Tigana by Guy Kay (novel24 txt) 📕

before a castle kitchen fire among the servants in the last dark hour before dawn, easing into wakefulness and a fugitive warmth, preparing for the road again and whatever turnings it might offer in the day that had not yet begun.

It seemed to Devin that Alessan and Erlein, sitting together as they were, were bonded in some way that went beyond the harsh thing that had happened by that twilit stream in Ferraut. It was a linkage that had nothing to do with Prince and wizard, it was shaped of the things they each had done. The same things done. Memories they would each have and could share, if these two men could truly share anything after what had happened between them.

For years they had each been travelling. There had to be so many images that overlapped and could evoke the same mood, emotions, the same sounds and smells. Like this one: darkness outside, the edge of grey dawn and the castle stir the sun would bring, chill of the corridors and knowledge of wind outside the walls, cut by the crackle and roar of the kitchen fire; the reassuring steam and smell rising from their cradled mugs; sleep and dream receding, the mind slowly turning forward to the day that lay ahead swathed in ground mist. Looking at their stillness amid the bustle of the kitchen Devin felt another return of the sadness that seemed to be his legacy from this long strange night in the highlands.

Sadness, and a distinct stir of longing. Devin realized that he wanted that shared history for himself, wanted to be a part of that self-contained, accomplished fraternity of men who knew this scene so well. He was young enough to savour the romance of it, but old enough—especially after this past winter and his time with Menico—to guess at the price demanded for those memories and the contained, solitary, competent look of the two men in front of him.

He stepped through the doorway. A pretty servant noticed him and smiled shyly. Without a word she brought him a mug of scalding khav. Alessan glanced over at him and hooked a third chair with his long leg, pulling it into a position near him by the fire. Devin walked over and sank gratefully down near the warmth. His stiffened neck was still bothering him.

‘I didn’t even have to be charming,’ Alessan reported cheerfully. ‘Erlein was already here and had started in on a fresh pot of khav. There were people in the kitchen all night to keep the fires going. Couldn’t have lit new ones on an Ember Day.’

Devin nodded, sipping carefully and with intense gratitude from his steaming mug. ‘And the other question you mentioned?’ he asked guardedly, with a glance at Erlein.

‘Solved,’ the Prince said promptly. He seemed unnaturally bright, brittle as kindling. ‘Erlein’s going to have to come with me. We’ve established that I can’t let him get too far away or my summons won’t work. And if that’s the case, well he simply has to go where I go. All the way west. We really do seem to be tied together, don’t we?’ He flashed his teeth in a smile at the wizard. Erlein didn’t bother to respond; he continued to sip his drink, gazing expressionlessly into the fire.

‘Why were you up so early?’ Devin asked him, after a moment.

Erlein made a sour face. ‘Slavery doesn’t agree with my rest,’ he mumbled into his khav.

Devin elected to ignore that. There were times when he really did feel sorry for the wizard, but not when Erlein trotted out his reflexive self-pity.

A thought struck Devin. He turned to Alessan. ‘Is he going to your meeting this morning, too?’

‘I suppose,’ Alessan said with apparent carelessness. ‘A small reward for his loyalty and the long ride he’ll have afterwards. I expect to travel without stopping very much.’ His tone was genuinely odd; too deliberately casual, as if denying the very possibility of strain.

‘I see,’ Devin said, as neutrally as he could manage. He turned his gaze to the fire and kept it there.

There was a silence. When it stretched, Devin looked back and saw Alessan looking at him.

‘Do you want to come?’ the Prince asked.

Did he want to come? For half a year, from the moment Devin and Sandre had joined the other three, Alessan had been telling them that everything they wanted to achieve would point towards and wait upon a meeting in these southern highlands on the first of the Ember Days.

Did he want to come?

Devin coughed, spilling some khav on the stone floor. ‘Well,’ he said, ‘not if I’m in the way, naturally. Only if you think I could be useful and if maybe I could . . .’

He trailed off because Alessan was laughing at him.

Even Erlein had been roused from his sulk to a faint, reluctant snort of amusement. The two older men exchanged a glance.

‘You are a terrible liar,’ the wizard said to Devin.

‘He’s right,’ Alessan said, still chuckling. ‘But never mind. I don’t actually think you can be useful—it isn’t in the nature of what I have to do. But I’m certain you won’t do any harm and you and Erlein can keep each other entertained. It’ll be a very long ride.’

‘What? To the meeting?’ Devin asked, startled.

Alessan shook his head. ‘Only two or three hours there, depending on the state of the pass this morning. No, Devin, I’m inviting you west with me.’ His voice altered. ‘Home.’

‘PIGEON!’ THE BALDING, burly-chested man cried, though they were still some distance away. He sat in a massive oak chair set squarely down in the middle of the Braccio Pass. There had been early spring flowers blooming on the lower slopes but not very many this far up. On either side of the path piled rock and stone yielded to forest. Further up, to the south, there was only rock and snow.

Carrying-poles were attached to the oak chair and six men stood behind it in burgundy livery. Devin thought