Lord Athlone and Gabria had returned to the palace, where Gabria and the Shar-Ja were slowly recovering from the effects of the poison. Rafnir had gone down to help Athlone, but he came back in the evening hill of news.
“The last of the Fel Azureth surrendered this afternoon,” he announced with deep satisfaction. “Mohadan’s men routed them out of an old storehouse. The Gryphon’s army in Cangora has been completely destroyed.”
Kelene looked involuntarily in the direction of the temple. “And what of Zukhara?”
“The Shar-Ja ordered his body brought down from the temple and hung on a gibbet at the front gate. He is spreading the word that the Gryphon died a traitor’s death.”
The sorceress thought of the golden gryphon and the faith and loyalty she symbolized to the Turics. “He did,” she replied shortly.
Rafnir glanced at his father. “Hajira has been restored to his command with hill honors. He is reorganizing the survivors of the Shar-Ja’s guard. Tassilio told his father everything, and the old man is so grateful to have his son restored to him, he would give Hajira the world if he asked for it.”
Sayyed only nodded a reply.
A hush settled over the courtyard. The evening sounds became subdued and distant in the tranquil peace before sunset. The cloister basked in the last of the day’s glow.
Helmar’s gasp came as a surprise to all three of them. Her mouth opened and closed; then her eyes widened in surprise. She held up her bandaged arms and felt the stitches on her face. “Sayyed?” her voice croaked.
He took her hands in both of his and tenderly pressed them to her chest.
“Don’t try to talk,” Kelene advised. “Your face is still bruised and swollen, and there are stitches on your jaw and along your forehead. Just rest, and we’ll tell you everything later.” She fixed more restorative tea for Sayyed to give Helmar, this time laced with a dose of poppy juice to help her sleep.
When Helmar slept again, Sayyed looked more hopeful. “This is the first time she has tried to talk.”
“That’s a good sign,” Kelene told him in all sincerity. “She is strong and healthy. She knows you are here, too. That will help.”
Kelene was right. At sunrise the next morning she went out to the courtyard and found Marron lying on her belly, her legs tucked neatly under her, nibbling hay from a pile under her nose. Helmar lay awake, her eyes fastened on Sayyed’s sleeping face.
Her alert gaze followed Kelene around while she checked Marron’s stitches, changed her bandages, and fed her a small bucket of bran mash.
“Will she be all right?” Helmar whispered anxiously in a voice dry and raspy from disuse.
“As right as you,” Kelene replied softly. She examined Helmar’s wounds, too, and gave the chief a reassuring smile. “It was not your day to die. The Harbingers must have been too busy to catch you. Both of you were badly injured, and you will carry the scars. But your wounds are clean and healing well. I think you’ll be able to go home soon.”
“Home,” Helmar echoed. Her eyes followed Kelene back into the building before they returned to Sayyed’s face. “Home,” she repeated, but the happiness she should have felt at such a thought was missing. There was only uneasiness and the fear of impending loss.
Two days later the Clannad carried Helmar on a litter down the road to the palace. Accompanied by the clan magic-wielders, she was escorted to a chamber beside a quiet garden where Marron was settled comfortably on a soft green lawn of grass. It was then the chief heard of Rapinor’s death and learned the casualties of her troop. Fifteen riders had died in the battle at the gates; twenty more had been wounded. Helmar turned her face to the wall to hide her tears.
From that day on she had a constant stream of visitors, from the Shar-Ja and Tassilio to Lord Athlone and the clan chieftains who had come with him. From all her visitors she began to piece together the full tale of the past days.
“Now let me see if I have all of this,” she said to Sayyed one evening. “Lord Athlone captured a raiding party of the Fel Azureth and learned about the Gryphon and his plans.”
“Right. Zukhara had sent his fanatics to cause trouble on the border, hoping we would do just what we did—call for a council. We walked neatly into his trap, bringing Kelene and Gabria with us. Once Athlone learned what was going on, he convinced the other chiefs to support a move over the Altai to help the Shar-Ja. He had already gathered the Werods of five clans before Rafnir found him. With those and the men from Council Rock, they rode here in less than four days.”
“Four days,” she breathed, awed by such a feat. “And is Mohadan doing well?”
“He is in his element.” Sayyed laughed. “The clan lords have been staying out of the way and leaving restoration of the government to Mohadan and the Shar-Ja. Mohadan is making himself indispensable. He’s already brought news that the extremists’ rebellion is failing. Without Zukhara there are no other leaders to take firm command, and word that the Shar-Ja is recovering and has announced a new heir has strengthened his position. There is still a deep loyalty and respect for the Shar-Ja.”
“Will he fully recover?” she asked.
“It looks as though he will. He and Gabria both grow stronger every day.”
Helmar leaned back against her pillows and sighed. Through the open doors of her room she could see Marron grazing, and she winced at the red lines that crisscrossed the mare’s white neck, chest, and shoulders. Helmar hadn’t seen a mirror lately, but she imagined she looked equally as rough. Her eyes turned back to Sayyed.
He had hardly left her side the past few days, except to clean off the grime of war and deal with his own needs. The rest of the time he had stayed with her, changing her bandages, feeding her broth and tea, telling her stories and news, or just keeping her company in the quiet hours when she rested.
Anyone else spending so much time with her, she probably would have thrown out, but Helmar found she craved Sayyed’s company. She missed him horribly when he left, and she cherished every moment he spent with her. Kelene had told her about Tam and Sayyed’s vigil at her dying, and Helmar realized he was terrified of losing her, too. The knowledge strengthened her will to recover and forged her feelings for him into an abiding passion.
As the days rolled into the hot Turic summer, Helmar rapidly improved under the care of Sayyed, Kelene, and the Turic healers. One morning she felt strong enough to walk around the garden with Marron. The walk was glorious, but it made her realize how weak she had become. She began to walk every day, exercise with her sword, and retrain her muscles to regain her former strength and agility. The day the stitches came out she celebrated by going for a ride. Afer offered to carry her, since Marron was not yet ready to carry a rider, and Helmar delightedly rode the big stallion around Cangora to see the sights.
Much of the damage caused by the fighting had been repaired by city builders and the Clannad riders whose magic helped speed things along. Rafnir helped, too, learning at the same time much about construction and architecture. He and the other sorcerers had rehung the copper gates and rebuilt the walls.
Zukhara’s body had been taken down by that time to be burned and his ashes thrown to the winds. A few of his officers languished in the dungeons awaiting trial.
A month passed in peace and growing optimism. At last the time arrived when Lord Bendinor and the other clan lords prepared to leave for the Ramtharin Plains and the summer gathering. Lord Athlone decided to postpone his return until Gabria and Helmar were strong enough to travel. Savaron, he knew, was quite capable of taking the Khulinin to the gathering.
Two days before the clansmen were due to leave, the Shar-Ja called for a council to be held in his audience chambers the next day. When Helmar heard of it, she asked to speak to Lady Gabria alone. Gabria came, bringing Lady Jeneve’s book and the red cloak. They talked for several hours, and what they had to say to each other they kept to themselves. As soon as Gabria left, Helmar called her riders. She brought them all into her room and talked with them for several hours more. When they had said all there was to say, she bid them go to the Shar-Ja’s council.