Joren nearly bit his tongue to keep from asking what was wrong.
Esidio sighed very deeply, and Joren noticed beads of sweat on his forehead. The priest didn't answer, only crawled deep into his storage niche. Joren heard a heavy lid being lifted and set down. Soon Esidio crawled out carrying a scroll, its finely wrought container incongruous among the Zee-no-ken's humble possessions. He opened the roll and searched, all the while ignoring Joren. Finally he stopped at a specific passage and recited from it.
They, of dragonkiller's blood
Will the Eastern Deserts wander
In search of ancient weapons
Against an ancient enemy
"Esidio?" Joren asked softly.
He seemed calmer. He closed the scroll and said solemnly, "I must end my hermitage and return to Setan." Then, more confidently, he looked at Joren and said, "And you must prepare yourself for a lifetime of challenges. This," he said as he held up the parchment, "is my copy of the prophecies of Shahera, the greatest master of the Sight ever to have lived. She foretold the waning of the Calinin Empire, for which she was executed."
"What does this have to do with my question?"
"Everything. Yours was that question which I, like all my kind, wait for – in dread or longing, depending on the circumstances. One never knows when it will arrive. Today the Sight reached out and showed me strands of time and chance that may affect the life and history of half the continent. I saw the Zyraii that may be; I saw the Zyraii that would have been had you not asked me to make this augury."
"All in a few moments?"
"Yes. And I will live with it for the rest of my days. I can't reveal more to you. You are too near the crux of events, and the cloth is still in the loom. We both have our parts to play – you will be the one who acts, without knowing the outcome; I will know the outcome, but do nothing. Each with one exception."
"What is my exception?"
"The answer to your question: See that your son is taught the High Speech of the Calinin. He must be ready when the prophecy of Shahera is fulfilled." His voice lowered. "As must I be."
"The High Speech?" Joren repeated, mystified.
Esidio stood, holding the scroll and gazing in the direction of Setan, turning his back to Joren. "Go, my friend. We will hear of each other again, though we shall not meet. Remember what I have said, but tell no man save your child."
Joren was already far away, the priest's instructions etched absently like an ancient childhood lesson. Your son. Like Esidio, he had been answered more completely than he had anticipated. The journey out of the hills was short.
XII
ASLONAL AND HIS COMPANIONwatched, the riders wheeled and charged toward the target again. The westerner, as usual, seized the lead, her cowl flapping wildly, spilling some of her dark tresses. She let go of the reins, guiding the oeikani with her knees, and reached toward her quiver. In one motion she pulled an arrow free, cocked it back, and fired. The bundle of hide jerked on its pole as the arrow struck. The other archers were only a moment behind. The bundle spun and flopped, bristling like a pin cushion from this and previous passes. The ground nearby was littered with spent shafts, both those that had missed and those that had been flung free by subsequent impacts. The target nearly shredded, the riders pulled up, dismounted, and began to sort their arrows from the rest.
"Impressive," Lonal's companion said, nodding toward the stranger. They watched as she tucked her hair back into her cowl. The clan of T'krt had been joined by the T'lan and the Ena during the past day, and formal wear was necessary. In fact, Lonal and Ulnam, war-leader of the Ena, had never seen each other's faces, though Lonal was betrothed to marry Ulnam's daughter when she came of age. "Is the other one that good?"
"Possibly, but Tebec doesn't show off like that."
"Four hits out of ten," Ulnam added. "He must have started young."
"No," Lonal said. "Actually, Yetem tells me that in his country, they only use the long bow. It is forest country. They hunt large animals, which they approach in stealth, and need the extra power to bring them down. Not like us, who have to hit, from oeikani-back, the small creatures that scurry from rock to rock. He neglected to learn the bow until he arrived here; those in his land required too much upper-body strength."
"He does have narrow shoulders for a warrior," Ulnam admitted.
"Where they come from, it is the men who have teats and nurse the babies after the women give birth," Lonal said gravely.
Ulnam held his composure for almost the count of five, then the facade cracked. They shared a hearty guffaw. It did Lonal good to joke. Too many within the recently arrived clans had been displeased to hear the story of Tebec and Yetem. Outside of the T'krt clan, loyalty to Lonal was not as entrenched, and a few voices dared to speak of heresy. None, of course, would challenge Toltac's word, for he was opsib over them all, but people muttered all the same. Ulnam and Lonal had always been on good terms; it was gratifying to see that this had not changed.
In some ways, it was easier for Lonal than for the westerners themselves, who were once more the center of attention. All the T'lan and the Ena wanted to view firsthand this man-who-didn't-look-like-a-man.
The contest was over, and the participants left to join their families. The reunion celebrations that had taken up the past day would have to yield to the necessity of movement. The most desolate, most dangerous portion of the migration lay just ahead of them – the journey through the Pass of Hattyre. Lonal and Ulnam surveyed the low, blistered hills to the east.
"When do you expect it? As we enter, or at the fork?"
"I never know what to expect where the Buyul are concerned."
"True."
Grim, they parted, each off to their responsibilities as war-leader, Ulnam looking after his clan, Lonal the authority over all three. Lonal rode back to the rear of the clan. His war-seconds could handle the front well enough; his greatest worry was the stragglers. A dragging end could put the caravan in danger, should the raid happen at the wrong time. They had to make speed over Hattyre.
Things were proceeding well. Soon virtually every member of the clan was under way. The only exceptions were two women, one elderly, the other in late youth, who stood several hundred paces behind the departing end of the caravan. The old one was removing her clothes and handing them to the other. When she was naked, she sat her frail body down in the dirt beside the trail. The younger woman bundled the clothing in her arms and headed back toward the caravan. The old woman bowed her head and did not look up again.
Lonal watched respectfully, as he had done many times. The old woman left behind was Mada's grandmother. He had foreseen this. She had barely kept up in the flat; she couldn't be expected to maintain the pace needed through the pass. He nodded to Mada's wife, the woman carrying the clothes, as she reached his position.
Lonal turned back to his duties, inevitably thinking of the time when he might be in the old woman's place. Of course, as a Po-no-pha, he would keep his garments – his weapons, too, if he were selfish – and would hear the high Ah-no-ken recite the hour-long rite of death, but he would wait in the desert all the same. The fact that he would return one day to the world, and the woman would not, was slight comfort. He couldn't decide which was better – a sudden death in battle or, like Mada's grandmother, to be able to choose the time and place.
He worked his way gradually through the procession. The broad, amorphous columns of the earlier part of the journey were consolidating toward the gap in the hills ahead. Soon they would be able to travel only two or three abreast. Then they would be vulnerable.
Shigmur joined him.
"The first night's watch has been assigned," the war-second reported. "What about them?"
He pointed not far ahead. There, Tebec and Yetem walked beside Fumlok, their wives and children following. Having lost their oeikani to Kulam, the twins had to travel on foot. They owned two other animals, but they were of the drelb breed and suitable only as pack animals. Yetem had already returned the mount she had borrowed for the contest.