Sorgrad shrugged. “That sounds fair enough, if you’re Olret.”
“Or they could have been lying,” Ryshad said reluctantly. “Olret could have perfectly good reason to keep them locked up. I hate to sound like Mistal but you’ve only their word to go on.”
’Gren was looking confused. “Ryshad’s brother,” I reminded him. “The advocate before the law courts.”
Shiv looked up from his map. “I can’t find Evadesekke but I think this may be Froilasekke.” He held up the parchment and pointed.
“That’s clear over the other side of the islands,” I said without enthusiasm.
“I’d go further than that for the right kind of gratitude from a rescued maiden.” ’Gren’s mood was brightening again.
Ryshad shot him an unreadable glance before returning to me. “You didn’t think we should involve ourselves before. Why tell us now?”
“Those goats are getting nearer,” warned Sorgrad.
“Olret was happy to help us as long as we were going to kill Ilkehan.” I met Ryshad’s gaze with a challenge of my own. “I’m not sure how he’ll react to us coming back, if he’s got secrets of his own to protect.”
“He doesn’t know we know about the women.” Ryshad looked thoughtful.
“I say we steer clear of Olret and let him do as he pleases.” Sorgrad scowled at ’Gren who was predictably bright eyed at the prospect of some new excuse for a fight. “Rettasekke or Shernasekke, they’re nothing to us. We owed Ilkehan a full measure of vengeance and killing him served everyone’s purpose. Now that’s done, let’s go home and reap the rewards.”
“I agree.” I raised my hand to stay Sorgrad’s approval. “But I don’t want to find myself coming back here next summer, because Olret’s set himself up in Ilkehan’s place.”
“So what do you propose to do?” Sorgrad challenged me and Ryshad both. “Kill Olret as well?”
“I don’t know what to do.” I’d had enough of killing, even of those we knew without doubt to be guilty but I didn’t bother telling Sorgrad since he wouldn’t consider it relevant.
Ryshad sucked his teeth. “Olret showed us a fair enough face but as our host he would do, of course.”
“And if Olret keeps these women locked up, they’re bound to blacken his name.” I spread my hands. “Now do you see why I didn’t muddy the waters stirring all this up?”
“We are going back then?” ’Gren glanced from me to Sorgrad, long knife ready in his hand.
“Not to the keep, not unless we have to.” Ryshad looked to us each for agreement and then at Shiv. “Can you take us to some quiet spot inside Olret’s boundaries until we can raise Usara and leave this all behind?”
The mage nodded. “There’s a place I saw as we rowed up the coast.”
“What about breakfast?” ’Gren complained.
“What about these women and their claims?” Shiv was looking dour.
“Maybe Guinalle can read the truth of it all in Olret’s dreams or some such,” I suggested.
“Shiv, get us out of here, please.” Ryshad cocked his head at goat bells again. “Whatever Olret may be, his people should be friendly to us and, Dast knows, no one hereabouts will be.”
“Depends what they reckoned to Ilkehan,” countered ’Gren.
His irrepressible voice faded as Shiv wrapped his spell around us. A breeze spiralled ever closer, ever faster, cool against my skin with the soft moisture of wind from the southern sea. The waterfall and grey rocks vanished as the breeze thickened to azure brilliance on the very edge of sight. Then the dizzying spiral seemed to get inside my head and the pleasant cool turned to a chill and wearisome damp making my very bones ache. I closed my eyes and swallowed hard but the sensation of my feet leaving the ground jolted me just that bit too hard. As solid ground lurched beneath my feet once more, I felt my gorge rising and hastily darted to one side.
“Good thing we haven’t had breakfast,” said ’Gren cheerily. “You’d just have wasted it.”
When I’d finished retching, I glowered at him. Ryshad handed me his water bottle and I rinsed my mouth and spat, wiping the back of my hand across my mouth. “Where are we?”
“Inland and up the coast a way from Olret’s settlement.” Shiv had brought us to the edge of some looming barrens, grey rock ripping through the threadbare green on the steep hillsides. We were hidden from the keep by a substantial buttress of rock thrust forward from one of the mountains guarding the interior. It was striped with unusually pale scree and on one face some upheaval had snapped the smooth line of the rock to leave a splintered cliff above a litter of shattered stone.
Sorgrad was peering out towards a long slew of morning mist cloaking the sea. “How do you suppose that fight for the fort’s gone?”
’Gren had other concerns. “Who do you suppose lives there?” He pointed at a long low house surrounded by a cluster of shabby outbuildings, goatskins nailed up for drying making pale patches on the gable ends. The wind shifted and brought us a whiff of mingled earthy smoke and cooking smells.
“Do you think we could ask for some food?” I looked at Ryshad.
“They can only say no.” He looked at one of the lesser buildings where a puff of steam escaped a window to be swept away by the gusting breezes. “I’d pay solid coin for the chance of a bath and a shave.”
Sorgrad was already moving towards the isolated homestead. “We’ll get ourselves clean and fed and then we’ll try bespeaking ’Sar again.”
“Wait a moment,” Shiv said, irritated. “Do you want whoever’s in there scared out of their wits?”
The air shimmered around us and magic leached much of the colour from our skin and hair. We were still an unnatural hue but, with Halcarion’s blessing, a stranger’s first thought should be we were just filthy and exhausted rather than dread messengers from the Eldritch Kin.
’Gren picked up the pace as we crossed the wind-scoured turf. People busy about the scatter of buildings paused to stare at us. “You stay here,” Sorgrad commanded as we reached a low wall of close-fitted stone. He and ’Gren crossed another stretch of grass that yielded to a raggedly cobbled yard in front of the long central house. A couple of men leaned on long narrow spades crusted with dark earth. Both house and the random outbuildings looked built from whatever rock had tumbled down the mountainside, sides bulging with irregular-shaped stones. Few windows pierced the thick walls and those couldn’t have admitted much light through their grimy horn panes.
“This doesn’t look very promising,” I murmured to Ryshad while trying to look innocuous under the suspicious gaze of the Elietimm men.
“Let’s see what Mountain charm can do for us,” he said with a certain sarcasm.
One of the men called into the doorway open on to the blackness inside the dwelling. A thickset woman with a dull orange scarf wound tight around her head appeared fast enough to suggest she’d been keeping a look-out through some peephole. Sorgrad stepped forward with a courteous bow and a sweeping gesture in the general direction of Olret’s keep. The woman stepped out of the doorway and waved a hand at one of the outhouses.
“Isn’t that where the steam came from?” Shiv looked hopeful.
’Gren turned to wave us forward. I was in a mood to take a gamble as well. “I don’t know about you two but I’m more than ready for a bath.”
The sturdy woman waited with Sorgrad and ’Gren while her sons or whoever they were took themselves off to their daily duties. She stood, feet solid on the irregular cobbles, arms folded across an ample bosom. Her face was creased with age and disillusion, mouth sunken on to almost toothless gums. She was certainly the oldest Elietimm I’d seen thus far and her speech was sufficiently fast and slurred that I understood none of it.