Maks raised his brows at that, but didn’t ask for explanations. He closed his eyes, turned his head from side to side. After a minute, he said. “Today, tomorrow, I think. Day after that we can move.” He pushed the blankets off and got to his feet. He was steadier, visibly stronger.
Simms finished sewing a button on his shirt, tied off the thread and cut it with one of his sleeve knives. “Tea on the stove. More soup, should be ready by now.” He rolled a knot in the end of the thread, turned the shirt inside out and started examining the seams.
Maks wandered out. Simms could hear him talking to the mules. He came back in the kitchen, looked through his packs, found a currycomb and a stone and went out again. A little later as Simms was putting a new edge on the frayed hems of his trousers, he heard splashing in the straffill, Maks whistling a cheerful tune. Maks came in, glanced at him, went to the stove and filled his mug. He looked at the tea. “You sure this isn’t going to crawl out and jump me?”
“Wake y’ up.”
“One way or another. You’ve had a busy morning.”
“Help the time pass, keeping y’ hands busy. ‘Sides, I been puttin’ off a lotta this, might’s well catch up while we stuck here.”
Maks nodded. “Not a bad idea.” He ladled out a pannikin of soup, glanced at Simms. “Want some?”
“After I
Maksim brought him the tea, fetched the pannikin and ate his soup while he squatted beside Simms and watched him set small neat stitches.
Simms was quietly happy; he said nothing because he felt no need to talk, and he was pleased that Maks seemed equally comfortable with the silence. He finished one cuff and began on the other. Maks set the pannikin down and sipped at the tea. The fire flickered and shadows swayed around them in a slow hypnotic dance, the wind howled and icemelt drafts whispered through the room. Maks set the mug down and gave Simms’ shoulder a squeeze, got to his feet and wandered out again.
He was back a moment later with the mules’ harness, some rags and a bottle of oil. After some maneuvering, he settled at the edge of the hearth, pulled a blanket round his shoulders and began working oil into the leather, cleaning it and working supple the places where the damp had stiffened it. Filled with the small peaceful sounds of their labor, the hiss and snap of the fire with the muted noised of the storm as background, the silence wrapped like a blanket about the two men as they went on with their work. Finally Maks spoke, his voice lazy and undemanding. “Arsuid’s a long way south of here.”
Simms chuckled, a small soft sound. “Y’ mean I got rocks in m’ head ridin’ into this kinda weather.” He glanced at Maks, met his eyes and looked away from the laughter in them, not because he didn’t like it, he liked it far too much. “C’d say the same, don’ y’ think?”
“So you could. Never visited Arsuid. What’s it like?”
“Yesta’day. Ev’ry yesta’day.”
Maks thought about that a minute. “I see what you mean. It can get boring if nothing changes.”
“‘Pends where y’ sit.”
“More so on whether you’re a sitter or sat on.”
“Y’ know ‘t.”
“Spite of that, Arsuiders seem to stay put.”
“T’s so. Arfon, he like to keep his folk hoverin’ round. Way I got loose, well, y’ might say I was flung out.”
“Feel like telling it, or is it none of my business?”
Simms tucked the needle into the cloth, dropped his hands and frowned at the fire. “Don’ know the whole, ‘s more confusin’ than entertainin’.” He snapped thumb against middle finger, shook his head. “Here tis. Arfon got a itch for a talisman of Is own. He a jeaaalous god, yehhh. An’ there was this sorceror came by, call hisseif Lazul. Turn out, wan’t so.”
“Sorceror, hmm. Did you ever find out what his name was?”
“After, yeh. Danny. Laz was for th’ duration, what he said.”
“Danny. Danny Blue?”
“Dunno. Might be. ‘Staffel trap him, me, a couple more, fill us fulla poison. Say go get Klukesharna, we wipe you clean when y’ give her to us.”
“Not nice.”
“Nah, that tisn’t.” Simms grinned at Maks, went back to watching the fire. “You know ‘im? Danny?”
“I know one Danny Blue. A student of mine once. In a way.”
“You a Sorceror?”
“For my sins. And you’re a Witch.”
“Nah.” Simms sighed, shook his head. “Ne’er got the training.”
“You have the Talent, you could still train.”
“I don’ think so.”
“Well, you have to want it. You got Klukeshama?”
“Yeh, we made one gwychcher team, in and out, slick’s a trick.”
“So Arfon has Klukesharna now.”
“Nah. We got her yeh, but after that, things got outta hand.”
“Danny?”
“Part. There was this putch the ‘Staffel land on us. Din’ need her, don’ know why they bring her in. Their mistake, for sure. Her ‘n Danny, they dump Felsa ‘n me, run for the Asatas. We wake up, go after ‘em. Had to. Poison. We catch up to ‘em this side the Asatas. Felsa nails Danny. He fall out facedown in the snow. I go for the Esmoon. Think I hit her. What happens next I don’ know till later. Felsa and me, we went out, whoosh, blowin’ a candle. We wake up next day half-froze with heads like y’ get after a three-day drunk. We still got no choice, so we take after Danny again. We catch him up. He with this woman, not the Esmoon, don’ know where she come from. No Klukesharna. Felsa gonna to skin him, she don’ believe nothing he says. He says the Esmoon went off with Klukesharna. He says the Esmoon’s no woman, she a demon.”
“Demon? Tell me what she looks like,” Maks’s voice was suddenly taut, compelling, for the first time he was putting the power on Simms.
Simms blinked. “Fahhn silver hair, way she wear it, it go to her waist in long waves, shiny. Blue eyes. Velvet skin. Beautiful and she know it. I ‘spect mos’ men go crazy for her. I ‘spect Danny right ‘bout her, I thought sure I put one shaft, maybe two in ‘er. You know ‘er?”
“Probably not her. But something like her. Go on. What happened next?”
‘It was in this Gsany village, in a bathhouse. We caught ‘em pants down, you’d think we had ‘em flat. Wan’t so. The woman drop a demon on Felsa an’ Danny drop me. Blessings be, old Tungjii stirring the waters, it turn out that the woman has this talisman, Frunzacoache, she use it to leach the poison outta us. Korimenei. Goin’ home and goin’ fast. Taktre Danny with her. Felsa taggin’ along, she don’ believe Danny don’ wanna see Klukesharna or the Esmoon ever again. I go along until I get tired a hurryin’. I leave and that’s how I end up here.”
“Korimenei.” Affection and amusement rumbled in the word. “How’d she look?”
“Like you damn well better not get in her way when she goin’ somewhere.” Simms rubbed his thumb along the seam of the trousers he’d been working on. “She a student too?”
“More like adopted daughter. Apprentice if I survive and she wants it.”
Simms blinked at him. “Cheonea,” he said. “Settsiulaksimin. Sorceror Prime.” He folded his arms across his chest and hugged himself as he watched hope and possibility wither and wash away; that was all he could see for the moment, then he realized what Maks had just said. “Survive?”
“It’s a web they’re weaving, Simms, the demons, the gods and the Great Ones. Arfon and the Ystaffel pumped you full of poison, my set of demons robbed me of my souls, temporarily I hope. They pointed me at Shaddalakh, either I get it or I die. I’m dying now. When the body’s empty, it begins to fall apart. No healer or herb doctor can stop the decay.” He shook his head. “They send me out and at the same time rob me of my best tools. Without my earthsoul I have no Shamruz body to journey for me, I can’t walk the realities or summon demons.”
Simms nodded, thinking he knew what Maks was saying. “Yeh. Y’ c’d fetch a demon an’ send it t’ get th’ talisman.”
Maks laughed, a happy shout that embraced Simms and invited him to share the joke. “N00000, no,” he said, “never let a demon near that much power, you could end up dancing to the demon’s tune rather than the other way about.”