"Four," said Rella quietly.
"Just the—four of us to face the rest of them and whoever is behind them! I never thought I'd raised an idiot, my lass, but I'm beginning to wonder."
I was growing angry myself—I can barely hold back my temper at the best of times—but it was Varien who spoke. "For a people who do not truly breathe fire, you manage to come very close."
"Hah," muttered Jamie.
"Do not let your guilt overcome your good sense, Jameth. You are mistaken in this and you know it. We must leave, publicly and very soon. You must not let your fear blind you to truth."
"I'm not afraid of them!" he growled.
"I did not say that you were," replied Varien gently.
Jamie stopped then and stared at Varien. "Failure once is seldom true defeat, Jamie," said Varien. "It is there merely to let the wise soul take note that something is not as it seems to be. I thought I could fly when I had seen but twenty winters; my wings were large and I was strong. When I jumped from the low cliff where those twice my age were taking off, I flapped long and hard and still fell straight into the sea thirty feet below. It was not that flying was impossible, only that there was more to it than I had thought."
I couldn't stifle the laugh. "Did it hurt?" I asked, grinning.
"Enough to stop me trying it again that day," he replied lightly. "Yet I worked on in secret, and in the end flew not five years later, a quarter of a kell before the rest."
"Spare me your sympathy, dragon," growled Jamie. He glanced at Rella and frowned. "And why aren't you asking whether he's mad or not, talking about flying?"
"Because I saw him just a few hours after he changed and I know all about it," she said, grinning. "Any more questions?"
"Only to wonder why all of you are so intent on getting killed. You're good with a blade, mistress, but even I wouldn't trust myself against as many as may come," he muttered. "I know my own limitations."
"Jameth of Arinoc, you are spouting childish nonsense and I'm getting tired of it," said Rella suddenly. "Don't be a fool. They are right, and you're feeling guilty and sorry for yourself. Poor old man," she taunted, "you're just not up to it anymore, are you?"
He drew his dagger even as she finished speaking, and even though she knew it was coming Rella was still within his reach. His blade stopped just short of her heart.
She was grinning. "If you're so slow, idiot, how did you manage to do that? I'm very, very good at what I do, and / am certainly not out of practice." The rage on Jamie's face turned slowly to wonder, and she pushed his hand away gently. "Now put that thing down before you hurt someone with it. We need to take Lanen away from here. I'd suggest Sorun, but then I would."
"Why?" I asked, while Jamie sputtered.
"It's home. Well, home for the Service," she said.
I spoke up then, quickly, before Jamie recovered. "There is another possibility. I know it's a longer trip, but I—we— perhaps we could aim for Verfaren."
"Hells' teeth, why Verfaren?" asked Jamie. His voice was rather more normal, which was a relief. He seemed to have a lot on his mind.
"Lanen has told me of the collection of wisdom there, which she called a library," said Varien. "It is a journey she and I must take at some time or another, and since we must go somewhere it seems as sensible as any other destination." We kept arguing.
Four days later we were sitting round a far-too-small fire in a little clearing just inside the Trollingwood. We'd gone straight east from Hadronsstead, telling my cousin Walther we were bound for Sorun and would catch a riverboat all the way down the Arlen. It seemed as good a story as any, and to be honest Walther didn't care in the slightest. He was still mourning the horses and seemed to think that I had got myself attacked just to make his life more difficult. He wished us well and turned at once back to the business of getting the stables cleared of debris so the horses could go back in. I did not think it would be so easy as that, for the dreadful smell of death and burning lingered in the air, lingered in the very ground. If I were a horse I would never go near the place— but that was now Walther's problem. True, I was Hadron's heir and the stead was mine by right, but I had arranged it with my cousin half a year before that he and Jamie and I would have equal shares in it all if he would take care of the horses, which was all he cared about in any case. So far it had worked well for all of us.
When we were a day and a bit out from Hadronsstead, Jamie led us slightly north to get into the edge of the great Trollingwood. It wasn't much shelter but it was a great deal better than nothing. We were still debating where to go.
"We need to learn as much as we can about the Lesser Kindred, Jamie," I said. "Surely in all this time someone has learned something about them. Wasn't it you who told me that the great library in the College of Mages in Verfaren is the best place to look for anything?"
"Yes, girl, and he's right," said Rella, "but must you go there first? It's a lot easier to catch a riverboat from Sorun, or even somewhere along the Arlen, than to tramp overland all the way south—and where were you planning to cross the river? Besides," she said dryly, "I have an errand in Sorun. I have an idea who hired those lads, but I want to find out for certain. The ones who are left will almost certainly be looking for reinforcements."
Jamie took another small sip of his beer, for we hadn't brought much. "I wouldn't worry overmuch about that. He'll not find anyone hereabouts in any case."
"There are always idiots for hire," said Rella sourly.
"Aye, but the idiots are the only ones left," said Jamie, grinning unexpectedly. "I've already found every likely lad for thirty miles around and got them working for me."
Rella grinned back. "I should have realised. Very well, Master, so they are stuck with the five of them. That's good. But it's still more fighters than the four of us."
"I can take us by roads they will not know," said Jamie quietly.
"So can I, Master, and the roads have changed since last you travelled them. I know you know the way, but if you follow me we'll get there faster."
"And that's another thing—why do you call me that?"
Rella raised her eyebrows and looked at Jamie. Then she said something in a language I couldn't understand, but whatever it was it shocked him. I nearly cheered. Jamie was all the better for a shock every now and then.
She spoke the tongue of the assassins far too well. "Don't try to tell me you don't remember. The Master of Arinoc was a legend when I joined up, and you'd been out of the game for ten years by then. Never missed a kill, never injured, never caught—you were our hero."
I spat at the ground and answered her in plain speech. I knew the Blood Cant, but I hated it and the memories that came with it. Bad enough I'd had to use it with that mere some days before. "Damn fools. And if anyone ever called me that, it was far enough behind my back that I couldn't hear them. I never realised you were one of them."
"So were you and don't forget it," she snapped back. "And just because I speak Blood Cant doesn't mean I go around slaughtering people. Yes, I've killed in my time, in fair fight and foul, but seldom for pay and never for pleasure. Don't you dare to judge me, Jameth of Arinoc."
I glanced quickly at Lanen. She was staring thoughtfully at the fire, but when she looked up at me the condemnation I dreaded was not in her eyes. She had truly accepted me, then, for what I was and had been. Blessed be the Lady for that at least.
I turned back to Rella. "I would not presume, Mistress Rella. Those in the Silent Service have their own motives and their own sources. And how should I dare to judge you, with my own past laid here before me? No, lady. Rather I pity you from my heart, and for the good you have done my Lanen I can only hope you escape the Service before you die in it."