The valleys are alive with the Dark. They're far thicker there than on the plains. King Eldor's son Altir has been taken to the old Keep of Dare in Renweth at Sarda Pass, where Chancellor Alwir has set up the government of what is left of the Realm. But they are hard-pressed, too,' Ingold went on, passing over the scene that Rudy and he had both glimpsed in the fire, the sight of Alwir and his troops turning aside the refugees of Penambra.
Kara nodded despairingly. 'I feared that,' she whispered. 'Have you heard of anywhere, anywhere at all...?'
'Possibly. Tomec Tirkenson, the landchief of Gettle-sand, has rebuilt the old Keep at Black Rock. I don't know how crowded they are there or how well supplied, but it may be, if you went there and threw yourselves on his mercy, he could give some of you a home.'
Kara glanced over her shoulder at the scruffy band of rangers at her back, and it seemed to Rudy that, without a word spoken, a motion was moved, passed, seconded, and voted a swift council of desperation that had nowhere else to go. Her eyes returned to Ingold. Thank you,' she said quietly. 'We will go there, and if he turns us away, at least it's better than remaining in Ippit to die.' She straightened her broad
shoulders and shook back her straight, heavy hair.
Tirkenson has a bad reputation with the Church,' Ingold told her. 'But he is a man of what mercy he can afford as Lord of Gettlesand and he knows the value of having a wizard in his Keep. Is your mother with you also?'
Kara nodded.
'And did she go to the school at Quo in her time?'
A rare glimmer of humour flashed behind those greenish eyes. 'And mix with all that highfalutin' booklarnin'? Not her.'
Ingold smiled, and the swift, sudden warmth of his expression captivated her completely. She continued to study him as if trying to place him. Her eyes changed from puzzlement to surprise and then to awe. She whispered, 'You're Ingold Inglorion.'
He sighed. That is my unfortunate fate.'
She was instantly covered in gawky confusion, like Gil when told that she'd done something right. 'I'm sorry, sir,' she stammered. 'I didn't realize...'
'Please,' Ingold begged her. 'You're making me feel horribly old.' He reached out and took her hands. 'One thing more, Kara. There's a band of White Raiders somewhere in the area - I think a hunting band some thirty strong. We came upon a magic-post two days ago. I'd suggest you double your guard and widen your point-men. The Raiders are afraid. They may want one of your people for another sacrifice and they're certainly going to want your sheep.'
One of the men in the group behind Kara asked worriedly, 'Afraid? What do they fear? The Dark? At the name of the Raiders, a whisper had passed through the train, like the smell of a wolf through a herd of cattle.
Well, Rudy thought, they're desert dwellers. Maybe some of them have seen the leftovers from the Raiders' propitiations of the local spooks.
'Possibly,' Ingold said. 'But the magic-post we found wasn't raised against the Dark. I have no idea what it is that they fear, but I do know that they fear it.'
Kara frowned thoughtfully. 'It's the wrong time of the year for fires,' she said. 'And it w ouldn't be ice storms this far south. Unless they're a deep-north band with no idea how far south they've come...'
'I should hesitate to believe that a band of Raiders, under any circumstances, has no idea where it is,' Ingold said. 'But I've seen the propitiations for all of those. It isn't any of them. Have you heard any rumour, any story, any hint of tracks or signs of anything else abroad in the lands?'
A bearded farmer with a longbow grinned. 'That would scare the Raiders? Maybe a million stampeding mammoth followed up by a flock of horrible birds, or a sun-cat with a thorn in its paw...'
Ingold shook his head and returned the grin. 'No - they don't make magic-posts against anything they can kill.'
'Disease?' the woman suggested doubtfully.
He hesitated. 'Maybe. But the Raiders have a rather simple way of dealing with disease.'
'Well,' she admitted. 'But in a big epidemic you can't leave everybody behind.'
'I seen 'em dump as many as twenty out of a band, ma'am, and that's a fact,' the farmer said, scratching his head. 'And there has been a lot of sickness and famine this winter, what with this consarn weather.'
'Maybe,' Ingold said again. 'But on the whole, the Raiders regard disease as an internal weakness of the will, rather than as an incursion from the outside. The Raiders don't see things the way we do. Sometimes they fear some very odd things. But in any case, there is something out there; and against it - and against all other ills of the road may you be safe, Kara of Ippit, and those who walk in your shadow.' Reaching out, he made a swift sign above her head. 'A good outcome to your journeyings.'
She smiled shyly and repeated his sign. 'And to yours sir.'
With this they parted, Rudy and Ingold continuing on their road, Kara and her village on theirs. The dust of the train swamped the two pilgrims, and they found themselves for a time surrounded in a white fog, moving among the crowding shapes of wagons, weaving among women, children, chickens, and goats. Craftsmen passed them with barrows full of tools, farmers bearing ploughs upon their backs, and makeshift warriors with swords and halberds. Dogs drove sheep along the fringes of the train, amid a faint, flat clatter of bells. More than one villager raised hands in greeting as the two wizards passed. An old granny knitting in the back of a wagon croaked cheerily, 'You're headed the wrong way, boys!' Kara's voice was faintly heard to exclaim in shocked disapproval, 'Mother!'
Rudy grinned. 'So that's an untaught mage, than which there's nothing in the world more dangerous?
'She knows her own limitations.' Ingold smiled at the memory of that shy, homely woman. 'As a rule, half-taught mages are worse even than the untaught, but she has the goodness of heart that wizards often lack. Among wizards she is an exception, in her way.'
'Is she?
Ingold shrugged. 'Wizards are not nice people, Rudy. Kindliness of heart is seldom the leading characteristic of a mage. Most of us are proud as Satan, especially those with only a few months' training. That's the reason for the Council. Something must exist to counterbalance the effects of the knowledge that you can, in fact, alter the paths of the universe. Haven't you felt it that euphoria that conies with knowing that you can braid fire in your hands and twist the winds of Heaven to your bidding?'
Rudy shot him an uneasy glance and met eyes that were far too knowing and a smile of wicked amusement at having read his mind. He grumbled unwillingly, 'Yeah -well - I mean, so what?'
The last of the herds was passing them, the whitish dust skating on the wind. Under a featureless sky, the stony emptiness stretched away to nothing. 'So what indeed?' Ingold smiled. 'Except that the ecstasy of power has a terrible way of getting out of hand. The Council and the Archmage have their work cut out for them to hold in check, not the power itself, but the souls of those who wield it.'
Rudy thought for a moment about that, remembering the feeling that had sprung to his heart when he called fire, the quick, gleeful sparkle of triumph when his illusions worked. And he saw suddenly the trailhead of a path that could lead to evil past contemplating. But it was evil he understood. It was seeking knowledge for the sake of knowledge and power for power's sake, leaving Minalde to search for his own destiny, and staying in that hidden chamber to fathom a crystal's mysteries, while Ingold faced death and the Keep's destruction outside. He saw in himself the potential for unchecked power.
Even as his mind shied from that thought, he wondered, Does Ingold feel it, too? Does Lohiro? Like a young and golden dragon, with those empty, glittering eyes, the picture of the Archmage returned to him. Has he wrestled with the ecstasy of unlimited horizons?