The little girl looked up, ecstatic, her mouth and chin smeared with leaf pulp and fragments of fish. Too young to have her curly black hair caked with mud or wax to hold the rough gems that might buy her life from a dragon, she could have been an Aldabreshin child. The sweetness of her smile pierced Kheda as unbidden memories of his lost daughters assailed him.
Does this little one live like an animal because she knows no better? Could these people drag themselves out of filth and ignorance if their lives weren't brutalised by this accursed alliance between mageborn and dragons that makes them little more than geese penned for the slaughter?
Kheda watched Velindre standing by the fire pit and trying to convey her appreciation of the food to the women there with wordless gestures. The women were smiling tentatively. Kheda saw that the old woman whom they had first encountered was among them, looking more animated than he had yet seen her.
Emboldened, the old woman reached out to touch Velindre's golden hair. The magewoman stiffened for a moment, then bowed her head meekly. The other women laughed and several did the same. Velindre bore their curiosity with commendable patience. One of the other
savage women rubbed the cotton of the magewoman's sleeve between finger and thumb, her expression marvelling.
Kheda got to his feet and walked past the fire pit and through the scatter of rough huts. He noted cautious eyes following him and here and there he caught a thoughtful expression.
Ignorance is not the same as stupidity. I should remember that.
'Naldeth?' Kheda entered the dead mage's hut.
'Go away.' The young wizard's voice was muffled. He was lying on one of the heaps of grass and skins with his back to the door and the crude screens protecting him from breezes as well as the intrusive curiosity of the savages hovering outside the inadequate walls.
Not the dead mage's bed, nor yet the one where that murdered feathered girl offered herself to you as her old master's conqueror.
He glanced across the dim interior to see Risala sitting against one of the pillars supporting the roof. Her feet were drawn up and she was hugging her knees, her head resting on them and her face hidden by her arms. The food she had brought lay untouched on the ground beside her. Beyond her, Kheda saw a dull gleam in the shadows.
Why have you taken off your false leg?
It looked as if Naldeth had thrown the steel contrivance over there. One of the buckles had been almost wrenched off its strap.
'What exactly happened, with that black dragon?' Kheda asked quietly.
'It held me in thrall with its element so it could show me how to mend myself.' Naldeth's voice shook. 'They can do that, dragons, heal themselves. It could see how I was made and how I was injured and it knew how I could make myself whole again. You're a physician — you must
know there are rare earths in our bones and blood, that we'll sicken for lack of them. That dragon would have taught me how to use my elemental power to draw what I needed to renew blood and bone and flesh and skin out of the earth around me.'
'What did it want in return?' Kheda already knew the answer.
'That I let it feed on whatever people I have no use for.' Naldeth's voice was thick with loathing.
'And you refused that trade,' Kheda said firmly. 'I can't think of one other man in a thousand who would have had the fortitude to do that. You fought free of whatever elemental thrall it wrapped you in. You have nothing to reproach yourself for.'
'I could only break free of its earth magic because it misread my affinity.' Naldeth refused to be comforted. 'And curse it, I want two whole legs again. It knew that. You've no idea—'
'Being cut off from my family in Daish has been like losing a part of me,' Kheda said without heat. 'Losing my children, born of my flesh. I live with it because I have to. You do the same. You could have curled up and died when you lost your leg. As you say, I'm a physician. I've seen men die not from wounds like that but from despair. You didn't succumb to either. You didn't capitulate to the dragon, despite temptation few could withstand.'
And I cannot allow you to give in to despair or self-pity just at the moment. You don't seem to realise it, but this fight has barely begun. If I cannot rekindle your spirit, we're all dead.
'I don't see much virtue in declining to become a murderer,' Naldeth groused, but the anger in his voice was blunted.
kheda went to sit beside Risala, limbs leaden and
fatigue tightening his neck. He rolled his head on his shoulders to ease his neck as best he could.
At least I'm not wearing armour.
Risala didn't move. Kheda put an arm around her rigid shoulders with some difficulty. Her tunic was cold and damp and unpleasant to embrace. She didn't yield to his attempt to draw her close. Surprised, he reached over to brush tousled hair from her forehead, trying to raise her face with a gentle hand. She refused to cooperate, shoulders hunching.
'I hate this,' she muttered with low vehemence. 'I hate this place and I hate these people and I hate being so scared and I hate seeing no end to this chaos.'
Kheda still did his best to hug her. 'We've survived death and magic before.'
'This is different.' Risala looked up, her eyes flinty and cold in the muted light. 'Before, we were among our own islands, with some hope of fleeing to our own people if worst came to worst. We were risking our lives to save our own people and, beyond them, the wider Archipelago. You were reading the signs in the skies and in the earthly compass that offered us some hope that we would see peace and safety again. All the omens reassured us we were doing the right thing, even if we were breaking every law and custom. What do we have to guide us now, if you've abandoned all trust in such lore? I thought if you got away from Chazen, from all the demands and debates and the burdens upon you, you'd see the compass clearly again, out on the ocean with nothing between you and the stars.'
She looked out of the bright rectangle that was the hut's entrance, her face smudged where tears had mingled with windblown dirt. 'We weren't even supposed to make landfall here, or to get involved with these people. These wizards were supposed to keep us safe and bring us
home when we'd learned all we could to safeguard our own. What are we supposed to do now, Kheda? There's still a dragon and a wild mage between us and the Zaise and we've stirred up this place as thoroughly as if we'd stuck a stick in an anthill. How do we get out of here? How do we get back to the ship?'
Naldeth rolled over and sat up awkwardly. 'I know this isn't what we planned,' he began with some distress, 'but I'm sure we can leave soon enough. With the sky dragon gone and the skull-faced mage dead, I'm sure Velindre can work an effective translocation sooner or—'
'You don't think that black dragon will be back?' Risala looked angrily at the mage, flinging out a hand in the direction of the distant river. 'With his pet mage and as many spearmen as the tree dwellers can muster? Assuming it doesn't catch you off guard a second time, as soon as you're gone, these people will still be prey to the first wild wizard or hungry dragon that comes across them. Those who aren't killed outright will just be thrown into some foul stockade. You killed the mage who protected them, even if he was a monstrous man.'
She hunched her shoulders, hugging her knees again, refusing Kheda's embrace. 'Don't tell me you haven't realised all this, my lord of Chazen. And don't tell me you'll leave these people to death and torment, even if they are savages. I know you too well. What I don't know is how we're going to get out of this alive - and don't tell me you've any better idea, my lord, because you wouldn't accept an omen if it rose up in front of you. Not that that will stop you.' She pressed her mouth against her knees as if to stop herself saying anything more. Staring straight ahead, she refused to look at Kheda.