When we finally got to the fifty-foot clearing between the buildings and stalls of the city and the wall around the palace grounds, Leelan ignored the guards we were approaching while Deegor casually looked them over. Her immediately suppressed flash of disappointment told me that something hadn’t happened that the disguised w’wenda had been hoping for, and it wasn’t long before we all found out what that was. Rather than letting us through the gate without comment, one of the guards stepped directly into Leelan’s path.
“And what is it you wish here, girl?” the guard w’wenda asked Leelan, sounding polite enough but inwardly enjoying a private joke. “Do you wish to see the Chama?”
“I have been commanded to appear before the Chama,” Leelan answered tightly, finding no difficulty at all in pretending to be angry and trying to keep from being insulted. “As you know this as well as I, you may now step aside.”
“Ah, yes, so I do,” the woman agreed lazily, standing not quite as high as Leelan but feeling a good deal larger. “You come here upon command, and for a specific purpose. For what reason is that slave not collared?”
The guard’s eyes had gone to Dallan in appraisal, she obviously feeling pleased that he made no attempt to meet her gaze., but Leelan didn’t bother turning around.
“The slave will be collared should Farian decide to accept him,” she answered, this time working a little harder at sounding stiff and angry-rather than just short of upset. “He is a gift I have brought for the Chama, one I believe will please her. Do you mean to keep us standing about here till darkness has fallen?”
“By no means,” the woman answered, and then she deliberately brought her eyes back to Leelan with a nasty grin on her face. “I would not be the cause of delaying the Chama’s pleasure, girl, for she is eager indeed to inform you of which country she will very soon make an alliance with. The gift you bring is certain to sway her not in the least—which is a great pity for you. You may now enter.”
The woman stepped back, still grinning her amusement shared by the rest of the yellow-clad guard w’wendaa, and just for an instant Leelan didn’t move. Her mind was so clouded with fury that I was sure she was about to draw her weapon, but apparently some people are stronger than their emotions. After the instant of hesitation she simply started forward through the gate, and the rest of us came after her. Dallan was treated to the sort of caress he wasn’t used to getting as he passed the woman who had been doing the talking, but all his startlement did was increase the laughter around us. We left the wall behind as we moved across the grounds toward the palace, some of us noticing that the sun had grown so warm we were sweating, and once we were out of earshot of the guard w’wendaa, Deegor put her hand to Leelan’s shoulder.
“There is but one thing you need bear in mind, sister,” she said in a voice low enough to carry to Leelan and us but not beyond. “That is the gate through which Siitil and her wild ones will enter.”
Leelan’s mind flared with such savage delight, that I nearly flinched back behind my curtain. After that her anger seemed to settle down, and the rest of us could go back to breathing normally again. Or, at least I could; no one else in the group seemed bothered that we’d been that close to starting the fighting early. The fact that I alone was unable to use a sword undoubtedly had nothing to do with the way I felt; the fact that I might have had to use one anyway was more to the point.
We were nodded through into the palace itself by another couple of yellow-clad guards, but this time Deegor’s mind was pleased to see them. That a good number of the guards were on our side would mean nothing if the Hand of Power wasn’t knocked out, and it came to me with a shock that their almost-constant buzz hadn’t been chipping at me for a while. We only had a short time to get to where we were going, and then it was all up to me. Being in the middle of the four w’wendaa kept me from slowing down, but it didn’t keep the wig and headband I wore from suddenly growing tighter and more confining.
We took our parade up and down corridors and halls, constantly oozing the attitude that we were only where we belonged, and the most notice we got was a glance or two from those we passed. I couldn’t decide if walking about openly was less nerve-wracking than sneaking around alone in the dead of night, but another revelation suddenly came to me. The first time Leelan had asked me to head that revolution, I’d refused, and she had never asked again. Somehow I seemed to have almost-floated-into the place I then was, a very familiar feeling on that world. Rimilians didn’t seem to take no for an answer, a trait obviously common to male and female alike.
We came at last to one corridor more deserted than the others we’d been through, one that made everyone else almost as tense as I was. No one went into the corridor who didn’t belong there, and getting caught would have meant trouble. Deegor immediately went down to one knee and began messing with the strap on her left sandal, an excuse for our standing still outside one particular door. Three of our four w’wendaa had already gone through that door, and we couldn’t follow until they’d checked things out.
After what couldn’t have been much more than a minute—but seemed like an hour-later, one of the three was back at the door, gesturing us inside. We lost no time in getting through the doorway, and once the door had been closed behind us I looked around at our temporary refuge. White rock made up the walls and ceiling, but under our feet was white fur carpeting. Yellow silk draped part of the walls and curtained the windows, the small tables set here and there were beautifully carved dark wood, and the various decorations hung at a few points on the walls were also dark. The room was expensively done up for someone of supposedly refined taste, but something seemed to be missing.
“As this apartment is and has been untenanted, none should arrive to disturb us,” Leelan said, making no effort to look around. “Roodar’s apartment lies beyond the wall of the sleeping room, more accessible to us than she knows. Once the Hand is seen to, we will begin by calling on her.”
I realized then that Leelan was talking primarily to me, and also suddenly understood what her words really meant. Tammad was right then no more than a room away from me, close enough to be helped, close enough to be freed. Without even thinking about it I was abruptly facing the dark wood door in the right hand wall that undoubtedly led to the apartment’s sleeping room, but Leelan’s hand came to my shoulder before I could take a single step.
“Terril, you must recall that it may not be done yet,” she said very gently, surely knowing what I was thinking, compassion clear in her every word. “Should Roodar learn of our presence before the Hand is seen to, she may in some manner succeed in alerting the guard. There are not a sufficient number of us to adequately protect you against concerted attack, and should you go down without having seen to the Hand-”
Then the game was over for everyone, Tammad included, I finished in my mind when she let it trail off, my eyes still held by that dark wood door. You might be able to blast the first half dozen or so to come at you, Terry, but what about the ones behind them? The idea of dying is only somewhat upsetting, but what if you die before Tammad is safe? Giving your life for him would be no terribly great sacrifice, but being patient is absolute hell, isn’t it? You’ve talked a lot about the need for self-control and how well you thought you were progressing with it; how about giving one short, decisive example of what you think you’ve accomplished?