Lonal sighed. "My father was killed by traders. And I have been unable to fulfill my vendetta. Over the past few years I have realized the root of the problem – we Zyraii do notthink like our invaders. We don't understand their rules, if they have any, and therefore we do not anticipate their actions. I have been waiting for someone like you.
"I will be frank. I need you. I have seen your skill and your nature. You and your brother have clearly received long and hard training in the military arts. You understand the type of fighting which my people must now learn. Am I right?"
"Yes," Elenya said.
"I have yet to win your loyalty, but I can hope. I offer you an opportunity, at least. I don't know what goal you came to Zyraii with, but I can provide another of depth and honor. Help our nation remain free."
"Do I have a choice?" she asked.
"God gives us our roles to play. You lost your life your first day in our country by stealing water. I gave it back to you. Now you owe me, and you owe the family of Am and Roel. Until that debt is discharged, you are not free. If you decide to leave, I must order my Po-no-pha to hunt you down and kill you. But whether you cooperate with me or not is another matter."
His tone became almost confessional. "My father was once given an augury concerning my life and the threat of the traders. Because of it, I had to learn the High Speech. He would never tell me why. I never needed to use the language until you and your brother arrived. I suspect you are somehow part of the answer to this challenge. Why else would God have put me through all the trouble you've caused?"
She watched a squirrel race from branch to branch, automatically calculating the lead and force needed to shoot it down. "If I agree, when do we start?"
"Everything has to wait until you are an adult. It is more than three months until the next rite of thepulstrall. If you have advanced in your studies to the satisfaction of the Ah-no-ken, you will be permitted to participate. Po-no-pha do not listen to the advice of children."
"Or women."
"In your case, that has been taken care of."
"So you say."
"There will be problems. But God has performed a miracle, and my people believe in God."
Elenya plucked at the queeble. She had tasted a roasted one earlier that week and enjoyed it. It had pleased her to be able to choose one during the contest. Maybe she wasn't always able to make the rules, but sooner or later, she'd get what she wanted.
"I'll think about it," she said.
XV
LERINA SLID BACK AND FORTHon the film of sweat between their bodies. Her hair cascaded over Keron's face, smooth and ticklish. He didn't brush it away. She straightened up, the filtered light through the drapes catching the glisten of her breasts and collarbones. She rocked gently back and forth, the bed creaking pleasantly. Keron inhaled deeply. She had the skill of a veteran and the enthusiasm of a novice.
She coaxed it out of him with full, firm plunges and lifts. He clamped hands on her buttocks and strengthened the rhythm. It was more than an orgasm. To a man who thought he was dead only a month before, it was resurrection. Long after it was over, all he did was lay there and hope for more.
Lerina collapsed against him, tears in her eyes. "Good, huh?"
"No."
"No?"
He laughed. "No. It was too intense. I wouldn't survive another one like that."
She kissed his nipple. "You'll survive."
She rolled off and nestled against his side. Soon she giggled. "To think I have Uncle Ossatch to thank for all of this."
"Beg pardon?"
"If he hadn't virtually confined me to the cottage until my father comes back, everyone would have started to wonder by now why I'm spending so much time here. It's not like me."
Keron smiled and put an arm around her shoulders. "What will you tell your father about us? Will he punish you, too?"
"I doubt it. I'll tell him what I told Uncle Ossatch – that I ran off for a week with a fisherman's son. He'll probably shake his head and laugh. He did last time."
"Last time?"
"I did it before, when I was fifteen."
"You were a brazen young thing."
"I had wood for a brain. He was eighteen, and seemed so heroic. That was the period in my life when I thought all fishermen brave adventurers. By the end of it, I preferred the smell of the fish to that of my lover. And a fish would have been more interesting company."
"So now you've graduated to smugglers."
"Why not? They make better lovers." She began to throw on clothes. "I'm late. I'm supposed to help Brienna with the evening meal. Best not have her come looking for me."
She bent down and kissed him here and there. "See you after dinner? I'll save you some roast."
"Where else do I have to go?"
She pranced down the loft steps, spry as a fawn.
The islet stood nearly a mile off the coast, a forlorn piece of rock only a few feet wide, barely above the surface, the perfect design to poke holes in the hulls of unsuspecting vessels. A huge lantern had therefore been mounted on it, at the top of a high pole. The spot was visited only occasionally by Cilendri coast watchers, in order to fill the lantern's reservoir or relight the flame when doused by storms. The night was still and clear. One moment the beacon was deserted, kept company only by the waves. In the next, a man was there, pulling off his airmaker and buoyancy vest, dripping salt water.
Keron sniffed the ocean breeze, welcoming the air to his chest like a lost friend. He wore a pair of seal-hide breeches, weapons at his waist, his belt hidden underneath the garment. Goose pimples rose, but he faced the wind, standing firm. He was strong again. Three days before, he had felt the touch of sorcery that told him thatKing's Ransom had returned and Obo was near enough to work his spell. Within hours he had completed the remainder of his convalescence. His relief was acute. He had first won the protection of a healing spell over a decade before; to him, recovery from injuries, however great, should not have involved so much time. At last he was whole.
And alone.
Back in Garthmorron, supper would be over. Lerina would be back in the cottage. She would have found his note, and the one paltry gift he could leave. Keron felt a lump rising in his throat.
He could still turn back. But his enemies would come for him, sooner or later, and find Lerina. Perhaps he could leave behind old duties and loyalties, but he couldn't risk her safety. Moreover, he had a specific job to do.
"Forgive me," he whispered.
He sat down to wait in the dark and wet.
Admiral Warnyre paced the poop deck, staring out at the foggy night. His plans had gone awry, and he didn't like it. Furthermore, he was rapidly running out of time to do anything about it.
A man climbed the steps and approached. Warnyre turned.
"Yes, Ensign?" It was Enret, one of the last people he had cared to see. The junior officer had always been one of Keron's staunch aides.
"It's time to send the boat to the rendezvous, sir. Bhaukom and I request permission to man it."
Warnyre frowned. "I had planned to send Robbern and Nals."
"I know, sir. But the captain and me – we go back a ways. I'd like to do this for him."
Still another wrinkle, Warnyre thought. But he made his mind up quickly. "Very well, Ensign. Proceed."
Warnyre watched the dinghy being lowered. As he expected, Nals soon joined him on the poop.
"Change of plan, sir?" the midshipman asked meaningfully.
"Yes," the admiral replied. "Lay low for a while. Don't do anything unless I tell you."
Nals left. Soon the dinghy was lost in the fog. Warnyre went to his cabin to get out of the weather. In a way, he was glad Enret had volunteered to take the boat. It was known that Warnyre favored Robbern and Nals. If anything happened to Keron while in the company of those two, suspicion would fall on him. Additionally, Robbern and Nals might have failed, just as the Claw had done. The passive route was safest. There was no reason to think that Keron would connect him with the ambush. He would play the innocent, until another opportunity arrived.