I thought it was just as well Magor swords were short, otherwise what was required of me would have been physically impossible. I placed the tip of the blade on my chest and prepared to drive it into my heart, wondering – with surprising calm – if my blood would fill up the hollow of the blade through the open tip.
'No!' The word exploded out of him, making me pause. 'It's all right, Shirin. I'll believe you -r-'
I shook my. head with a smile. 'No, you won't. Not really. It has to be done this way, Garis.' I eased the sword towards me, feeling it slip upwards between my ribs. I had studied the diagram in the book carefully, and took care to avoid the sternum and the lung. Still the sword resisted me, protesting the path I sent it on. Blood trickled down the blade. I applied more pressure and knew it had entered my heart. In confirmation, the sword flamed blue, crackling and sparking. Pain flared, impossibly intense, and I had to divert some cabochon power to reduce it to a
manageable level. Even so, moans escaped my throat, beyond my control. My vision changed; everything became tinged with red, without other colour.
Garis held the book up, so I could read the required words. I saw he was crying, tortured by his inability to do more to help me, worried we were doing the wrong thing.
I repeated the vow of the Covenant aloud, and followed it with the caveat that would kill me if I lied: 'In the name of my Magoroth sword and in the name of ¦ the Magoroth blood that runs in my veins, in the name of the heart's blood that I spill, may I die here and now if my intentions are not to fulfil my vow, or may I die in the future at the moment I am foresworn'. I looked up at Garis through a red haze.
'That's enough, Shirin! Please, withdraw your sword.'
I pulled the hilt back. A little blood followed the withdrawal of the blade, which had filled with gold light. The blue light faded and then the gold as I laid the weapon down. I was still standing, but weakness dragged at me. Garis pushed me into a chair and took up the washbowl and towel I had ready. Gently he washed the blood away, his hands trembling as he did so. 'Are you all right?' he asked in an agony of apprehension.
'I think so.' I felt weak. My vision was still distorted and pain still rippled through my chest, but I thought it was the pain of healing, not of death.
T would never have forgiven myself if something had happened to you.'
'Yes, you would have,' I said, with an attempt at a smile. 'If I'd died it would have been because I intended to betray Kardiastan, and you would have felt satisfaction.'
'I don't think so.' He was staring at my skin where the blade had entered; not only was there no more blood, but there was no recent cut, either. The only mark, where earlier there had been nothing, was a white sword-shaped scar, perfect in detail. I stared at it, fascinated. Garis touched it gently with his fingers in awed reverence. 'I have heard of this,' he whispered.
'What is it?'
'I always thought it a legend, a story. It is said that anyone who bears the shape of a Magor sword on their body is especially holy.'
'Holy? Garis, you have to be joking! If there is one thing I am not, it's holy! Goddess knows -'
'Oh, not holy in the religious sense. Holy to us, to the Magor, in that such a person is special, of importance in our history, to our land.'
My hand went involuntarily to my womb and I felt the blood drain from my face. 'Don't say any more. I don't want to hear it.'
He suddenly realised where he had placed his fingers, and drew back, blushing furiously. I pulled on my blouse and, still weak, went to lie on my pallet. 'Will you let me out of here, Garis?'
'Yes. Yes, of course. I can bring down the wards. Now, if you like. But what ought we to do, Shirin? Shall I have someone ride after Temellin? Ought I go myself? He may not believe anyone else. I'm not even sure he'll believe me.'
'No. Let him go on. Let him face the legions in Kardiastan. Someone must. I shall deal with the Stalwarts myself.'
He looked at me in confusion. 'But we need more people – you yourself said that! They are the Stalwarts. Even I've heard of them.'
'I think I can do it, if I plan carefully. I am stronger in Magor power now. I shall have their trust, remember. And they don't know what they face.'
'But won't it be – well, especially difficult for you? Because of this Favonius?'
'That is why I must do it. I would like to save him. I know I must try. But what of Pinar? She will never let you release me.'
'Mirage damn it! I had forgotten her. Shirin, what we did was foolish; we should have had witnesses. Others who could testify to your truth -'
'Too late now. I don't think I could go through that again. Anyway, Pinar wouldn't believe anything good about me no matter what she saw or heard. Listen, Garis, break the wards tonight, immediately after Reftim has taken away the dinner dishes. Arrange shleths and food – all that I'll need. By the time anyone knows I am gone, I will be well away. There's no need for you to be implicated. Let them wonder how I did it.'
'But you can't go alone!'
'Well, I was wondering if you'd also release Brand.'
'Oh. Um, good idea. But I shall come with you as well.'
'Still don't trust me, Garis?'
'It's not that. It's just that I want to be in on this too.'
'And what about your arm?'
'Damn the arm. I can still use my cabochon. Can't I come?'
'Temellin wouldn't let you ride out disabled, and therefore I won't, either. Sorry'
'You may need help -'
'Trust me. Garis, I have worked for two whole months with these texts here. And I have come to believe that my powers are special, just as Temellin's are. True, I haven't really Jiad enough,time, but I will
manage. And now, can you fetch Brand to me without anyone knowing?'
Only when I saw Brand again did I realise how much I had missed him. He knelt by my pallet where I lay, and took hold of my hand, squeezing it so tight I almost cried out – but there was no denying the surge of gladness I felt.
'I've missed you,' he said.
'And I you. Has Garis told you he's setting us free?'
'Yes. I might have known you'd find a way to do it. In fact, I'm surprised it took you so confoundedly long.' I pulled a face and hit him. He laughed. 'What now?' he asked.
'I'm going back to Tyrans, but first I have something to do.'
I explained about the Stalwarts, concluding with the words, 'So, I want to stop their invasion, without – I hope – killing Favonius.'
'Just like that?'
'Just like that. Believe me, Brand, I have the power now.'
'And you want me to go with you?'
'I'd like you to. But you are a free man, remember.'
'You want me to help you save your Tyranian lover and then have me watch while you go back to his arms and I lose you all over again?'
'I was never yours to lose, Brand,' I said tartly. 'And no, I'll never go back to Favonius. I can't. If I belong to anybody at all, it is Temellin. But perhaps I'm not cut out for – for a partnership with anyone. I like my independence too much.'
'You're mad. A week or so in a man's arms and you'd condemn yourself to a lifetime of celibacy when he
turns out to be your brother and marries someone
mam
else? That's crazy! Just because I love you, but can't have you, doesn't mean I deny myself the pleasures of a friendship and, er, other things, with another woman.'
'So I've noticed. But you haven't given me your answer: will you come to the Alps with me?'
He threw up his hands in capitulation. 'Ocrastes help me, yes, I'll come. But one of these days I'll either have you in my arms – or I'll break free of your spell and leave you.'
We both wrote letters before we left; Brand's was for Caleh, mine for Temellin. It was the hardest thing I'd ever had to write; it didn't say one-quarter of what I wanted to tell him, and it certainly didat come close to telling him all the truth.