A laugh from the man, and this troubled her as welclass="underline" it was too dismissive. But then, she’d heard so many such laughs from men. ‘Well, be that as it may,’ this one said. ‘Please, let us feed you and offer you a warm bed for the night … I’m sure it has been a long time since you’ve slept in the warmth.’
This was true, and the offer did sound tempting. She felt now the bone-weariness that she’d grown used to all these weeks. She sighed. ‘Very well. Thank you for the offer.’
‘Thank you. This way – that is, how …?’
She gestured forward. ‘You lead. I’ll follow.’
‘Ah … of course. Very good.’
Her vision returned as they neared the fort. Ravens, it seemed, liked its crenellations. It was quite large for its isolated location, or so it seemed to her. Tall stone walls looked to meld into natural rock cliffs. A square inner stone tower filled most of the enclosed space. From what she could see it appeared that very few cloaked men and women walked its grounds or paced its walls.
The mercenary guided her through the open timber doors, faced in iron, and along an enclosed tunnel to the grounds. When they entered the tower and the heavy door closed she immediately lost her vision. The relative heat of the building – the greatest heat she’d felt in months – struck her like a heavy blanket and she suddenly felt her exhaustion.
‘I am Seth,’ the guardsman introduced himself. ‘I command this installation.’
‘Oh!’ She was startled that such a high officer would be out patrolling the paths, but then she’d heard such things of the Guard’s strange organization – or lack thereof. ‘Ullara.’
‘This way.’
Blind, she did not move. She cleared her throat. ‘I’m sorry, but within doors without my helpers I cannot see.’
‘Ah. Sorry.’
A hand, large and rough, took hers but she pulled free. ‘Let me hold your arm, please.’
‘Yes, of course.’ He guided her hand to his forearm and she followed his lead up a long hall. After a few more turns and doors they came to an even warmer room; a fireplace crackled here and chairs scraped as a number of people rose.
‘Our guest,’ said Seth. ‘Ullara.’
‘Greetings,’ a number of men and women answered.
She bowed her head. ‘Thank you.’
Seth guided her forward to a chair. She sat and now found herself so close to the fireplace that she imagined if she reached out she’d burn herself. A table was scraped across the stone flags until she felt it in front of her. ‘Soup is on the way,’ Seth said. ‘And bread. And watered wine.’
‘You needn’t go to all this trouble …’
‘Nonsense. When we had word of your approach we couldn’t believe it. I myself had to meet you – so you see, our encounter was no chance.’
‘Word?’ she asked, suddenly feeling troubled once more.
‘Yes, our—Ah, here he is.’
Someone sat at the table opposite her. She could not see him, but she felt him immediately. A powerful aura. A mage.
‘So … Ullara is it?’ a new voice asked.
‘Yes. And you are?’
‘Gwynn. My name is Gwynn.’
‘You saw me, did you?’
‘Felt you, more than saw. Yes.’
A fragrant bowl of something arrived before her. She gingerly felt for it.
‘Careful,’ Gwynn said. ‘It is hot.’
‘My thanks.’ She found and sipped from the bowl. Some sort of vegetable and drippings soup.
A yawn overtook her then and she almost dropped the bowl.
‘Finish and I will show you to a bed.’
She nodded her thanks, sipped more of the oh-so-good hot soup.
Later, she almost fell asleep in her chair, but the mage, who seemed to have the manners of a youngish man, guided her hand to his arm and led her through more halls and rooms to a small-sounding chamber containing a low straw pallet.
‘There are blankets,’ Gwynn said.
‘Yes.’ She’d felt them.
‘I will shut the door, but only for your privacy, I assure you.’
She frowned anew, slightly puzzled. ‘Thank you – of course.’
‘Yes. Of course.’ Yet he’d paused there, as if meaning to say something else. She was so warm and drowsy, however, that the bed pulled at her and she thumped down on to the straw.
She barely heard the door rattle shut.
Seth convinced her to stay two more days. During this time they fed her constantly, had her clothes mended by the servants who did the cooking and cleaning, and even gave her new warmer wraps, and a thick woollen cloak – one not crimson, they assured her.
She began to learn her way around the keep. At times she would be startled by flashes of vision – of mountainsides, the fort’s exterior – and she knew then that she’d chanced upon a window.
On the third day she sat at dinner with Gwynn, as was typical.
He told her of his youth and upbringing, which was as different from her own as could be imagined, and fascinated her. Of rich privilege in Unta. Of tutors and schools. Of great prospects all thrown away by youthful foolishness. Of exile and much wandering – the young man had even visited the near mythological Seven Cities.
While she had never before been out of Heng.
After dinner he guided her back to her room, as was their routine. ‘Well,’ she said, at the door, ‘I will continue on my journey tomorrow.’
A long silence followed, and she tilted her head enquiringly.
‘About that,’ Gwynn began, slowly. ‘I am so very sorry, but Seth will not allow you to leave.’
At first she laughed. ‘Gwynn! That’s absurd. You can’t keep me prisoner here.’ He did not answer; she imagined him knitting his fingers in front of him. ‘I am not one of your company – I am a free woman. I can go when I choose!’
‘I’m sorry—’ he began.
‘Where is the commander? Where is Seth? I demand to speak to him!’
She imagined him shaking his head. ‘Speaking with him will make no difference. It is decided. You will stay.’
‘You will not keep me prisoner,’ she answered, and was surprised by the power in her voice.
‘In three months’ time our relief will arrive. A mule train out of New Seti. They will come by a much more circuitous route than the one you found. We will then escort you back to the lowlands. You can go anywhere you choose after that.’
‘Let me go,’ she fairly snarled. ‘I must go.’
‘Oddly enough we are in agreement in this, you and I. I argued against keeping you back. It seems to me that your arrival here was nothing short of a miracle. That it was almost as if you were being guided, or watched over – and that therefore we ought not interfere. Seth, however, believes that sending you on your way would be the equivalent of murder by negligence. And that we cannot do. Therefore, you must stay.’
She gaped, utterly at a loss. Imprisoned! How dare they! Yet there was nothing she could do. She bit her lip – mustn’t cry! ‘Leave me,’ she managed, all in a gasp.
‘Of course,’ he murmured, and the door groaned shut.
This time she heard it lock.
Chapter 17
It was night, and damned cold. How the blasting furnace heat of the day could be whipped away so quickly was a mystery to Dancer. The dark bowl of the sky was clear and glowing with stars. That at least was some consolation; he’d been given rudimentary training in how to tell direction by the stars and so he knew that at least they weren’t walking in circles.
He paused to catch his breath – something he found himself having to do more and more often – and adjusted the woven rope across his chest. The rope drew a tossed-together sledge of two branches as runners supporting broken lashed boughs as crosspieces. Upon this lay Kellanved.
It had been four days, or rather nights, of travel since their banishment by whoever – or whatever – that entity had been. He’d recovered first, while Kellanved was still having trouble. It seemed the entity had attacked him with particular vehemence – Dancer couldn’t imagine why.