With sudden swiftness he grabbed Althak’s swollen arm and poured the potion over the two puncture marks where the skin was darkest. It was black and vile-smelling and it hissed virulently as it ran over the Vorthenki’s arm. Althak’s body went suddenly rigid, but he did not regain consciousness. The skin around the bite, where the potion had touched it, turned from black to red and then to a weeping rawness. But the waxy texture of Althak’s skin diminished and the throbbing pulse in his arm grew calmer. Azkun had felt no pain when the potion had touched Althak’s arm.
The old man coughed and went back to his wooden chest to replace his jars. The mixture he had made filled the room with an acrid smell that blended with the animal stink and made Azkun’s eyes water. Their host also appeared irritated by it. He produced another jar from the old chest, scooped out some red powder in his hand and tossed it into the fire.
With a roar the fire exploded in the tiny hut. A ball of fire erupted into the thatching above. Somehow it did not catch on the dry straw there and, when it died away, the acrid smell was replaced by a drowsy sweetness. Azkun took one breath and found himself slipping irresistibly into sleep.
It was a strange sleep. At times he woke, or dreamed he woke, and saw the old man spooning something into Althak’s mouth or binding his arm. Once he saw him feeding Menish. He wanted to warn them, but he saw these things as if he were looking down a long tunnel, as if he were not part of the real world. One thing he dreamed was unlike the others. He saw the old man standing in a field with bundles of greenery in his arms, crushing them and casting them about his feet. The eye on his forehead was freshly painted.
When he finally awoke he had the feeling that several days had passed. The old man was gone and Althak was sitting up on the hay. Menish was asleep near him.
“Althak! You are well? You look much better.”
The Vorthenki grinned and lifted his arm. His wrist was wrapped in a dirty cloth but there was no sign of the swelling.
“I'm much better. My arm's still stiff and I can't bend my fingers properly, but I'm well. Do I remember your carrying me through the forest?”
Azkun nodded.
“Then I thank you. I would've died if you had not brought me here.”
For a moment Azkun said nothing, then he burst out, “I should have been able to heal you! You and Hrangil. Hrangil died and I did nothing. All I could do for you was to carry you. Why could I not heal you?”
Althak shrugged. “Some hurts are greater than others. Hrangil took more than a knife wound, Azkun. He was a dead man before you reached him. And perhaps you're not proof against poisonous bites.”
“The man in the knife fight was as near death as Hrangil, and what is this?” he pointed to the bite on his cheek.
“It's not for us to command the gods. Kopth, Aton, or your dragons, they'll do what they will.”
“But the dragons are compassionate, how could they deny help?”
“You ask me of dragons? I only know of Kopth, and he's not compassionate.”
Azkun would have shouted at him again, but he remembered that Althak was still sick. He had no right to tax him with such questions.
When Menish woke he too was better. But he was concerned about what they had seen in the land of Gashan.
“It was the Duzral Eye, there's no doubt of that. There are things I learned of it long ago, things I thought I'd forgotten. I know what they were doing to the stone.”
“Hrangil said it drove men mad and they killed themselves. Was that what was happening?”
“No, I don't think so. The more I think of the Eye now I wonder about it. I wonder why the Sons of Gilish had so many secrets, especially about the Eye.” He paused, thinking. “I remember hearing of an emperor of long ago who tried to pour blood over it, he said it gave it power. He was prevented and forced to abdicate.
“But perhaps he knew more about the Eye than we do. Perhaps the reason it was kept so secret is that it is so evil. Perhaps Telish IV died because he did not pour blood over the Eye. I don't believe it had anything to do with his not being descended from Gilish.”
“It is an evil thing,” said Azkun. “I saw it. It is the source of the Gashans’ evil.”
“What else did you see?” asked Menish. He remembered how Azkun had echoed the words of the woman with the snakes. “We must know if they are really planning an attack on Anthor.”
“Of course they are. How could you think otherwise? Could you not feel their hatred at all? That… rite that they were performing, they were worshipping the Eye and the Eye was speaking to them through the women with the snakes. It was instructing them…” Azkun was pale as he spoke and his hands trembled. He rubbed at his wrists involuntarily, remembering the snakebites.
“And what was it telling them?” asked Althak gently.
“There was much about murder and death, that is what delighted the Gashans.”
“Yes, but was there any information about when the attack will come? Will it be before or after the winter?”
“They have not gathered their people together yet. They will attack when the lake, Lake Kel I think, when the lake is no longer frozen. They will wait until it freezes and then wait until it thaws.”
“It'll freeze over soon when winter sets in, then it's difficult to cross because of the shifting ice. Do you mean they won't attack until spring?”
“I suppose I do.”
Menish felt a coldness in his spine. Thalissa, or his dream of Thalissa, had said the attack would be in the spring. She had also said he would be killed.
“Then we have time to get help from Vorish, provided we can find our way home.”
“But what good will that do you? They have the Eye. You saw it yourself.”
“We will fight them the best way we know how.”
The old man had been out gathering herbs, and he returned with a basket of fennel and sage and a rabbit he had caught. The day was fine and warm and they sat outside while he roasted the rabbit. Azkun remembered the Gashan he had murdered with his own hands as he watched them eat it. He could no longer afford to despise others. This was corruption, there was no answer to it but the power of the dragons. Somewhere in the depths of his soul he could still feel that Gashan. It watched the others eat with relish.
When they had eaten the old man left them and went inside his hut. “Who is he?” asked Althak.
“He found us in the forest,” said Menish. “I'm not surprised you don't remember. Unfortunately he doesn't speak any tongue I know, although once or twice he has gabbled something that sounded like Anthorian. I could make no sense of it.”
“And does he always smell that bad?” Althak grinned.
“Yes, so far he has anyway. I don't know who or what he is, though.”
“He is a Monnar,” shuddered Azkun. “He is evil. There is an eye painted on his forehead.”
“A Monnar? I suppose he could be,” said Menish. “What eye?”
“You must have seen it. It is painted in blood.”
“I've seen no eye,” said Althak. “I don't care if he's a Gashan at the moment. We owe him much, I think.”
“Hrangil told me they were the ones who sent Gilish to Kelerish to get the Eye. I do not trust him. He is preparing us for some evil. We should leave here as soon as Althak can travel.”
“That would be a good plan if we knew where to go,” said Althak. “I think we must rely on our host for directions at least if we're to find our way home. Don't think too harshly of him, Azkun. He saved my life. Besides, the story I heard was that Gilish forced the information about where to find the Eye from them. They didn't give it willingly.”
“I would have thought you, of all people, would know that,” said Menish.
“You mock me because of what I told poor Hrangil. What else could I do for him? I could not heal him. I tried, but I could not. You think I did not want to? Do not look at me like that. I lied to him and I murdered a Gashan the next day. I am evil too, but I am not a Monnar. I had a dream before we reached Meyathal. It warned me against the Monnar. Tenari is in their power, they were watching me through her.”