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where Chayin crouched over the body. But for the fact that the back of her skull had broken open, she might have been asleep. The cahndor sat cross-legged beside her, his eyes closed. There was a small but prudent crowd, still as statues upon the white walk. No sound came from them. Sereth stopped still a moment. He sheathed his gol-knife. Then he went and sat upon the right hand of the cahndor. His knee touched the cahndor s as he assumed a position identical to Chayin s. He, too, closed his eyes, his hands quiet in his lap. At Chayin s discretion, they would start the keening. But a time of silence, first, do Parsets give their dead, that the totality of the grief may be gathered before it is sung upon the wind. One loves, upon the moment of loss, as one can never love aforetime. The Parsets call it their greatest gift to the dead. It comes in silence and goes in song, the assumption of the chaldra of the soil. Carth also sat, upon Sereth s right, for he had not well known the Nemarchan. They still sat thusly when Khys appeared and stood staring down. Carth rose, thinking to calm the dharen, prevent him from breaking the silence. Khys s face dissuaded him. Sereth, Khys snapped, I need you. It is over-long you have delayed. Implement my will. Bring me Gherein! His knuckles were white upon his chald. His voice rang out over the Lake of Horns. An impious ebvrasea screeched, invisible in the clouds. Sereth opened his eyes and regarded Khys coldly. I am, at the moment, he said quietly, otherwise engaged. Ask me another day. Now! spat Khys. His eyes under arched brows caused Carth to step backward. When you again have what has been lost, said Sereth, and lowered his head, returned to the formal grieving aspect. By morning, or I will deal with you as I will deal with Gherein, decreed Khys. And he whirled and strode back the way he had come. But Sereth did not seem to hear, nor Chayin either, Carth recalled. They but sat there. That night, we heard their keening. And I feared, once again, listening to him. The hair rose up on my skin in that dank place. I pulled my mind from his, that I not see what else he had to tell. But I knew, then, that he had not fallen from any height. And why he had brought me here, I knew, also. Carth, seeing my agitation, sank down beside me. At sun s rising, Khys bid me take ten men of my choosing. He also bade me try to keep the cahndor from becoming involved. That, I could not do. He shook his head, his countenance mere shadow play in the dimness. We lost six men to them, all highly skilled, before we took them. I assumed you would see Sereth first. The cahndor is in the tower s holding keep. I hardly heard him. I sought Sereth s mind. It should have been easy, so close. I found nothing. What ... ? It was inaudible. What has been done to him? Carth shrugged, sank farther back against the stone. We lost six men. We had to beat them both unconscious. Men do not heal fast while restrained. I stared at him. I knew well what feats of healing might be accomplished at the Lake of Horns. I no longer cared about Gherein or Khys. Will they live? Page 92 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html I asked, rising. I felt no inclination to sit by Carth. Neither will die from what wounds they sustained. Khys had set a date for Sereth s ending only. Of course. It is one thing to kill an arrar, another the cahndor of Nemar and co-cahndor of the Taken Lands. My voice shook. Do not be so sure, Carth said, low. Khys has judged them both, and his judgment was the same. Estri ... I recoiled from his touch, my face pressed to the chill stone. I would not cry. I would see him. And I would give him aid, some way. Take me to him, I said, pushing away from the wall, my eyes upon the taernite floor. I spoke no word to Carth as he led me down the middle passage. He was wise not to speak. Or to touch me. If he had touched me then, I would have leaped upon him and torn his eyes out. Fury trilled my nerves. My limbs trembled, but not with fear. Before a wisper-plank door like all the others, he stopped. I smoothed back my hair, handing him Khys s cloak. Then I noted the difference in this door from its brothers. It had a number upon it: thirty-four. As Carth took from his robe a key and unlocked it, a mist came around me. I saw threxmen, mounted, and they were uncountable. Yes, I thought, Chayin at least would surely be avenged. Then I stepped into darker dim of the cell; I heard a rustle, and something furry scaled my bare foot. Then it was gone. So there were yits beneath the dharen s tower. I found it somehow fitting that such would be the case. There was precious little light coming in through the hand-width slit near the cell s ceiling. My feet trod the lake rushes scattered upon the stone floor. He was slumped against the wall atop a pile of them. He had not enough chain slack to lie down. The manacles upon him would have restrained a hulion. He was not conscious. I knelt beside him, peering. In his hair was a mat of blood. Elsewhere upon him, also, was the work of Carth and his chosen. As I strenghtened him, I wondered at the fitness of my actions. It might, I thought, have been kinder to leave him free from his body, until the moment Khys called his mind back to attend his death. But I could not. And he was in great need. My hands did for him what they could. I spent much strength in that healing, before his spirit consented to return to his flesh. I saw its presage in his pulse and his breathing. His eyes roved beneath his lids. I did not sit back, but knelt over him, my face close to his. His dark eyes saw me, a time, without recognition. Then he closed them. Sereth ... I choked upon it, dug my fingers into my palms. Please, look at me. Forgive me for what has come to be. And for what I did. And he opened his eyes. His hand, forgetful of his bonds, sought me. The chain [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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