The four of them wheeled their horses away from the broken body of the Eandi merchant and returned to their camp. Within the hour, they were riding back to their home by the Companion Lakes.
Epilogue
Grinsa, Cresenne, and Bryntelle left the sept only a few days after the departure of the two Mettai. L'Norr and D'Pera spoke to them at length in the days before, trying to convince them to stay, but both Grinsa and Cresenne had long since made up their minds to leave the Central Plain.
They rode north and west on the horses they had first purchased in Yorl, their very first day in the Southlands. They skirted the Fallow Downs, wishing to avoid the J'Balanar, and entered the Berylline Forest. There they encountered the woodland clans-the A'Vahl and the M'Saaren. They had heard other Southlands Qirsi speak of both peoples, and had been prepared to find that the A'Vahl were difficult and arrogant. After the Fal'Borna, they seemed anything but.
They found an A'Vahl settlement along the eastern banks of the river named for the clan. They were welcomed there, of course, because Grinsa was a Weaver, and even among the less warlike clans of the Southlands, Weavers were sought after. They stayed among the A'Vahl for nearly half a turn, learning the ways of the clan, and enjoying their wonderful food, which included a dazzling array of roots and greens, fruits and nuts, and some of the finest venison either Grinsa or Cresenne had ever tasted. They were shown how the A'Vahl shaped wood into bowls and furniture and musical instruments that they traded with peddlers from throughout the land. To his surprise, Grinsa discovered that he had a certain talent for woodwork, just as Cresenne had found during their turns with the Fal'Borna that she had a penchant for tanning.
It was curiosity, more than anything else, that made them leave. They liked the A'Vahl and both of them believed that they might have made a life for themselves there. But they had heard much about the M'Saaren, and so they crossed the A'Vahl River and journeyed south, until they found a large M'Saaren settlement called Sh'Rette. Once more they were welcomed into the village, and once more they were impressed with what they found there.
In many ways the M'Saaren and A'Vahl were alike, and it seemed that whatever rivalry existed between the two clans had been exaggerated by those Qirsi who lived outside the woodland. Grinsa and Cresenne remembered being told as much by D'Chul, a M'Saaren lutenist they had met when they first entered the clanlands. They ate similar foods, did similarly marvelous things with the various woods growing in the forest, and were equally friendly to strangers.
Again, Grisna and Cresenne could have remained in the village for a long time and been very happy. As it happened, they stayed with the M'Saaren for longer than they had been with the A'Vahl, though mostly because Bryntelle came down with a bad fever while they were there, and they wanted to wait until she recovered fully before moving on.
But move on they did. In the end, Cresenne realized that she missed the open skies of the plain. As much as she liked living with the woodland people, she found the woodland itself dark and oppressive.
As the waxing of the Fire Moon-Eilidh's Moon in the Forelands-began, they left the Berylline Forest and made their way into D'Krad land. They found K'Hosh, a small fishing village along the coast of the Gulf of T'Saan, where the people were desperate for a Weaver to help them recover from an outbreak of Murnia's pox. They were given a small house that had belonged to K'Hosh's healer, who died in the outbreak. It sat on the outskirts of the settlement right along the rocky shoreline, and Cresenne and Bryntelle remained there while Grinsa tended to the villagers. The D'Krad weren't as friendly as the woodland clanfolk had been. They were wary of strangers and nearly as abrupt in their manners as the Fal'Borna. But when Grinsa healed their sick, including several children, the villagers warmed to him and his family.
By this time, though, Grinsa and Cresenne had made their decision. One day, after the outbreak of pox had passed, they made their way down to the small port below the village, and Grinsa gave a message to a sea captain who was heading north.
Their missive had a long way to go. They remained in the house by the coast, enjoying the first days of the Planting and the return of warmer winds. Bryntelle learned to walk and began to speak, much to the delight of both her parents. Cresenne and Grinsa both worked a small garden plot by their modest home, and Grinsa learned enough about fishing to provide their supper on most nights.
They made their way to port every half turn or so, seeking the captain they had entrusted with their message, but for a long time they saw nothing of the man. The Planting gave way to the Growing. Warm damp winds and great violent storms swept across the gulf. Their garden grew. Ships managed to make port, and the small village bustled with fishermen and merchants. But it wasn't until the middle of the Growing, what people in the Southlands called the Sky Moon, that the captain returned with a message for Grinsa and Cresenne.
It said just what they had hoped it would.
"Are you sure you want to do this?" Grinsa asked Cresenne as they stood outside their house, watching the sun descend over the gulf and the distant island of Senkora.
She took a breath and nodded, looking both excited and apprehensive. "I think so."
"It means a long voyage."
Cresenne had suffered greatly on their sea voyage to the Southlands a year before.
Her expression soured, as if his words had triggered a memory of those days. "I know," she said. "But there's nothing to be done about that. The western waters are supposed to be calmer than those in the east."
"All right then," Grinsa said, pleased that they had a plan at last.
Bryntelle was playing in the garden, pulling a petal from each flower, filling her hands with color. He called her over and she tottered to where they were standing.
"How's my Bryn-Bryn?" he asked, scooping the girl into his arms. "Good," she said. She held out her hands to show him all the petals. "Wook what I find."
"They're very pretty," Grinsa said. "Mama and I have been talking, and we're wondering how you'd feel about going on a ride on a boat."
"A weaw boat?" she asked breathlessly, her pale eyes growing wide.
"A real boat. We'd be on it for some time, and at the end of the trip we'd have a new place to live."
"I wike this pwace."
"I know you do, sweetie. But this new place will be nice, too. And we'll still be by the water."
"And we go on a weaw boat?"
He grinned. "Yes."
She shrugged, then nodded. "Aww wight."
Grinsa turned to Cresenne, who was smiling as well. "All right," he said. "Looks like we're going."
Two days later, they made their way down to the docks, paid the captain one half the cost of their passage, and stepped onto a good-sized merchant ship called Golden Tern.
The captain was an Eandi man from Braedon in the Forelands, and though he seemed to have no particular affection for people of the sorcerer race, neither did he seem as hostile toward Qirsi as were most Eandi of the Southlands. He took their gold, welcomed them onto the ship, and proceeded to ignore them for most of the journey. Grinsa and Cresenne didn't mind at all.
The journey north went better than Grinsa could have hoped. Cresenne had been right: The western waters were calmer, and the only storm that might have endangered the ship struck while they were in port in the city of Rawson, in Braedon. Grinsa, Cresenne, and Bryntelle spent the night in the city, before returning to the ship the next morning. The skies already had begun to clear again, and the ship set sail a short time later on smooth waters.
Still, by the time the Golden Tern had navigated around the Braedon Peninsula and into the Strait of Wantrae, they had been on the ship for more than a turn, and were ready to disembark. Seeing Curgh Castle perched atop the cliffs of the Eibithar coast, Grinsa and Cresenne couldn't have been happier or more relieved. Even Bryntelle, who loved the ship and had become a favorite of the Golden Tern's sailors, seemed ready to step back on dry land.