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and studied the wound in the smith s shoulder. The boy blinked and stayed put
on the foot of the bedroll.  You really took a gash here, she mumbled.  I m
glad I brought some dressings.
He sat quietly as she lit a small candle and used its light to see as she
began to clean and bind both shoulder wounds. Around them the darkness grew,
and the whuffing of the bandits mounts breathing diminished as the insect
chorus swelled, backed by the sound of the stream.
 I can tell we re not going anywhere for a day or two.
 I ll ride tomorrow.
 No, you won t.
 Wah-dah? asked Weryl.
 In a moment, Nylan said, his night vision taking in again the carnage
that surrounded the crude way station. Even in leaving Westwind, they didn t
seem to be able to get away from violence-from the fact that force determined
destiny. He started to shake his head.
 Don t move. I still have to clean out the rest of this mess. Let me see
that arm.
Nylan raised his right arm, and the redhead peeled back the sleeve
slightly. Nylan could feel her reordering the fields around his wounds and
using her skills and senses to push back the whitish chaos of infection.
 You ve never gotten this beaten up before, she said.
 You try fighting with a carrypak, the smith offered wryly,  and with
Weryl flailing around. He took a deep breath.  I need to figure out some
other way to carry him before long.
 Always the engineer.
Nylan wished he could be just an engineer, or even a smith. Instead, he
found himself using blades. He did shake his head. Who was he deceiving? Even
the U.F.F. had only wanted his destructive skills as a combat power engineer.
Would it ever be different?
 There. Ayrlyn rose.  Now I need to see about the horses and the purses of
those brigands.
 Are you all right? he asked.  I can t see very well.
 Bruised-some little gashes. Nothing like you. A ragged smile crossed her
lips.
 I can help.
 No, you can t. You just watch Weryl. You ve lost more blood than you
think.
Weryl looked toward Nylan.  Wah-dah?
Ayrlyn fumbled with the harness on Nylan s mare and handed him the bottle.
 Thank you, he said, unstoppering it and offering it to his son, trying
not to wince as he bent forward.
Ayrlyn started toward one of the bandit horses, her steps heavy in the
gloom.
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XXV
I DO NOT think your stratagem was terribly effective, said Gethen, looking
over at his daughter and his grandson.  This scroll-it promises to flay us for
our discourtesy, with all the might of Cyador.
 No one else had a better one. Zeldyan laughed, a trace of bitterness
creeping into her tone. Nesslek sat in a small chair and grabbed at pieces of
biscuit as she offered them.  We would be flayed anyway, discourtesy or not.
How come your efforts to gather levies and armsmen?
 Those in Cerlyn and the south are willing. They will even offer more than
the required levies. Gethen snorted.  Their memories are long. They recall
the old days when any woman could be bought as a concubine and any father who
protested executed.
 I think they remember the executions more than the dishonored daughters.
Zeldyan sliced a small corner of a pearapple and offered it to her son.
Nesslek rolled it around his mouth before finally swallowing.
 Sadly, daughter, I would have to agree, but we must take any way station
possible in this storm.
 Have you heard from Fornal?
 No. I fear he will have difficulty in obtaining any armsmen from Dosai.
 Could he not use the levies for the border patrol with Jerans? Her eyes
went to the window and the thunderstorm that had rolled out of the southeast.
 I suggested that to him, and that may free a few good armsmen, but we will
have to leave some there for seasoning and expertise.
 You still do not trust Ildyrom? She took a few sections of pastry herself
and ate slowly, then sipped cold greenjuice from the goblet.
 Ahhhh&  Nesslek reached for the goblet.
 This is your mother s, Zeldyan said firmly, looking toward her own
father.  I will feed you more later.
 Sillek did not, and I did not, and I see no reason to change my views.
Gethen coughed.  Ildyrom will show the sharp side of his blade again when it
suits his needs.
 As will most holders and lords, Zeldyan said, more to herself than her
sire.
Gethen raised his eyebrows, but did not answer.
XXVI
NYLAN TURNED IN the mare s saddle and glanced back to the east at the
tree-covered hills that concealed most of the rocky and ice-covered peaks of
the Westhorns. He almost shook his head. Eight days, or was it nine? But three
had been spent recovering from the bandit attack.
 Darkness&  he murmured, shifting Weryl in the carrypak. His son seemed to
grow heavier with each kay they rode, and he hadn t been really carrying Weryl
much until the last day or so. With his bad shoulder, Ayrlyn had done most of
that.
 Do you want me to take him? You shouldn t overdo it. Ayrlyn turned her
eyes from the tether to the gray that followed with the extra packs on it. The
other bandit horse that hadn t fled had been so lame that they had left the
beast free.
 Overdo it? I haven t done much of anything except ride.
 You did enough in the last two years for three people. Why are you so hard
on yourself?
 We ve actually ridden six days, Nylan said, to change the subject.  Did
it take you this long on your trading runs?
 Five to this point, I think. But we also didn t run into bandits, and we
didn t have to stop so often.
 I can t ride if he s uncomfortable, Nylan admitted.  Not hard-hearted
enough, I guess.
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 It s been hard for me, too, Ayrlyn admitted.  I sense when he doesn t
feel good. Or when you don t.
 My sensitive healer. In medically primitive Candar, Nylan had again
become very glad she had that talent. At times his shoulder didn t even hurt.
 Just remember that. You re also my sensitive engineer, mage, and smith.
 I still don t know about the mage part.
 You re a mage. Don t fight it. The healer studied the forest to the left,
the south side of the road.  More broad-leafed trees there. You can tell we re
lower.
After Nylan blotted his forehead in the still air, his eyes went to the
clear blue-green sky.  It s hotter.
 It s getting comfortable.
 By the time you re comfortable, I ll be roasted or broiled& or something.
He cleared his throat.  We still haven t seen anyone.
 There were sheep in the meadows between the woods up ahead, last fall. It
might be early for that, yet. I don t know. The redhead stood in the stirrups
for a moment.
 Stiff? the engineer asked.
 A little.
 You weren t last night.
Ayrlyn flushed.  You are impossible. After a wound like that& I wouldn t
have believed-
 You re a good healer.
 Too good& 
Nylan s mare whuffed as the road curved to the north around a hill crowded
with evergreens bearing grayish green needles. Nylan patted her shoulder, then
Weryl s back. The boy squirmed, and jabbed a heel into Nylan s diaphragm. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]