"I believe you when you say that your father and his successors have friends in Karthay, from whom we may learn much, but what if you cannot go ashore?" he asked.
"Then I will send-no, I will ask-Haimya. She has kin in Karthay, and no one will doubt that she goes ashore to visit them."
"No one except those who know she is the lady of Sir Pirvan, Knight of the Rose, and guardian of as many secrets of the Solamnic Orders as he is. Would she thank you for allowing her to go into danger for no purpose?"
"She would not thank either of us for even hinting that she has become a hearthwife." Eskaia's grip on his arm tightened; he heard steel in her voice.
A man could laugh, if the stakes in this gamble were not so high. "I believe that if the roads were not spring mud, you would long since have taken to your litter, bound for Istar," Aurhinius said.
He felt rather than saw Eskaia smile. "I would have ridden," she said.
"Of course. I forget. Litters are for ladies, which you are not."
"Have I not proved it often enough, by word and deed?"
"To be sure, and I look forward to more of both," he sighed. "But, beloved, consider that you are the shield of Vuinlod."
"The shield?"
"Yes," he said. "The town and the people who have taken refuge here have more than enough enemies in the lands around them. As long as you are in Vuinlod, those who were your father's friends, and those who owe them friendship or money or favors-all of them will speak against moving on Vuinlod."
"It counts for something, I should think, that the town is across the border in Solamnia," Eskaia said.
"That border means nothing, if one cannot trust all the knights. You were not at Belkuthas, but you have heard of Sir Lewin. What if Sir Niebar is by chance leaving another such behind?"
"The folk I leave behind are alert."
"They will be more alert if you are watching them," he advised. "Also, only a fool will labor against Vuinlod under the eyes of its Princess.
"For now," he said, "I am the sword of Vuinlod, and we must allow other hands to touch or even wield that sword. You are the shield of the town. With the sword gone, you must remain fast to the other arm, to block blows until the sword returns."
"Gildas Aurhinius, you have turned poet," Eskaia said, so softly that her husband at first did not believe what he heard.
Then: "Very well. It shall be as you wish. I will remain here, and charge Haimya to visit Karthay in my name. Also, I will give you the names of certain friends in Karthay. If you have discreet persons whom you can send to these, you may learn more."
Aurhinius considered that if he had his old secretary Nemyotes, he could probably learn how many times Karthay's chief priest of Paladine visited the jakes each day! Nemyotes had not followed his commander to Vuinlod, however, but remained in Istar.
Well, that would have been another miracle, and Eskaia was miracle enough for one old warrior. That she would stay out of danger was almost another, so Aurhinius judged he should not really ask for more.
Chapter 6
Gerik wore his second-best tunic and his best traveling cloak for his supper in Ellysta's chamber. Everything else fit for visiting ladies either direly needed a stiff brush and a hot iron, or else had been a winter home for the moths.
He doubted that Ellysta was expecting a fine Istaran gallant, in either manners or garb, but if she was, she would just have to be disappointed. There was too much work at Tirabot, and too few hands to do it, for him to devote much effort to his clothing. Indeed, he wondered what Ellysta might be expecting in matters besides clothing. She said she was a merchant's daughter, who had lived on in the country after both her betrothed and her mother died, for her father had wed again and Ellysta and her stepmother struck sparks whenever they met.
It was not an implausible story, but Gerik remembered how in old tales women who came out of nowhere with such stories so often turned out to be wizards, dragons, or even goddesses in disguise.
Gerik doubted that Ellysta was any such thing. He had heard enough about her experience to know that no one able to prevent it would have endured it. Therefore she was mortal, and likely to be offering friendship in return for his hospitality. From such an honorable beginning, they need not go any farther. But if they did, it seemed likely that they would be good company for each other.
At least that was what Gerik told himself, as he strode across the courtyard, conscious of eyes on him and even one or two grins hastily hidden as he passed by. He was also conscious that under his tunic was a chain of fine gold, with good-luck blessings put on it by both Tarothin and Sirbones.
He wondered if the Red Robe wizard and the priest of Mishakal were ever coming back to Tirabot, even for a friendly visit. Or perhaps, hearing of his parents' embarking for Suivinari, the two old magicworkers would find the strength to go along with them?
He would have to ask, in his next message to his parents, although it might not reach them before they sailed. Indeed, he had begun to wonder if they had received his first message. Certainly he had received no reply.
"Your pardon, good sir."
Bertsa Wylum stood before him. He halted.
"What news?" he asked.
"A hunter came in, with word of a great roaring sound over toward the Huichpa Forest."
"That's Dirivan land, isn't it?"
"Near enough," she said, nodding. "They try to keep anyone but their foresters from cutting timber in it at least."
Gerik mentally calculated distances. "If it was that great, shouldn't we have heard it here?" he asked.
"Sometimes sound travels in freakish ways, so that you can be standing right in the middle of the thunder and not hear it." She lowered her voice. "But a sentry said he saw a big cloud of smoke off that way, just before the light went."
Gerik looked up. The sky was not only dark but starless. The air held the smell of oncoming rain, and the wind was rising.
"Unless you hear more," he told her, "there's no need to send anyone out with a storm coming on."
"We can't send people into the Huichpa by day, I'm afraid."
"No, but there will be less wild nights. Besides, tonight all the Dirivan riders will be out and alert."
"They might also find us hard to see," she said, "in the storm."
"Or we might find it hard to see anything, including ambushes and even where the sound came from."
"There's sense in that," Wylum admitted, though she sounded as if there was not normally enough sense for her to follow Gerik's orders. If he had not been the son of her sworn chief and commander…
Gerik watched Wylum turn away, and wondered why he had so little fear of such women. Doubtless most of it had to be the influence of his mother, who never held back a word she thought needed saying. His father had played a part as well. He had never questioned Haimya's right to say those words, or failed to listen to them-even when he afterward told her they were nonsense.
Horimpsot Elderdrake had never been so battered and miserable in his life as on his journey back to Tirabot, and that was before it started to rain.
After it started to rain, he would have been the most miserable kender on Krynn, not to mention the most improperly clad (at least among those kender doing things that required clothing). Fortunately, he had a small turn of luck just before the skies opened.
The lights of a farm shone off to his left, and by those lights he saw a farm wife taking in laundry from a rope strung between two pear trees. Elderdrake quickly darted into the orchard, and came out at what he intended to be the end of the rope farthest from the woman.
Instead, he emerged from the trees practically under her feet. She screamed and threw up her hands. The laundry basket fell, and the laundry flew. The kender did not stop to sort for size or color. He merely snatched the first three pieces that came to hand and darted back into the darkness.