Tigana by Guy Kay (novel24 txt) 📕

sent a chill into Devin. ‘Eanna light your path through the Ember Days and beyond.’ He paused, glanced at Erlein. ‘All three of you.’

Alessan’s expression spoke a world of things. ‘And yours, the three of you,’ was all he said though, before he turned his horse and started away to the west.

Following him, Devin glanced back once and saw that Baerd had not moved. He sat astride his horse watching them, and the sunlight fell on his hair and beard burnishing them back towards the golden colour Devin remembered from their first meeting. He was too far away for his expression to be discerned.

Devin raised a hand in farewell, palm spread wide and then, surprised and gladdened, saw Erlein abruptly do the same.

Baerd lifted one arm high in salute to them, then twitched his horse’s reins and turned north to ride away.

Alessan, setting a steady pace into the setting sun, did not look back at all.

Part Four

The Price of Blood

Chapter XIII

Some time before dawn—she wasn’t sure what hour it was—Dianora rose from bed and walked to the windows overlooking her balcony. In the end, she had not slept all night. Neither, as it happened, had her brother, a very long way to the south, fighting in the Ember war and then sharing the beginning of spring on a hilltop won from the Darkness.

She herself had shared nothing with anyone that night, lying alone in her bed, visited by ghosts and memories. Now she looked out upon a cold darkness that had little in it of springtime or the promise of growth to come. The late stars still shone though the moon had long since set. A wind blew in from off the sea. She could just make out the banners flapping from the masts of the ships in the harbour beyond the Ring Dive pier.

One of those ships was newly in from Ygrath. It had carried Isolla the singer here. It would not carry her back.

‘Khav, my lady?’ Scelto said quietly from behind her. She nodded without turning. ‘Please. And then come sit with me, we have something to talk about.’ If she moved quickly enough, she thought, if she set it all in motion without giving herself time for hesitation or fear, she might possibly do this thing. Otherwise she was lost.

She could hear Scelto bustling efficiently in the small kitchen that was a part of her suite of rooms. The fire had been kept going all night. Ygrath might not observe the same spring and autumn rituals as the Palm, but Brandin had seldom interfered with local customs or religion, and Dianora never lit a new flame on any of the Ember Days. Neither did most of the women in the saishan, if it came to that. The eastern wing of the palace would be a dark place after sunset for two more nights.

She thought about stepping out on the balcony, but it looked much too cold. There were no signs of life yet down below. She thought about Camena di Chiara. At sunrise they would probably bring him out, his bones broken, to die on a wheel in the sight of the people. She turned her mind away from that image too.

‘Here is the khav,’ Scelto said. ‘I made it very strong,’ he added awkwardly.

She did turn at that, and her heart ached a little to see the helpless worry in his eyes. She knew how he would have grieved for her last night. The marks of sleeplessness were in his face; she supposed they were in her own as well. She could guess how she must look this morning. She forced a smile and accepted the mug he offered. It was warm to her hand and comforting, even before she drank.

She sat in one of the chairs by the window and motioned him to the other. He hesitated a moment and then sat down. She was silent, weighing her words. She realized, abruptly, that she had no idea how to do this subtly. So much, she thought wryly, for the cynical manipulator of the court.

Taking a deep breath, she said, ‘Scelto, I need to be out on the mountain this morning alone. I know all of the difficulties, but I have my reasons and they are important. How can we arrange it?’

His smooth brow furrowed. He said nothing though, and she realized that he was thinking about an answer to her question, not trying to judge or understand it. She had feared a different sort of reaction, but realized, belatedly, that she should not have. Never with him.

He said, ‘It will depend on whether they do the mountain run today.’

Her heart swelled with love for him. He hadn’t even asked her reasons. ‘Why would they not run it?’ she asked stupidly, and realized the answer even as he replied.

‘Camena,’ he said. ‘I don’t know if the King will allow the spring run on the same day as an execution. If they are doing the race then you will be invited to come watch the ending from the King’s pavilion in the meadow as you always are.’

‘I have to be alone,’ she repeated. ‘And up the mountain.’

‘Alone with me,’ he modified. It was almost a plea. She sipped her khav. This was the difficult part. ‘Some of the way, Scelto,’ she said. ‘There is a thing I must do there by myself. I will have to leave you partway up.’

She watched him wrestle with that. Before he could speak she added, ‘I would not say this if it were not necessary. There is no one I would rather have by my side.’

She did not say what it was necessary for and she saw him fighting to hold back the question. He did hold it back though, and she knew what it would have cost him.

He rose. ‘I’ll have to find out