Halice disposed of their query briskly and came down the deck to join us. Her gait was more even but still unbalanced, and I wondered again about the extent that her injury had been healed. Was this as good as her leg was to get? If so, her future looked as if it would be in organizing a corps rather than fighting with it. Perhaps this was her start in that line of work.
“So what’s the plan?” asked Shiv at once.
“Rosarn takes her scouts and begins quartering the ruins, trying to get a line on major landmarks and buildings, to get ourselves oriented correctly.” Halice waved at the woman in black who was now poring over a freshly pale parchment with a lad I recognized as one of Mentor Tonin’s pupils, called Parril or something similar. “Minare and his lads are to clear the wharf, try and get an anchorage prepared so we can bring the ship in close and not have to ferry people on and off with the boats all the time.” She looked sharply at Shiv. “That would be a cursed sight quicker and easier with some help from you mages, you know.”
I cursed and clutched at the ship’s rail as my vision suddenly swam and shifted, thickets of matted vegetation vanishing to show me stout wharves of dressed stone where now a crumbled bank slid crookedly into the water, sturdy houses lined up around a flagged market square, unsuspecting people busy about their everyday lives, all unaware of the approaching Elietimm threat.
“What is it?” Livak was watching me warily.
“D’Alsennin,” I said curtly, making a conscious effort to loosen my whitened knuckles. “I’m remembering things he knew here.”
A fleeting look of unhappiness came and went in Livak’s eyes.
“You really don’t like this, do you?” I challenged her, knowing it was probably a mistake but sick of the way she had been avoiding me.
“What do you think?” she spat back. “I know it’s not your fault and I’m sorry for it, but that aetheric magic killed Geris, and it killed Aiten. One of those Elietimm bastards got inside my head and nearly pushed me into madness as well. Just the thought of someone else’s mind lurking inside yours makes my skin crawl.”
“I’ve got it under control,” I replied, just about managing not to raise my voice in frustration and anger.
“I don’t think so.” Livak shook her head, her face pale beneath the freckles raised by sun and wind. “Last time we shared a bed, when you melted in passion, your eyes changed and you called me Guinalle again. I keep seeing someone else looking at me through your eyes, especially when you’re tired.”
I managed to hold my tongue, getting a firm grip on the outraged denial that had to be Temar’s, but that very realization brought the truth of Livak’s words home to me. I saw tears standing in her emerald eyes, belying the firm set of her jaw. I took a deep breath, knowing any more argument between us would be as destructive to us both as two eagles locking their talons in battle only to crash together on to the rocks below. A tremor threatened my composure as I realized I could not say whether the memory of such a sight in boyhood was Temar’s or my own.
Drawing a deep breath, I looked at Shiv, who was shifting from one foot to the other, looking acutely embarrassed. Halice’s expression was unreadable as always.
“Arest will be going with Lessay and his troop,” she continued, as if there had been no interruption. “We want to find some defensible position, somewhere with a vantage point on the shoreline would be best.”
“You want Den Rannion’s steading.” The words were out of my mouth before I could help myself and I gritted my teeth.
Halice looked at me, keen speculation in her hard eyes. “Where’s that? What’s it like?”
I looked landward but the unfamiliar lines of river and shore meant I could not place any of Temar’s memories. “So much has changed.” I frowned.
“The lay of the land shifts over the generations,” said Shiv thoughtfully. “It won’t be so marked on the ocean coast, where you come from, Rysh, but big rivers like this carve the land over time and the sea carries sand along the shoreline with every season.”
I ignored him. “It was a good stone-built hall by the end, with a sound perimeter wall and a gate-house. Even if the roof’s come in, I’d say the masonry should still be standing.” I blinked as judgments learned at my father’s elbow mingled oddly with Temar’s memories of Den Rannion’s sturdily built home. “It was on the other side of an inlet from the main wharf, with its own river access.”
“Let’s see if we can find it.” Halice turned and waved to Lessay, the third of Arest’s troop commanders. He headed for us without further ado, nailed boots ringing on the decking. About a full hand’s width taller even than me, he was thin as a rail, long blond hair pulled back into a ratty braid with humorous blue eyes and an indeterminate accent dominated by recent years in Lescar. I was still finding it hard to see how he and Arest managed to work together so well, given the contrast between the commander’s uncompromising use of his authority to achieve things and the way Lessay accomplished his results with good-humored jokes and encouragement.
“Ryshad thinks he knows somewhere that might make a secure encampment,” Halice explained.
“Go on,” Lessay urged us to elaborate.
I was grateful he was prepared to take Halice’s word at face value; Arest was the sort to test word or coin in every way short of melting it down. Taking a deep breath, I tried to look at the river bank through Temar’s eyes, or was that wrong? Should he be looking through my eyes? I shook my head absently, searching my memory for any dreams of the settlement that Temar had inflicted on me. The scene before me melted abruptly away and the daylight faded to be replaced by a winter’s dusk. Bright radiance put the darkness to flight, warm orange flames denying the chill of the year’s end. The stiffening wind carried the scents of incense and perfumed woods burning on braziers, while more purposeful fires sent the savor of roasting meat into the air. Laughter and snatches of music rebounded from the stony heights to carry the festival to the ships. I flinched as a gust threw a handful of sleet into my eyes, but when I raised my hand I found my face was dry.
“Ryshad?” asked Livak gently.
I looked down at my fingers, the nails blued with cold, now fading fast in the hot still warmth of the morning as Livak laid her own hand over mine in mute reassurance.
“It’s over there.” I looked at the view with new eyes, Temar’s memories overlaying the indistinguishable hummocks and thickets to show me houses and alleys in a disconcerting manner that I didn’t want to examine too closely. “Do you see that crag on the skyline? Take a line down from there—see where the rock outcrops at the water’s edge. The inlet used to run pretty much from that lone tree to the thing with the yellow blossoms. The steading should be just about in the middle of those stands of that long grassy stuff.”
“Let’s get to it.” Lessay let loose another of those piercing whistles the mercenaries used among themselves and waved in the rowing-boat from the shore. “Maraide, Jervice, fetch some axes and the like.”
The longboat was uncomfortably laden when we pushed off from the ship, with entirely too little freeboard for my peace of mind. We landed without mishap, however, and gathered some more help from Minare’s troop, who were only too glad to leave off wrestling with fallen blocks of masonry knee deep in the mud. I led the way confidently across the hidden remnants of the settlement toward Den Rannion’s steading, my feet on oddly familiar ground. My boot heel rang on stone and I halted, looking down to see the flagstones of the marketplace, broken and tilted at odd angles.