"And She wants me as part of it."
"She must, or She wouldn't have marked the oathtaking."
Kethry stretched tired muscles, and put her hands under her head. "How much time do you have before you have to be back?"
"Before Tale'sedrin is declared dead? Four years, maybe five. Kethry..."
"It's all right, I told you, I can feel some of what you're feeling now, I understand."
"You're -- you're better. I'm -- I'm feeling some of what you're feeling, too."
"This whole mess was worth it," Kethry replied slowly, only now beginning to articulate what she'd only sensed. "It really was. My ghosts have been laid to rest. And revenge -- great Goddess, I couldn't have hoped for a better revenge! Kavin is terrified of me; he kept expecting me to turn him into a toad, or something. And Wethes is utterly ruined. He's still got his money, but it will never buy him back his reputation. Indirectly, you got me that, Tarma. I finally realized that I would never reach Adept without coming to terms with my past. You forced me into the confrontation I'd never have tried on my own. For that alone I would be indebted to you."
"She'enedran don't have debts."
"I rather figured that. But -- I want you to know, I'm going with you because I want to, not because I think that I owe you. I didn't understand what this oath meant at first, but I do now, and I would repeat it any time you asked."
A long silence. Then, "Gestena, she'enedra."
That meant "thank you," Kethry knew -- thanks, and a great deal more than thanks.
"Yai se corthu," she replied uncertainly. "Two are one." For she suddenly felt all Tarma's loneliness and her own as well, and in the darkness of the night it is sometimes possible to say things that are too intense and too true for daylight.
"Yai se corthu." And a hand came from the darkness to take hers.
It was enough.
Four
"Tarma, we've been riding for weeks, and I still haven't seen any sign that this country is going to turn into grass-plains," Kethry complained, shifting uncomfortably in Rodi's saddle. "Brush-hills, yes. Near-desert, certainly. Forest, ye gods! I've seen more trees than I ever want to see again!"
"What's wrong with forest, other than that you can't do a straight-line gallop or get a clear shot at anything, that is?"
Kethry gazed in all directions, and then glanced up to where branches cut off every scrap of sky overhead. Huge evergreens loomed wherever she looked; the only sunlight came from those few beams that managed to penetrate the canopy of needles. It seemed as if she'd been breathing resin forever, the smell clung to everything; clothing, hair -- it even got into the food. It wasn't unpleasant; the opposite, in fact, especially after they'd first penetrated the edges of the forest after days of fighting a dusty wind. But after days of eating, drinking, and breathing the everlasting odor of pine, she was heartily tired of it.
It was chilly and damp on the forest floor, and lonely. Kethry hadn't seen a bird in days, for they were all up where the sun was. She could hear them calling, but the echoes of their far-off singing only made the empty corridors between the tree trunks seem more desolate. This forest had to be incredibly ancient, the oldest living thing she'd ever seen, perhaps. Certainly the trees were larger than any she was familiar with. They towered for yards before branching out, and in the case of a few giants she had noticed, their trunks were so large that several adults could have circled the biggest of them with their arms without touching hand to hand. The road they followed now was hardly more than a goat track; the last person they had seen had been two weeks ago, and since that time they'd only had each other's voices to listen to.
At first it had been pleasurable to ride beneath these branches, especially since they had spent weeks skirting that near-desert she had mentioned, riding through furlong after furlong of stony, brushcovered hills with never anything taller than a man growing on them. While the spring sun had nowhere near the power it would boast in a mere month, it had been more than hot enough for Kethry during the height of the day. She couldn't imagine how Tarma, dressed in her dark Sword Sworn costume, could bear it. When the hills began to grow into something a bit more impressive, and the brush gave way to real trees, it was a genuine relief to spend all day in their cool shade. But now...
"It's like they're -- watching. I haven't sensed anything, either with mage-senses or without, so I know it must be my imagination, but..."
"It's not your imagination; something is watching," Tarma interrupted calmly. "Or rather, someone. I thought I'd not mention it unless you saw or felt something yourself, since they're harmless to MS. Hadn't you ever wondered why I haven't taken any shots at birds since we entered the trees?"
"But -- "
"Oh, the watchers themselves aren't within sensing distance, and not within the scope of your magesenses either -- just their feathered friends. Hawks, falcons, ravens and crows by day, owls and nighthawks by dark. Tale'edras, my people call them -- the Hawkbrothers. We really don't know what they call themselves. We don't see them much, though they've been known to trade with us."
"Will we see any of them?"
"Why, do you want to?" Tarma asked, with a half-grin at Kethry's nod. "You mages must be curiosity incarnate, I swear! Well, I might be able to do something about that. As I said, we're in no danger from them, but if you really want to meet one -- let's see if I still have my knack for identifying myself."
She reined in Kessira, threw back her head, and gave an ear-piercing cry -- not like the battle shriek of a hawk, but a bit like the mating cry, or the cry that identifies mate to mate. Rodi started, and backed a few steps, fighting his bit, until Kethry got him back into control. A second cry echoed hers, and at first Kethry thought it was an echo, but it was followed by a winged streak of gold lightning that swooped down out of the highest branches to land on Tarma's outstretched arm.
It braked its descent with a thunder of wings, wings that seemed to Kethry to belong to something at least the size of an eagle. Talons like ivory knives bit into the leather of Tarma's vambrace; the wings fanned the air for a heartbeat more, then the bird settled on Tarma's forearm, regal and gilded.
"Well if I'd wanted a good omen, I couldn't have asked for a better," Tarma said in astonishment. "This is a vorcel-hawk; you see them more on the plains than in the forests -- it's my Clan's standard."
The bird was half-again larger than any hawk Kethry had ever seen; its feathers glistened with an almost metallic gold sheen, no more than a shade darker than the bird's golden eyes. It cocked its head to one side and regarded Kethry with an intelligent air she found rather disturbing. Rodi snorted at the alien creature, but Kessira stood calmly when one wing flipped a hair's-breadth from her ear, apparently used to having huge birds swoop down at her rider from out of nowhere.
"Now, who speaks for you, winged one?" Tarma turned her attention fully to the bird on her arm, stroking his breast feathers soothingly until he settled, then running her hand down to his right leg and examining it. Kethry edged closer, cautiously; wary of the power in that beak and those sharp talons. She saw that what Tarma was examining was a wide band on its leg, a band of some shiny stuff that wasn't metal and wasn't leather.