“So you are returned,” he murmured, his eyes upon me as he lay upon his side. “What other did you see when you looked upon me? And where did he take you that you return with such sadness clear in your eyes? Had I my pipe to hand, I would have journeyed with you.”
I looked upon him with little understanding yet did I know that I wished to keep my thoughts my own. Deeply did Lialt gaze upon me, so deeply that surely it seemed he would soon be as deep within my mind, and such was not that which I wished. With deliberation, I pulled my eyes from his, breaking some link before it might grow to strength, and shakily I drew a breath.
“Fascinating,” he breathed, though he made no movement within his pelts. “Few indeed are those who are able to dismiss the demands of my call so. A child of the Snows are you in truth, a fitting mate for my brother. I am now even more pleased that our arrival in your need was so timely.”
Strange, again, were his words, of a strangeness to make my head whirl, but I did understand one thing.
“From whence do you come?” I asked, raising my eyes once more to his shadowy form. “And how did you come to be near Ranistard when you were?” Also did I wish to ask of Ceralt, yet was I unable to speak his name without faltering. Lialt smiled faintly, and then he reached toward the flame within the metal and drew it to him.
“The tale is an odd one,” he said, “yet I shall be pleased to tell it to you—though not with the lamp alight. We are both of us in need of sleep, and should one or the other succumb to its lure, the tale may be completed at another time.”
In some manner did he then open the frame and with his single breath the darkness surrounded us completely. Then came the sound of the metal returned to its place, and Lialt’s voice resumed.
“Nearly a kalod ago,” said he, “the Snows gave sign of a strange insistance. We were told, it seemed, that our High Rider must travel from us, and take residence for a time with those of the south. No understanding had we for the why of this, and none cared overmuch for it, yet were we unable to delay and question. All signs, all indications, insisted that our High Rider leave at once and without explanation. Ceralt asked my estimation of the importance of the journey, and I was able to add naught to what I had already read—he must leave for the south immediately.
“Ceralt was not pleased: however he knew that all men must go as the Snows reveal, therefore did he leave me as temporary High Rider, and take himself off to the south. He chose the city of Bellinard as his destination, for he saw some small attraction in the name—Bellinard for a Belsayah Rider—and naught did we hear of him for some time; then the Snows brought to me a further message—concerning the need of our High Rider.
“Ceralt would require the presence of his riders, said the Snows, and therefore were they to ride at once to the southern city of Ranistard. Yet Ceralt had gone to the city of Bellinard, all protested, wherefore the need to go to Ranistard? None knew, least of all I, yet was I sure of what I had read. Immediately, I mounted fifty riders, and we all took ourselves toward the city spoken of by the Snows, the city of Ranistard, yet was I somewhat unsure of an open approach, therefore did we leave the road for the woods when yet a fey’s ride from our destination. It was then that we came upon Ceralt.”
A sigh escaped him then, almost unnoticed by me, for the soothing sound of his voice had caused my eyelids to grow extremely heavy. No thought was I able to give that which I was told, merely was I able to hear the words and possibly remember them, and difficult was it to resist the softness and comfort of the pelts about me. Afloat in the darkness, the voice disembodied continued.
“Ceralt had been in the woods for three feyd and more, afoot yet attempting to reach the Belsayah. Easily might it be seen that he had been beaten, and all our riders called for the blood of those responsible, yet Ceralt quieted them, saying there was more important work to be done. There was a possession of his yet to be found in Ranistard, said he, and such was he bound to fetch from there, no matter who would stand in his way. I wished to halt for a time, to see to Ceralt’s bruises, yet he would have none of it. No further time did he take then to don proper clothing, and then we were off once more.
“Through the darkness we rode, and through a good portion of the new light, still within the woods, and then we glimpsed that which seemed a group of people. Immediately we turned toward the group, yet they vanished into the trees all about—all save one. That one lay upon the ground, giving her lifeblood to quench the thirst of the soil, and then we learned that before us was the one whom we sought. Ceralt sent two of our riders to purchase a wagon from Ranistard, instructing them to say naught of their origins nor purpose, and when they returned, we began the homeward journey. Shortly shall we reach our village once more, and then must we prepare for the journey spoken of to us so long ago. The journey set in the Snows even before our birth. Much danger. Yet we must go.”
Slowly, Lialt’s voice ceased, and soft breathing spoke of his having been taken by sleep. Warm and compelling were the furs and darkness about me, more compelling than thoughts of that which I had been told. Deeper did the darkness grow, and I, too, was taken as Lialt.
4
A struggle for motion—and a destination is reached
The new fey was well begun before I became aware of it. Again were Lialt’s furs untenanted, and again was the conveyance about me in creaking motion. Having first seen to the matter of turning to my back—an exertion becoming increasingly less difficult—I then spent considerable thought upon that which I had been told. Much of it held little or no meaning for still did I lack knowledge of that which Lialt had termed, “Snows,” yet it seemed that Ceralt, who stood high among his people, had been sent from them by cause of duty. I knew not what such duty entailed, nor did I know what manner of journey both he and Lialt saw for me, yet had I the thought that again I was of value to Ceralt as an item of trade. That he had said I would not undertake the journey spoken of save that I had regained my strength meant naught, for often did it appear that my value to Ceralt was a many-sided thing, one side to be weighed against another, that side of most value ever prevailing. The light of the fey came weakly through the opening in the cloth of the conveyance, bright yet much thinned from that which I knew in the lands of the Midanna. Soon indeed would I grow strong once more and then would I leave the lands of males who ever sought for value, never again to return, never again to ride from that place where Mida smiled upon her warriors. Would that I could have left upon the moment.
That fey and four others were spent upon the trail, yet was I unable to put further questions to Lialt. Much of the first fey I spent in sleep, yet when I had finished the broth brought by Lialt at darkness, again he instructed me to attempt sleep. Much annoyed, I refused to do so, wishing instead to put my queries, yet the male refused as well, saying that he wished sleep and would have it though I remained awake the entire darkness. No further words would he address to me, merely removing his leathers silently and with purpose, yet it seemed that much of his amusement at my appreciation of the male sight of him had gone. In annoyance did he look upon my appraisal, and then he frowned.