Late in the day, as they rested along the banks of a small rill, Jastanne approached them, leading her mount on foot, the wind making her hair dance, the setting sun gleaming like gold in her eyes. In spite of herself, Nitara could see what the Weaver might find attractive in this woman.
“Hello,” she called to them as she approached, a hand raised in greeting.
B’Serre and the others nodded, and Rov called out a tentative “Hello” in return.
“I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“Not at all, Chancellor.”
She smiled, though it never reached her eyes. “Good. The Weaver asked me to speak with you. He intends to divide the army into smaller forces, and he’s placed Uestem and me in charge of doing so.”
“Has he really,” Nitara said, her voice flat.
Gorlan shot her a look, and gave a small shake of his head, but Nitara ignored him.
“You’ve been with us for less than a day, and already we’re to take orders from you?”
The smile lingered on Jastanne’s face as she eyed Nitara. Then she turned to the rest of them. “Shapers are to go with Uestem, as are those with fire magic. If you have mists and winds or language of beasts, you’re to stay with me. And if your powers place you with both of us, follow the deeper magic-if you have mists but also fire, stay with me, language of beasts and shaping, go with Uestem.”
“Yes, Chancellor,” Gorlan said. “Thank you.”
“We’ll ride a bit further today. We’ll divide into units tonight when we stop. Uestem will be on the west end of camp, and I’ll be to the east.”
The others nodded, and the woman’s smile broadened.
“I don’t know how all this will separate out, but I look forward to working with as many of you as possible.” She started to walk away, then halted, glancing back over her shoulder at Nitara. “Minister, would you walk with me for a moment?”
Nitara almost refused. She would have given anything for the courage to tell this woman exactly how much she hated her. But Jastanne was the Weaver’s chancellor, and Nitara knew that he would be furious with her. Besides, having both mists and winds and language of beasts, Nitara would be under the woman’s command. What could she do but follow? She knew the others were watching her, wondering if she had already pushed the chancellor too far, but Nitara didn’t look back at them.
“The Weaver has told me a good deal about you,” Jastanne said, when they were alone.
“Has he?”
“Yes. He tells me that you’ve served him quite well since joining the movement. He said you even killed an old lover who betrayed us.”
Quite unexpectedly, she found herself angry with the Weaver. She had never thought she could feel such a thing, but it was not his place to tell this woman what had happened with Kayiv. “What of it?” she demanded.
Jastanne stopped and stared at her, that smile on her lips once more. “You don’t care much for me, do you?”
Nitara looked away. “I hardly know you.”
“I could make the same point.”
“Was there something you wanted, Chancellor? A reason why you pulled me away from my friends?”
“I sense your hostility, Minister. I did before as well. And I want to know if I need to speak with the Weaver about this, if it compromises your ability to serve his movement.”
Nitara felt the color drain from her cheeks. “No, Chancellor.”
The woman regarded her for several moments. “What is it about me, Minister? Why do you hate me so?”
She shook her head. “It’s not … I don’t hate you.”
“Now you’re lying.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“Wouldn’t I? Or are you afraid that I would, all too well?” The smile again, kinder this time. “You love him very much, don’t you?”
“I don’t want to talk about this.”
“There are others, you know. There are women in every realm who serve this movement. Do you really believe that you’re the only one who feels this way about him?”
“No,” she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Look at him,” the woman went on. “Do you really think that a man like that-a Qirsi king-will take but one wife? How many women did your emperor have?”
Nitara shrugged. “I don’t know. Several.”
“Yes. And so will the Weaver. You may well be one of them. And I might as well. We’re going to have to get along, you and I, not only during this war, but after it. So I’d suggest you put your hatred aside. The Weaver feels that you could be of value as a noble once we control the Forelands. You’d be a fool to do anything to change his mind.”
“I understand, Chancellor.”
“I have others to inform of our plans. We should be riding again shortly.”
Before Nitara could even nod to her, Jastanne turned and walked away, lithe and confident. Nitara watched her go, then started toward her mount, having no desire to face her companions again. Before she reached her horse, however, she heard Gorlan calling to her. She stopped, closing her eyes for just a moment.
“What?” she said, looking at the other Qirsi.
“Are you mad?” Gorlan asked, stopping just in front of her. “You can’t afford to anger that woman, no matter what you might think of her.”
“I know that, Gorlan,” she said crossly. “Thank you.”
“What did she say to you?”
“Basically the same thing you just did.”
“Well, you’d better listen. I don’t even understand why you’re so angry with her. What could she have possibly done to you?”
“Nothing, Gorlan. Nothing at all. Just leave me alone.”
He frowned, shaking his head. After a moment he left her, as did several of the others. Only B’Serre remained with Nitara.
“I think I understand,” the minister said softly. “And I don’t really blame you.”
Nitara raked a hand through her hair. “I’m a fool. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“Sure you do. It seems pretty normal to me. Clearly the Weaver thinks highly of you. You were the one riding beside him before the chancellors arrived.” She gave a conspiratorial smile. “If I were you, I’d hate her, too.”
Nitara had to grin. “Watch what you say. You’ll get yourself in trouble.”
They stood in silence for some time, the smiles lingering on their faces. Nitara stared at the ground, uncertain of what to say next. She had few friends to speak of. Kayiv had been a friend once, before he began to share her bed. Before she killed him. She would never have been so bold as to call the Weaver a friend, but other than Dusaan, she had spoken to few people in the past several turns. She wasn’t quite certain how to behave around this woman who had gone out of her way to declare her friendship. She knew only that she didn’t want to do anything to drive B’Serre away.
“Gorlan’s probably right, you know,” the minister said at length, drawing Nitara’s gaze. “You shouldn’t anger her again. I don’t think you want her as an enemy.”
Nitara gave a small laugh. “It might be too late for that.” When B’Serre didn’t respond, she grew serious again. “I know. I’ll be careful.”
A short time later, the chancellors called for the army to ride on, and soon they were thundering across the moor again, their shadows stretching eastward in the dying light of the sun. When they stopped for the night, Nitara followed Jastanne to the eastern side of the camp. Most of the others who had ridden with her from Curtell, including B’Serre, Gorlan, and Rov, went to the other side, further darkening her mood.
Once the army had been divided, the chancellors began to divide it a second time between those who possessed the two magics each would command. A few on Jastanne’s side had both language of beasts and mists and winds. As before, she instructed them to follow the deeper magic. When Nitara started toward the group with mists, however, the chancellor stopped her.