anymore, and I was afraid they were dead already, but Mama promised me that they weren't, that they were just sleeping, which was good for them. But she was getting worse, and so was Papa. I could tell. And no healers were coming, and it started getting windy and colder
"So finally, Mama said that I should go south to the Qirsi and bring back healers. She told me that probably whoever had been sent before hadn't made it there. Probably he'd gotten sick like the rest and hadn't been able to go on. But I wasn't getting sick, and she didn't think that I would. So, I should go. I could save the village, she said. I could be everyone's hero. Papa came out and made me a torch. He took care not to touch the part I'd be holding, and he lit it for me, so that I wouldn't have to go inside to the fire. They told me to run to the marketplace and shout to everyone what I was going to do, so they'd know that someone was getting help for them. And then they said I should go as quickly as I could because storms were coming, and people in the village were getting worse.
"I was crying, 'cause I didn't want to leave them. But I did what they told me to do. I ran to the marketplace and shouted, and then I left Sentaya and walked to the Fal'Borna settlements. I had my torch, but it was starting to rain. The wind was blowing hard, and I was cold and the lightning and thunder scared me. And it was so dark."
She started to cry again, great sobs escaping her until she could barely breathe, and I tried to comfort her, telling her that it was all right, and that anyone would have been scared. But she shook her head. She even pushed me away, which she almost never does.
"You don't understand," she said. "I went to the bridge-there's an old stone bridge near Sentaya. It crosses the Silverwater into Qirsi land."