Around the limb of the lower slope the main road led, bending toward Ra-hjemur. It must be. There was no other place in Hjemur that could even boast a road.
He kept the horse to a holding pace. The Lethen might be reluctant to follow, but Liell would drive them to ittimid as Morgaine avowed herself to be, able to spend others lives before her own, she was capable of fearful risks when it became necessary, and Liell surely would prove no different: when caution would not serve, then there would be nothing reserved, nothing. When Liell knew finally that the Gates themselves were at stake, he would surely follow. The only hope was that he had yet to understand what Changeling was, or that a Morij ilin might understand what had to be done with the blade.
A shadow thundered out at him. The black screamed shrilly and shied, and an impact hit his shoulder, tumbling him inexorably over the blacks rump, head over heels, and into snow and hard ice.
Joints moved, bones unbroken, but shaken; he tried to gain command of his battered limbs and move, but a shortsword pressed under his chin, forcing his head down again into the numbing snow. A body hovered over him, the arm that rested across the figures knee ending abruptly.
Brother, said Erij, whispering.
CHAPTER X
ERIJ. VANYE TRIED a second time to rise, and in a sudden move Erij moved back and let him. Then he snapped the Honor blade back into his belt and stalked up the road a space where his horse stood, along with Vanyes black.
Vanye stumbled up from the ditch, limping, trying vainly to overtake him and prevent him, saw to his dismay that Erij had already found what the black horse bore on its saddle.
A fierce grin spread over Erijs face as he took the sheathed blade in hand, and with the sheath in the crook of his arm and his hand upon its hilt, he waited Vanyes coming.
Vanye stopped short of the threat he posed him, still shaking in all his limbs, trying to gather his breath and his wits and frame some reasonable argument.
There is a qujal out of Leth, he began, his voice hardly audible. Erij, Erij, there are Lethen and the devil himself behind me. We are both in danger. I will go with you clear of this roadnot try at escape, at least that far. I swear, I swear it, Erij.
Erij considered, his dark eyes fluid in the dark. Then he nodded abrupt decision, hooked the sheath of Changeling to his own beltone-handed as he was, he wore it at his hip, not his backand swung up to mount.
Vanye hauled his aching body into the saddle on a second effort, sent the black galloping down the road in Erijs company, down side trails into forest, though at every turn the forest looked more ominous in itself. The horses went at a careful pace now, wending their way down into rocky ground. Here was still patches of snow in which to leave prints, but brush and woods were so thick that pursuit of them could not be easy for any group of men, and their trail was somewhat obscured. It held no feeling of safety, this placerather, the same kind of queasiness that all of Erijs ambushes had held, from boyhood up, screaming alarm, such that he thought, like another dream by Aenor-Pyven, that he might have ridden this place in some bad dream, wherein he had died. The trees, the rocks etched themselves into his sight, his senses clinging to them as strongly as fingers might cling to some last handhold on solidity. I am losing these, he thought, and: I am mad to go with him like this. But he had no strength left, and Erij held Changeling, held his duty as ilin to hostage: Erij could reason, could be reasoned withhis hope insisted so.
Then, in a clear place among the trees, Erij reined in and ordered him down.
Panic struck him. Almost he did lay heels to the horse. But he found himself climbing down, careful of strained knees as he caught his balance on the ground. He moved out uncertainly as Erij motioned him to the center of the clearing.
Where is she? Erij asked then, and as he asked, climbed down, and unhooked the sheath of Changeling.
Then he knew of a certainty that Erij meant to kill him when he had answered; and Changeling slipped inexorably from its sheath, Erij knowing the nature of the blade now, well able to wield it
Vanye hurled himself at Erij waist-high, grappled and came down with him, Changeling falling still sheathed.
Erijs elbow crashed into his face, blinding him. Vanye was suddenly underneath again, losing, as he had always lost, as it had always been with his brothers. He could not see, could not breathe, could not feel for a moment. With his last effort he heaved over and clung, fighting only for leverage. Then his hands were slamming Erijs head into the snowy ground, again and again, until Erijs limbs weakened and ceased to struggle. He scrambled up to find Changeling, his mind now clearing as he reached his horse, holding the sword-sheath, groping blindly for the reins.
The horse shied. Erijs rush carried into his lower back, hurling him, stunned, almost under the hooves. Changeling flew from his nerveless fingers, beyond reach, and when he struggled after it, Erij kicked him over by the shoulder. He came halfway up, staggered, and met Erijs fist, which laid him backward into the snow. Then Erij fell upon him with a knee upon his chest and his maimed arm still strong enough to strike his arm aside: Erij ripped the Honor blade from his belt and slipped it within the throat-laces of his armor, cutting down the thongs like so much rotten thread.
A third of Nhi died at Irn-Svejur, Erij gasped at him, hoarse and out of breath. Your doingand hers. Where is she?
Vanye swallowed against the blades pressure, unable to answer. He fought instinctively to breathe and froze, trembling with the effort, when he felt moisture trickling down the sides of his neck. Raw pain rode on the edge of the blade as it eased slightly.
Answer me, Erij hissed.
Leth. He moved an arm as heavy as his whole body ought to be, ceased. Qujalmen from Leth caught herto make her give them what she knows. ErijErij, no, do not kill me. They will have her knowledgetheirsThiyestogetheragainst us.
The pressure eased altogether, but it was there. The faint hope there was of Erijs interest sent the sweat coursing over him. Erijs knee hampered his breathing: he felt himself losing touch with his senses again, dizzied and numb. And you, bastard? Erij asked him. What are you doing loose and alone?
Hjemurthe source. That can stop them. I am to kill Thiyetake Ra-hjemur. Erij, let me go.
Bastard, I have chased you from Irn-Svejur. The others had no stomach for Hjemurs territory and Morgaines weapons, but I swore to them that I would go where I had to go to bring back your head. I would bring back the whole of you alive, but one-handed as I am, I know I cannot manage that. For Nhi and for Myya, for San and Torinmost especially for Nhi and its dead, I will do this thing, and then find how to put this gift you have given me to best use. I have no enemies I need fear so long as I wield that. If it would bring you safely to Ra-hjemur, then it could bring me there too.
Go with me there, then.
I offered you the chance of sharing power once, bastard, and I meant it; but you loved the witch more than you loved Morija, enough to kill Nhi for her.
Erij, you know at least that I will not break an oath. Help meto Ra-hjemur. Now. Before our enemy takes it. Let me have my revenge on Thiyefor Morgaine; on the qujal too if I can. I am speaking sense, Erij. Listen to me. There are weapons in Ra-hjemur, surelyand if our enemy lays hands on them, even holding Changeling might not be enough to take the citadel. Do this. Come with me. That is my oath to herto deal with Thiye. After that, anything that is between us will be between us, and I will not cry foul at anything.