Rohs lips were thin. You are gifted with the raising of storms, lady. We will set men to watch your trail. It may be Leth will come this far, but only if they are desperate. We have taught Leth manners before.
They are mightily irritated. Vanyes horse is Leth-bred, and we quit their hospitality suddenly, in a dispute with lord Kasedre and his counselor Chya Liell.
Liell, said Roh softly. That black wolf. I commend the quality of your enemies, lady. How much welcome do you ask?
The night only.
Are you bound north?
Yes, she said.
Roh bit his lip. That old quarrel? They say Thiye lives. It has never been in our imagination that you could survive too. But we are through giving you men, lady. That is done. We have none left to spare you.
I ask none.
You take this? It was Rohs one acknowledgment that Vanye lived; his proud young eyes shifted aside and back again. You could do better, lady.
But then he went and bade his women make place for Morgaine in the upper levels of the hall, and separate place for Vanye by the hearth. This Morgaine allowed, for Chya was a proper hall, and they were indeed under its peace as they had not been in Leth. And after that Morgaine and Roh talked together some little time, asking and answering, until she finally took her leave and passed upstairs.
Then Vanye gratefully put off his armor, down to his shirt and his leather breeches, and prepared the blankets they had given him by the warm hearthside.
Taomen came, spoke to him softly and bade him come to Roh; it was a thing he could not refuse. Roh sat cross-legged on the rhowa, with other men about him.
Of a sudden Vanyes feeling of ease left him. There was merry noise elsewhere in the hall, busy chatter of women and of children; it continued, masking softer words, and there were men ringed about so that no one outside the circle could see what was done there.
He did not kneel, not until they made it clear he must; then all the uyin of the Chya sank down on their haunches about him and about Roh, swords laid before them, as when clan judgment was passed.
He thought of crying aloud to Morgaine, warning her of treachery; but he did not truly fear for her, and his own pride kept him silent These were his kin: to trouble an ilin for a family matter violated honor, violated the very concepts of honor under the ilincodes, but Rohs offense was a powerful one. He did not know this cousin of his: his hope of Rohs honor was scant, but it kept him from utter panic.
Now, said Roh, and truthfully, Nhi Vanye, account for her and for your business with her.
Nothing she told you was a lie and nothing less than the truth. She is Morgaine, and I am an ilin to her.
Roh looked him over, long and harshly. So Rijan threw you out. You robbed him of one of his Myya wifes precious nestlings and he banished you. But you are due no kinship from us. My aunt did not choose your begetting. I only blame her because she did not leave Morija and come back to us. She was no captive by then, great with child as she was.
To what should she come backto your welcome? Temper overcame sense, for Rohs words stung. I honor her, Chya. And Chyas honor would not have taken her back as she had been, not after Rijan had had her, whether or not she were willing. She gave me life and died doing it, and I know the misery she had of Rijan better than you folk, that had not the stomach for coming into Morija to get her back, after Rijan rode into Chya lands to take her from you. Where is your honor, men of Chya?
The stillness was absolute. Suddenly the hall was deserted but for them. The fire crackled. A log fell, showering embers.
What became of her? asked Roh at last, tilting the balance toward life and reason. Was it death in childbirth, as they said?
Yes.
Roh let go his breath slowly. Better had Rijan drowned you. Perhaps he regretted that he did not. But you are here. So live, Nhi Vanye, Rijans bastard. Now what shall we do with you?
Do as she asked and let us pass from this hall tomorrow.
Do you serve her willingly?
Yes, he said, it was fair Claiming. I was in need. Now I am in her debt and I must pay it.
Where is she going?
She is my lady, he said, and it is not right for me to say anything of her business. Look to your own. You will have Leth at your borders for her sake.
Where is she going, Nhi Vanye?
Ask her, I say.
Roh snapped his fingers. Men reached for the blades laid before them. They unsheathed them so that the points formed a ring about him. Somewhere in hall a dish fell. A woman ran cat-footed into the corridor beyond, drew the curtain and was gone.
Ask Morgaine, Vanye said again; and when his breathing space grew less and an edge rested familiarly on his shoulder, he maintained his composure and did not flinch, though his heart was beating fit to burst If you continue, Chya Roh, I shall decide there is no honor at all in Chya. And I shall be ashamed for that.
Roh considered him in silence. Vanye went sick inside: his nerves were strung, waiting, the least pressure from them likely to send from his lips a shout to raise the hall and Morgaine from sleep. He was not brave. He had long ago discovered in himself that he had no courage for enduring pain or threat. His brothers had discovered that in him before he had. It was the same feeling that churned in him now, the same that he had known when they, out of old San Romens protective witness, had bullied him to his knees and brought tears to his eyes. That one fatal time he had seized arms against Handryss tormenting of him, one time only: his hands had killed, not his mind, which was blank and terrified, and had his hands not been filled with a weapon they would have found him as always, as he was now.
But Roh snapped his fingers a second time and they let him alone. Get to your place, said Roh, ilin.
He rose then, and bowed, and walkedit was incredible that he could walk steadilyto the place he had left at the hearth. There he lay down again, and wrapped himself in his cloak and clenched his teeth and let the fire warm the tremors from his muscles.
He wanted to kill. For every affront ever paid him, for all the terror ever set into him, he wanted to kill; and he squeezed the tears from his eyes and began to reckon that perhaps his father had been right, that his hand had been more honest than he knew. He feared a great many things: he feared death; he feared Morgaine and he feared Liell and the madness of Kasedre; but there never was fear such as there was in being alone among kinsmen, among whom he was always bastard and outcast.
Once, when he was a child, Handrys and Erji had lured him into the storage basements of Ra-morij, and there overpowered him and hung him from a beam in the deep cellars, alone in the dark and with the rats. They had only come after him after the blood had left his hands and he could not find the strength to scream any longer. Then they had come with lights, and cut him down, hovering over him white-faced and terrified for fear that they had killed him. Afterward they had threatened worse if he showed the cruel marks the ropes had made.
He had not complained to anyone. He had learned the conditions of his welcome in Nhi even then, had learned to clutch his scraps of honor to himself in silence, had practiced, had bit his lip and kept his own counsel, until he had fairly won the honor of the warriors braid, and until the demands of uyin honor must keep Handrys and Erij from their more petty tormentings of him.
But the looks were there, the subtle, hating looks and secret contempt that became evident when he committed any error that cost him honor.
Even the Chya tried him, in the same wayscented fear and went for it, like wolves to a deer.
Yet something there was in him that yearned to like the lord of Chya, this man so like himself, that showed kindred blood in his face and in his bearing. Roh was legitimate: Rohs father had virtually abandoned the lady Del to her fate, captive and bearing Rijans bastard, that must in nowise return to confound the purity of Chyato contest with his son Roh.
And Chya both feared him, and scented fear, and would have gone for his throat if not for their debt to Morgaine.
Late, late into the long night; his not-quite-rest was disturbed by a booted foot crunching a cinder not far from his head, and he came up on his arm as Roh dropped to his haunches looking down at him. In panic he reached for the sword beside him; Roh clamped his hand down on the hilt, preventing him.
You came from Leth, said Roh softly. Where did you meet her?
At Aenor-Pyven. He sat up, tucked his feet under him, tossed the loose hair from his eyes. And I still say, ask Morgaine her business, not her servant.
Roh nodded slowly. I can guess some things. That she still purposes what she always did, whatever it was. She will be the death of you, Nhi Vanye i Chya. But you know that already. Take her hence as quickly as you can in the morning. We have Leth breathing at our borders this night. Reports of it have come in. Men have died. Liell will stop her if he can. And there is a limit to what service we will pay this time in Chya lives.
Vanye stared into the brown eyes of his cousin and found there a grudging acceptance of him: for the first time the man was talking to him, as if he still had the dignity of an uyo of the high clan. It was as if he had not acquitted himself so poorly after all, as if Roh acknowledged some kinship between them. He drew a deep breath and let it go again.
What do you know of Liell? he asked of Roh. Is he Chya?
There was a Chya Liell, said Roh. And our Liell was a good man, before he became counselor in Leth. Roh looked down at the stones and up again, his face drawn in loathing. I do not know. There are rumors it is the same man. There are rumors he in Leth is qujal. That helike Thiye of Hjemuris old. What I can tell you is that he is the power in Leth, but if you have come from Leth, you know that. At times he is a quiet enemy, and when the worst beasts have come into Koriswood, the worst sendings of Thiye, Liells folk have been no less zealous than we to rid Koris of the plague: we observe hunters peace on occasion, for our mutual good. But our harboring Morgaine will not better relations between Leth and Chya.
I believe your rumors, said Vanye at last. Coldness rested in his belly, when he thought back to the lakeshore.
I did not, said Roh, until this night, that she came into hall.
We will go in the morning, said Vanye.
Roh stared into his face yet a moment more. There is Chya in you, he said. Cousin, I pity you your fate. How long have you to go of your service with her?
My year, he said, has only begun.
And there passed between them the silent communication that that year would be his last, accepted with a sorrowful shake of Rohs head.
If so happen, said Roh, if so happen you find yourself freereturn to Chya.
And before Vanye could answer anything, Roh had walked off, retiring to a distant corridor of the rambling hall that led to other huts, warrenlike.
He was shaken then by the thing that he had never dreamed to believe: Chya would take him in.
In a way it was only cruelty. He would die before his year was out. Morgaine was death-prone, and he would follow; and in it he had no choice. A moment ago he had had no particular hope.
Only now there was. He looked about at the hall, surely one of the strangest of all holds in Andur-Kursh. Here was refuge, and welcome, and a life.
A woman. Children. Honor.
These were not his, and would not be. He turned and clasped his arms about his knees, staring desolately into the fire. Even should she die, which was probably the thought in Rohs mind, he had his further bond, to ruin Hjemur.
If so happen you find yourself free.
In all the history of man, Hjemur had never fallen.