I was also personally relieved that Elsenar’s awful jewel had departed along with him. No man should be capable of meddling in another’s mind. And yet . . . I could almost hope that Elsenar had succeeded in locating and reuniting with his missing half-self, so long as he did not come back to trouble us in Alizon.
Ouen raised his hand to forestall the continued pointless discussion about Elsenar’s utter withdrawal. “We must develop our own offensive and defensive plans without any reliance upon Elsenar’s aid,” he asserted. “I had hoped that he might greatly augment our resources, but we must accept Elsenar’s warning that he is unlikely to return to Lormt.”
“In that regard,” said Morfew stoutly, “our situation is no worse than it was before we dispatched Kasarian to the Dales. During all this elapsed time, Jonja’s and Duratan’s foreseeings have not revealed any overt moves by the Dark mages. We have detected no further alarms from Alizon. Surely Gurborian’s faction remains in disarray, attempting to recover from his unexplained disappearance.”
“I must return to Krevonel Castle as soon as possible,” I declared. “It is vital that I learn how matters stand in Alizon City. Gurborian and Gratch have been eliminated, but others in their faction may have assumed their places, and continued to pursue the fatal linkage with Escore. I may be able to rally the elder barons—beginning with the authentic Volorian—to oppose both the pro-Kolder remnant and whatever persists of the pro-Escorian faction.”
Morfew peered at me. “I am concerned about your safety,” he said. “Will it be prudent for you to go back now? Even though your prolonged absence has been justified by your supposed survey of your far estates, will not your enemies have remarked upon the violent events at Krevonel Castle preceding your departure?”
I could not suppress a smile. “What violent events at Krevonel Castle?” I inquired. “I assure you that no word will have been uttered by my staff regarding the affairs of that night. There were, you recall, no other surviving witnesses.”
Duratan nodded grudgingly. “But won’t Gurborian’s faction still suspect that you were somehow involved in his and Gratch’s disappearance?” he asked.
“To suspect is one thing,” I countered. “To prove a suspicion can be considerably more difficult. Unless Gratch uncharacteristically betrayed his master’s confidence, none of Reptur’s pack can know what befell Gurborian’s missing party. Bodrik will inform me of any whispers that may have circulated. I readily confess my own unanswered question: what fortune have you experienced in your search for documents anent Escore while I have been away from Lormt?”
Duratan’s mate waved at a table piled with scrolls, books, and loose scraps of parchment. “We have found many references to the great clashes in Escore before our ancestors fled into Estcarp,” she replied, then shook her head in obvious frustration. “So much of it is fragmentary, and some is obscure and unreadable. There seems to be no end to the uncovering of new stores of material which we have yet to examine.”
“I never thought to behold such insights into the far past,” Morfew exclaimed, rubbing his hands together. “It would be more helpful,” he conceded, “if the bits and pieces fitted together more coherently, but we press ahead slowly.”
I saluted them. “The information you assemble may provide the key that enables us to triumph,” I said. “I pray you to persist in your work, and to share with me any facts that may further my endeavors in Alizon.”
“The only way we could communicate with you in Alizon is by postern transit,” the Wise Woman objected. “Since the postern is restricted to only those of Elsenar’s blood, our sole potential messenger is Mereth, and she will be in no condition to undertake such travel for some time to come.” She waved one hand fretfully, and exclaimed, “If we could simply cast a message packet through the portal—but one of Elsenar’s kin bearing your Krevonel key is required to make the passage!”
“Just as I am, in your terms, Volorian’s nephew,” I observed, “so do I also possess similar useful pups in my pack. They would be told merely that they were to deliver a message; a solid mask over the face would blind their eyes from seeing to whom the message roll was handed. Pack loyalty would keep their tongues still—that, and a prudent awareness of their personal vulnerability.”
Morfew sighed. “It is a sorrowful practice to rule the young by force and fear,” he said.
I could but stare at him in disbelief. “The Law of the Pack is best for all,” I contended. “The strong become stronger, and the weak are removed before they can breed more weakness.”
“So long as none is harmed by your arrangements,” Ouen said firmly. “As you rightly say, it is imperative that we keep our location at Lormt a secret. You have been given sufficient reasons to trust us, Kasarian, but your fellow barons would not likely approve or embrace your alliance with us, their perceived mortal enemies.”
“It has ever been the Alizonian way to seek advantage wherever it is to be found,” I replied, “and to break agreements when better opportunities arise. Still, I have learned that your ways also have unexpected value. You rely upon an oath without fear of subsequent betrayal. That is a different way from ours, but it seems to have afforded you a certain . . . stability that we lack in Alizon. Considering the degree of danger that presses upon us from the east, I believe it may be necessary for each of us to alter some of our ways if we are to survive.”
I was interrupted by a loud thump from Mereth’s staff. She had been writing busily during our discussion, and now she held out a sheet of parchment to be read aloud by Duratan’s mate.
32
Mereth—events at Lormt
(2nd Day, Month of the Fringed Violet/1st Day, Moon of the Spotted Viper)
After Kasarian departed from Lormt, I worried every day. Even though Nolar’s dye had wrought a startling effect, transforming Kasarian’s silver-white hair to the dark brown of shredbark nut hulls, I could not totally convince myself that he would be accepted by Dalesfolk old enough to remember the horrors of the war. When he came to bid me farewell and claim Elsenar’s jewel, I surveyed him with apprehension. His newly darkened hair emphasized the Alizonian pallor of his skin, making his blue-green eyes all the more brilliant by contrast. I thought to myself that the only way to disguise Kasarian successfully would be to hide him out of sight in a large hamper. The garments that Mistress Bethalie had provided for him were entirely suitable for a trader’s apprentice. If only Kasarian did not have to move about! He could not mask his swordsman’s balance or his uncanny hearing. I had to hope that the combination of my letters to the tradesfolk and our tale of his mixed parentage would plausibly excuse Kasarian’s otherwise inexplicable attributes.
When I handed him Elsenar’s jewel, he did not clasp its chain around his neck, but instead tucked the pendant within an inner pocket of his tunic. I knew that for a magic-averse Alizonder, the jewel had to be an awful object, whose very touch must be loathsome . . . yet Kasarian was willing to risk his life to carry it across the sea and through the Dales. On an impulse, I wrote for him a travel blessing I had learned during my childhood years of residence with the Dames of Rishdale Abbey.
After Farris returned to Lormt we received only one other report concerning Kasarian’s progress. Nearly nine weeks later, early in the Month of the Crooknecked Fern, a scholar from Karsten arrived, bearing a message for me which he had been given in Es City when it became known that he was traveling to Lormt. The Es City merchant desired me to inform “Kasyar’s” master that his apprentice had reached Etsport on the Seventeenth Day of the Month of the Snow Bird, and had sailed for the Dales two days later on the Storm Seeker. I recalled that during my own voyage, Captain Halbec had mentioned that ship to me. He considered the Storm Seeker’s Captain Brannun to be one of his few fellow Sulcars whose ship and crew could safely dare the winter seas.