Edryn Delyne was less opulently dressed than when Orisian had last seen him in the harbourmaster’s house at Glasbridge. Then, on that pine-scented, wine-warmed night before Winterbirth, the Tal Dyreen had been a picture of elegance; now he wore the clothes of a working sailor. Still, his hair was clean and bright, and his beard was as neatly cropped and pointed as it could be.
He was sitting with two of his crew, nursing a pitcher of frothy ale. For just an instant, there was a flicker of surprise in his face as he recognised Orisian.
‘An unexpected meeting,’ the trader said. The clipped tones of the Tal Dyre cant spilled through into everything he said. ‘And if my eyes read the resemblance right, this might be the sister that I heard of? The last place to find the Lannis-Haig house, this.’
Orisian looked around hurriedly, but no one was paying them any attention. The couple of townsfolk within earshot were in no condition to eavesdrop. Nevertheless, he saw that Rothe was keeping a surreptitious watch on the inn’s other patrons.
‘I would be grateful if you kept our names to yourself,’ he murmured. ‘We are not known here, and it would seem best if it stayed that way.’
One of Delyne’s pale eyebrows twitched in wry amusement.
‘Ill at ease amongst these masterless folk, are we? Some sense in that. Few friends here for Lannis-Haig strays.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Orisian. ‘But we hope we shall not be here much longer. I was surprised to see your ship here, too. I thought you would be long gone on your way back south by now.’
‘Ah, would that I was,’ said Delyne with an elaborate sigh. ‘The music and warm breezes of Tal Dyre are a sweet thought, but trade’s an unforgiving master. No rest, no ease, for me and mine until all that needs to be done is done. Since we last met, I ported in Kolkyre. And what did I find in that noble city? A great desire for fine fox fur; the Furriers in despair at the shortage of material. And there am I knowing there’s furs to be had in cold Koldihrve, at a price no man would grudge. So one last run it is, in winter’s very teeth, before turning for home.’
‘You’re heading south soon, then,’ said Orisian, trying to sound casual.
‘Back to Kolkyre,’ the Tal Dyreen nodded. ‘Not what it once was, some say, but I say a fine city still.’
‘And might you have room for passengers?’ asked Anyara. Orisian sank back in his chair and watched as the Tal Dyreen captain ran frank, appraising eyes over Anyara’s face.
‘A load of pelts and hides in my hold,’ he mused. ‘Little comfort for the likes of you, my lady.’
‘We’ve had no comfort since Winterbirth, captain, and could do without it for a while longer.’
Delyne gave her a brief smile. Orisian noticed for the first time how white his teeth were.
‘Aye, no doubt. I heard some little whispers before I left Kolkyre: that ungentle times were come to your lands. Sad days. Still, space taken by you is space untaken by money in the making. A pretty mascot for a voyage you are, but there is none matches the beauty of coin.’
Orisian almost winced, beset by a premonitory image of Anyara emptying the Tal Dyreen’s pitcher over his head, but her warming smile barely flickered.
‘We understand, of course,’ she said. ‘You must be paid for board and lodging. That is only fair. We will turn our gratitude into hard coin, once we were safely back in harbour.’
Delyne looked around, taking in as if for the first time the smoke-blackened walls and the splitting and splintered floor-boards. He nodded thoughtfully.
‘Yes, a cold harbour this for fine folk. Tight corner, too. The wind tells me swords and spears come this way. A tight corner true enough, when there’s no boat here fit for the hard pull around the headland. No boat but one, at least.’
Anyara took the sea captain’s hand in hers, clutching it tight. ‘Indeed. We are in your hands, captain.’
Delyne gently eased himself free, ‘Well. Where is it you’re heading for?’
‘Kolglas, or Glasbridge,’ said Orisian. ‘It matters more that we go quickly than which one we make for.’
The Tal Dyreen took a long drink of ale, and licked the froth it left behind from his lips. He put on a gloomy face.
‘Off my track, those are. Not my planned course at all.’
‘Bring that jug with you,’ Orisian said. ‘We’ll fill it with silver after you put us ashore.’
After a moment Delyne gave the slightest of shrugs.
‘I’ll find a berth, of course, for Lannis-Haig. I cannot be waiting for you, mind. Been here a day longer than wished already, waiting for promised goods. They should be here tomorrow, or perhaps the day after, and we’ll be off sharply then.’
‘We are in some haste,’ said Orisian. ‘Gold instead of silver in that jug if we leave tonight.’
The Tal Dyreen affected a look of regret. ‘I’ve men ashore to be gathered. And the passage out to open water from here’s a narrow one, not kind to a vessel the size of mine. By choice I’d not attempt it in the dark. For that gold, though, I’ll take her out tomorrow, whether my holds are full or not. The tides will be friendly in the afternoon.’
Orisian felt a surge of frustration at the thought of another night’s delay. But if a Tal Dyreen said he feared to sail these waters in the dark, it must be right to listen.
‘Very well,’ he said. ‘Send for us. We’ll be at the house of a na’kyrim called Hammarn.’
‘Truly, it is remarkable company Lannis-Haig is keeping in these times,’ smiled Delyne. ‘One more matter for agreement: I’ll put you ashore wherever you wish, but only if I see safety all about me. A sniff of trouble upon the breeze and I’ll not risk one board of my ship or one hair off my men’s heads. Not for a hundred jugs filled with coin. You’ll ride with us all the way to Kolkyre if I say so.’
The deal was struck and Edryn Delyne took his crewmen away.
‘I remembered him rather better from Glasbridge,’ Orisian said.
‘He probably didn’t have so clear a chance of making a profit then,’ said Anyara. ‘You know what they say: a Tal Dyreen scenting gold is like a bear smelling honey. Best not to come between the two of them. In any case, it makes him reliable, doesn’t it?’
‘I’d sooner trust to something other than greed,’ sighed Orisian, ‘but it’s a safe enough bargain. Tal Dyreens wouldn’t do much trade in Glasbridge, or Kolkyre for that matter, if it was known he’d abandoned us here. He’ll be a loyal friend, if for no other reason than that.’
‘They also say that the only women safe around a Tal Dyreen are the dead and the dying, and the dying only sometimes,’ Rothe observed.
Anyara shrugged at that. ‘I can look after myself.’
Orisian smiled at the confidence in her voice. Anyara’s mood was lighter now that they were drawing closer to safety. The shadow beneath which they had toiled really might be lifting a little, and for the first time in weeks hope did not seem quite such an unreasonable thing.
No more than half a day’s march from Koldihrve, on the northern flank of the Car Criagar, a small hill rose from the thin forest. It was dotted with a few scrawny trees. Kanin had set up his camp on the short turf beneath these ragged sentinels.
The march over the mountains had been hard and fast, though plagued more by cold and snow than by the arrows of woodwights. There had been no sign of the Fox that Kanin had feared might impede their progress. That, he knew, was because of the hundreds of White Owls surging through the Car Criagar. There were corpses in the forest—tokens of the struggle between the clans—but the cresting wave of savagery was always somewhere ahead of the Horin-Gyre company. Some of the dead Kyrinin they found were mutilated or dismembered. There were men, women and children strung up in trees or impaled upon the ground. A part of Kanin was disgusted at the thought of marching in the tracks of blood-frenzied woodwights. Only the greater need kept his feet on the path: until the children of Kennet nan Lannis-Haig were taken, the task he had promised to undertake was incomplete. The butchery the White Owls spread through the forest served that promise, speeding his descent upon Koldihrve.