He walked out into the courtyard and stood there in silence. The moon wasn't up yet, but the stars were many and bright on this clear night. The gate was still locked. But why had he wondered? What was he afraid of? What had he seen in his dream?
Meb's and Elya's doors were closed. What a laugh- here I am, wounded and sore, and I keep my door open, while these two go ahead and close their doors like little children.
Or maybe it's only little children who care about such meaningless contests of manliness.
It was colder than ever outside, and now he had cooled off the feverishness that had made him get up. But still he didn't return to his room, though he meant to. In fact, it finally dawned on him that he had already decided several times to return to his room, and each time his mind had wandered and he hadn't taken a step.
The Oversoul, he thought. The Oversoul wants me to be up. Perhaps wants me to be doing something. But what?
At this point in the month, the fact that the moon had not yet risen meant that it was a good three hours before dawn. Two hours, then, before Father was supposed to arise and go to his rendezvous at the cool house, where the plants from the icy north were nurtured and propagated.
Why was the meeting being held there)
Nafai felt an inexplicable desire to go outside and look northeast across the Tsivet Valley toward the high hills on the other side, where the Music Gate marked the southeast limit of Basilica. It was silly, and the noise of opening the gates might waken someone. But by now Nafai knew that the Oversoul was involved with him tonight, trying to keep him from going back to bed; couldn't this impulse to go outside also come from the Oversoul? Hadn't Nafai prayed today-couldn't this be an answer? Wasn't it possible that this desire to go outside was like the impulse Father had felt, that took him from the Desert Road to the place where he saw the vision of fire?
Wasn't it possible that Nafai, too, was about to receive a vision from the Oversoul?
He walked smoothly, quietly to the gate and lifted the heavy bar. No noises; his senses and reflexes were so alert and alive that he could move with perfect silence. The gate creaked slightly as he opened it-but he didn't have to open it widely in order to slip through.
The outer gate was more often used, and so it worked more easily, and quietly, having been better maintained. Nafai stepped outside just as the moon first showed an arc over the top of the Seggidugu Mountains to the east. He headed out to walk around the house to where he could see the cool house, but before he had taken a few steps he realized that he could hear a sound coming from the traveler's room.
As was the custom in all the households in this part of the world, every house had a room whose door opened to the outside and was never locked-a decent place where a traveler could come and take refuge from storm or cold or weariness. Father took the obligation of hospitality to strangers more seriously than most, pro- viding not ju^t a room, but also a bed and clean linen, and a cupboard provisioned with traveling food. Nafai wasn't sure which servant had responsibility for the room, but he knew it was often used and just as often replenished. So he should not be surprised at the idea that someone might be inside.
And yet he knew that he must stop at the door and peer inside.
Scant light fell into the traveler's room from the crack in the door. He opened it wider, and the light spilled onto the bed, where he found himself looking into the wide eyes of-Luet.
"You," he whispered.
"You," she answered. She sounded relieved.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. "Who's with you?"
"I'm alone," she said. "I wasn't sure who I was coming to. Whose house. I've never been outside of the city walls before."
"When did you get here?"
"Just now. The Oversoul led me."
Of course. "To what purpose?"
"I don't know," she said. "To tell my dream, I think. It woke me."
Nafai thought of his own dream, which he couldn't remember.
"I was so-glad," she said. "That the Oversoul had spoken again. But the dream was terrible."
"What was it?"
"Is it you I'm supposed to tell?" she asked.
"I should know?" he answered. "But I'm here."
"Did the Oversoul bring you out here?"
With the question put so directly, he couldn't evade it. "Yes," he said. "I think so."
She nodded. "Then I'll tell you. It makes sense, actually, that it be your family. Because there are so many people who hate your father because of his vision and his courage in proclaiming it."
"Yes," he said. And then, to prompt her: "The dream."
"I saw a man alone on foot, walking in the straight. He was walking through snow. Only I knew that it was tonight, even though there's not a speck of snow on the ground. Do you understand how I can know something, even though it's different from what the dream actually shows me?"
Remembering the conversation on the portico a week ago, Nafai nodded.
"So there was snow, and yet it was tonight. The moon was up. I knew it was almost dawn. And as the man walked along, two men wearing hoods sprang out into the road in front of him, holding blades. He seemed to know them, in spite of the hoods. And he said, ‘Here's my throat. I carry no weapon. You could have killed me at any time, even when I knew you were my enemy. Why did you need to deceive me into trusting you first? Were you afraid that death wouldn't bother me enough, unless I felt betrayed?'"
Nafai had already made the connection between her dream and Father's meeting, only a few hours away. "Gaballufix," said Nafai.
Luet nodded. "Now I understand that-but I didn't until I realized this was your father's house."
"No-Gaballufix arranged a meeting for Father and Roptat and him this morning, at the coolhouse."
"The snow," she said.
"Yes," he said. "It's always got frost in the corners."
"And Roptat," she whispered. "That explains-the next part of the dream."
Tell me,"
"One hooded man reached out and uncovered the face of his companion. For a moment I thought I saw a grin on his face, but then my vision clarified and I realized it wasn't his face that had the smile. It was his throat, slit clear back to the spine. As I watched him, his head lolled back and the wound in his throat opened completely, as if it were a mouth, trying to scream. And the man-the one that was me in the dream-"
"I understand," said Nafai. "Father."
"Yes. Only I didn't know that."
"Right," said Nafai. Impatiently, urging her to get on with it.
"Your father, if it was your father, said, ‘I suppose it will be said that I killed him.' And the hooded man says, ‘And you did, in very truth, my dear kinsman.'"
"He would say that," said Nafai. "So Roptat is supposed to die, too."
"I'm not done," said Luet. "Or rather, the dream wasn't finished. Because the man-your father-said, ‘And who will they say killed me? And the hooded one said, ‘Not me. I'd never lift a hand against you, for I love you dearly. I will merely find your body here, and your bloody-handed murderers standing over it.' Then he laughed and disappeared back into the shadows."
"So he doesn't kill Father."
"No. Your father turned around then and saw two other hooded men standing behind him. And even though they didn't speak or lift their hoods, he knew them. I felt this terrible sadness. ‘You couldn't wait,' he said to the one. "You couldn't forgive me,' he said to the other. And .then they reached out with their blades and killed him."
"No, by the Oversoul," said Nafai. "They wouldn't do it."
"Who? Do you know?"