In the Caves of Exile Page 12

  “Ysian, you can't do this to yourself, please! Nisana, tell her, will you? Show her what it's like!” Ylia implored.

  'I have. She knows. She's right, we can use her. What she can do, who she is.’

  “Cat, you're no more sensible than she is! Seriously. Think, will you?”

  'I have! I love Ysian, I'd want her to stay for that alone, but she's right. We can use her. We need her. She's strong and stubborn as you. She'll manage. You manage, after all.’

  “I'm a swordswoman. I've been trained—!”

  'You were as unprepared as any of us when we took the Hunter's Crossing into the Mountains,’ the cat retorted.

  Ylia scowled; Nisana scowled back at her. Ysian smiled gently across the cat's head. Ylia closed her eyes, shook her head. “I swear—! I give up, I know when I'm outnumbered. Nisana, you're not fooling me in the least, I know why you're siding with Ysian! But—all right. Ysian, you're welcome to stay with us. If it becomes more than you can bear, though, swear you'll tell me!”

  “I will,” her aunt promised. “But it won't.”

  “We'll see,” Ylia replied grimly.

  How long has it been since our kind gauged their acts by the moon and stars, and the paths and actions of each? And were our long kin once so barbarous as the Tehlatt in their efforts to control events? Though I am not human but animal in nature, even I was chilled at what we learned of them.

  11

  It was late, past middle night and she was elbow-deep in Ifney's lists when Golsat burst into the chamber. “Eclipse,'” Golsat said tersely, adding as an afterthought, “did I startle you? My apologies.”

  “You did; it's all right.” His first word caught up with her and she pushed the lists aside. They fell unnoticed to the floor. “Eclipse?”

  “Of the moon, two nights away. One of the Chosen—I was speaking with him just now and he mentioned it. There's a ceremony among their kind, apparently. He was talking about a song he'd written for it.” Golsat recalled himself. “The Tehlatt have another way to call the moon back.”

  “Mothers, no. Gods and Mothers, if you'd not found that out, Golsat, and we'd—”

  “Well, I did,” he cut in sharply, “do not dwell on it. I've put more shape to my plan. Enough, I hope, because we'll have to set it into motion tonight.”

  “At once. Now,” Ylia said grimly, and sent a mental, ‘Nisana! I need you, fast!’

  “I'll go for Brelian.”

  “No. Variel's on guard, send him. Talk to me, tell me your plan.” Give me something to do besides worry!

  “All right, It's still rough, though,” Golsat strode to the curtain, spoke to the door-warder and sent him on his way. He stepped back, then, in sudden surprise, and bowed as Ysian and Nisana came in. Lel'San's spindle, Ylia thought savagely, I forgot Ysian! Golsat gazed after her, wide-eyed.

  “You keep late hours. I've been asleep for ages.”

  “Fairly late;” Ylia said and cast Nisana a brief, dark look. Ysian caught it and laughed.

  “Don't blame her, I heard you too. You hauled me awake.” She glanced from cat to niece, up at Golsat. “What's wrong?”

  “Nothing, Ysian. Go back to bed. Sorry I woke you.”

  “Nothing? Of course, you always wake Nisana like that in the middle of the night, just to test her reflexes,” Ysian replied dryly. “It's me, girl, I can tell. And your man here—you might introduce me—your man's got a grim face like I never saw.”

  “All right, it's nothing, to worry you,” Ylia amended soothingly, and as her aunt opened her mouth to protest, added, “Golsat, may I present the Lady Ysian, my mother's sister. Ysian, this is Golsat, one of my companions from Koderra.”

  “Honored Lady,” Golsat said correctly, and bowed gravely over her hand. Ysian raised her eyebrows, visibly surprised by his manners. She brought her face under control before he could catch her in such a breach of her own manners. “You've much of the Lady Scythia to you.”

  “You've a good eye,” Ysian replied with a smile. “And I've heard a good deal of you.” she added. “Malaeth and Lisabetha were more forthcoming than you were, girl.”

  “I didn't want to distress you, Ysian,” Ylia replied equably. Inwardly she was stewing: how to get her aunt back to the women's quarters, quickly. And where was Brelian? Ysian snorted in the most unladylike fashion.

  “Don't worry about distressing me. That's very irritating, you know! I'm not blown glass, after all! I'm here to help you. You've obviously got some kind of problem, and you're trying to keep me out of it, aren't you?”

  “I—all right, yes, I am,” Ylia said flatly as Brelian came in.

  “Why? I can help!”

  'She might indeed be able to help,’ Nisana added.

  “Nisana,” Ylia began warningly.

  “Another AEldra,” Ysian said. “Keep that in mind. Also keep in mind that if I want to know what you're hiding, I can find out. You're Lisabetha's Brelian, aren't you?” She turned away and held out a hand, which Brelian self-consciously bowed over. “Another AEldra,” Ysian went on, glancing from him to Golsat. “I know you men have seen AEldra Power used. If I can help you, tell me how.”

  “Ysian, you're suborning my men,” Ylia cut in tiredly.

  “Well, then?”

  You'll regret you ever asked. Nisana, go ahead, you tell her.” Ysian laid a hand against the cat's side and closed her eyes. “Brel, I'm sorry if we woke you.”

  “You didn't. I just got in from helping the herd-guard, and your lad found me throwing wager-sticks with Marhan.” Ylia groaned. “What?”

  “Marhan. Mothers, is he still there?”

  “Well—there were about six of us, he probably is,” Brelian replied warily. “Why?”

  “Why?” Golsat grinned briefly. “Ylia's about to do something he won't like, and so she plans behind his back. Honored Lady?” he added in some concern, for Ysian had gone white to the lips. Nisana rubbed against her arm. Ysian blinked. Her eyes were all pupil. “Honored Lady, are you all right?”

  “Oh, I'm fine,” Ysian managed, “don't mind me. Set your plans.”

  “I warned you!” Ylia said flatly. “Golsat, if you'd escort the Lady to the door and get Variel to take her back to the women's quarters, I'd be grateful.”

  “No,” Ysian said. She was pale and trembling, her eyes still wide, horrified black pools, but her mouth was set. “Find a use for me. This thing can't be allowed to be! Barbaric,” she whispered under her breath. She drew in air, let it out slowly, and Ylia caught the backwash from Scythia's calming charm. “I'm all right, I swear it. Go on!”

  “Brelian, we need you and two men you can trust.”

  “Trust—well.” Berlian thought. “That's every man here. How, trust?”

  “With your life,” Golsat replied grimly, “with total secrecy, until the thing is done. And with innocent lives. We need someone who can accept AEldra Power. What say you,” he added as Brelian pondered this, “to a raid on the Tehlatt?”

  Brelian gazed at him, stunned. He bared his teeth in a mirthless grin. “Lead me to them. When? And—why?” Golsat told him why. “By the Black Well,” he whispered finally. “Gotsat—my poor Lisahetha! If—she can't know of this!”

  “She doesn't, and she won't, until we return with them. On that we all agree,” Golsat said. “Two men. Do you know two who'll serve?”

  “Readily. Do you want them now?” The dark man nodded. “Wait, then. Pereden was on guard with me. He won't be asleep yet. Faric may be sleeping, but his blankets aren't far from mine.”

  “Good, go.” Golsat turned back to the table. “Have you managed that map for us, Lady Ylia?”

  “Ylia, Golsat,” she reminded him absently. “This is private, remember?” She fished through the pile of lists at her elbow, finally found the tattered paper on the floor, wrong side up, one of Bnolon's now useless breeding-sheets for his sheep on its back “Here. I'm not good at maps or drawing, but it shows everything.”

  “Good. We need nothing else.” He drew it
to him, took the seat across from Ysian and hunched over it. Silence. They could hear Variel's spear scraping the rock floor, down the hail. Ylia's nose twitched: whatever had been used to scent the new candles was cloying, and she was acutely aware that she needed hot water and a clean shirt. Golsat spoke only once while they waited for Brelian and his friends. “How accurate are your distances?”

  “They're rough, but not off by much.”

  “Accurate to within half a league?” She nodded. “Good.” He lapsed into silence again. Ylia glanced at Ysian: her aunt had herself under control but she was ghastly pale. Ysian wet her lips, attempted a smile.

  “How many of them to a camp? Because if you're taking only four men, that's bad odds, isn't it?”

  “We don't intend to fight them, Ysian. With luck, we won't even see any of them. Besides, if we tried to take our own back by force, the Tehlatt would fire that compound before we could free anyone.” Ysian swallowed hard, closed her eyes. Nisana rubbed against her; Ysian caught her close.

  Brelian had both men with him. They were both northern, both Erken's men, perhaps, though she wasn't certain. Too like so many others: young, tall and slender, their faces scruffy with boys’ first beards. “Lady, these are Pereden,” Brelian introduced them, “and Faric. I've known them since I was a boy, they'll aid us.”

  “Any aid you desire, Your Majesty,” Pereden said formally as he went to one knee, “you need only ask.” Faric knelt beside him.

  “Rise, both,” Ylia replied gravely, but she could feel the heat in her face. “And ‘Lady’ is sufficient, for present. We've a dangerous task ahead of us tonight, and I do need you. The Tehlatt have several of our people they've kept alive for burnt sacrifice two nights hence. They're outside Teslmor, in a compound. We go to rescue them.”

  Pereden glanced at his friend, at Brelian for confirmation, dubiously, but without animosity, at Golsat, who still sat hunched over his map, curiously at Nisana, who gazed openly back at him, and briefly at Ysian. He laughed then in a sudden surge of joy, and clapped his hands together. “Mothers, I prayed for this! Tell us what we do, we'll do it!”

  “Good. This is Golsat's venture, his plan. We'll follow him looked up as she spoke his name, held tonight, all of us.” Golsat held out a hand. There was no hesitation on the part of either man to clasp it. “His mother was Tehlatt. He knows their customs.”

  “Well,” Golsat replied doubtfully, “a little. I hope enough. It's been long years since my mother spoke of her people.” He tapped the map. “If the Honored Lady Ysian meant what she said,” he added formally, inclining his head as he gazed across the table. Ysian nodded firmly. Golsat transferred the took to Ylia, who set aside heavy misgivings, shrugged. “Good. Honored Lady, if I may—”

  “It's Ysian, to my friends,” she said with a faint smile. That cost her, Ylia knew, but she warmed to her aunt for the effort.

  “Ysian,” Golsat said gravely. His face seemed darker than usual. “If I may? You're Ylsan. AEldra.” Ysian nodded both times. “And so you've talents like Ylia's, or Nisana's?” She nodded again. “And—like them,” Golsat went on, a glance including Brelian's friends, “there are certain things you can and cannot do with this Power?”

  “Just so.”

  “Good. I know,” Golsat went on, another glance at Pereden and Faric, “that Nisana can bridge—that is,” he qualified for the two newcomers, “she can move from one place to another in less time than it takes to breathe. But Ylia cannot.”

  'Won't.’

  'Silence, cat!’

  'Hah.’

  “Can you bridge?” Golsat finished.

  Ysian nodded. “I don't much; it isn't called for. But—I can.”

  “Good. And—your pardon, but how strong is what you have?”

  “Mmmm. Good question.” Ysian considered. “Strong. I'm Second House. But I don't really know. As compared to Ylia or Nisana? Ylia?”

  “As strong as my mother's was, Golsat,” Ylia said finally. Ysian was strong, that wasn't hard to tell. As to how much sustained strength she had—well, that might be another thing entirely, and they'd only find that out the hard way. “If you're still thinking of the same notion, I'd say she's strong enough. The three of us are.”

  “So. Good. You bridge us all to a place near the camp. Then you and I go in, afoot. If anyone is about at that hour, they'll think me a warrior from another camp, you another prisoner. We'll deal with the compound guard, and I'll take his place while you go inside and—black hell, I forgot,” he slammed a fist into the table. “You can't bridge.”

  “No. And we can't take Ysian into that camp,” Ylia said. “She couldn't handle that.”

  “I wouldn't suggest it,” Golsat said.

  “It's not necessary, anyway,” Ysian said. “If Ylia's—if she goes in, she and I can join, we can bridge them out. You did it before, Ylia, when you and the Bowmaster used Nisana's strength to bridge away from your companions, to help the old Chosen. Both your strengths, her use of the bridging.” She dredged up a faint smile. “Nisana and I can remain well outside the camp, you can be inside the compound and bridge your people to safety.” She looked across the table. “Will that work into your plan?” Golsat nodded. “I've both the bridging, and the strength for it, particularly if Nisana backs and if we're fairly close. A league or less.”

  “We'll get you that close,” Golsat assured her. “But there'll be no danger to you.” Ysian waved that away. “Give me another minute.” He retreated into his map again, ran a square finger back and forth across it.

  “Thank you, Ysian,” Ylia said in the ensuing silence.

  Ysian shook her head. “Thank me when I've earned it. I hope I will. I intend to,” she finished grimly.

  “I'd rather prefer it, though, if you'd stay in the foothills, instead of coming down onto the Plain.”

  “No. A thing like this is tricky, and even though I've never done it before, I know the theory of it. There's a knack to bridging this way. Touch, of course: you have to physically touch those you move. But the rest is proximity. The nearer I am to you, the more people we can move at a time, the faster we get you out of there.” She paused. “I don't want to bridge the last of your people out and find there isn't enough left in me to bring you and your man back.”

  “I just don't like it. I'll worry about you.”

  “You'd better not,” Ysian said tartly. “I can bridge myself away, if I have to, and don't doubt I will!”

  'Your words to Marhan, not long ago, as I recall,’ Nisana put in.

  “Cat, you're not helping. But it's no good, is it?” she demanded of both of them. “You're in league against me. I'd never win!”

  “No,” Ysian said quietly. “But we're not against you. We're trying to help you. Fair enough?”

  “I—oh, all right,” she capitulated with a little sigh. “Fair enough.” It wasn't, really. And if her mother's sister came so far to die—Golsat's voice brought her back to the moment.

  “All right.” He stood, pushed the map to the center of the table, lit another candle. “We strike just before first light, when the camp will be quietest. Now that's not too many hours off,” he added. “So we must reach the Plain as soon as possible. This hill just to the north of that camp. Brelian, you should remember it, it's got a spring near the top and water runs down deep clefts. There are a dozen places to hide, gullies and thickets of aspen near the bottom.”

  Brelian nodded. “One of the safest places to hide thereabouts, though I daresay the Tehlatt took it for the good water.”

  “I know it, too,” Faric said. “But if you think to reach it still tonight, you'll need wings!”

  “And we'll have them. In a way,” Golsat said. “As you'll see. Now. We bridge from the hills to Teshmor's shadow. From there to one of the gullies on that hill.”

  “Bridge. You keep talking about bridging. What is it?” Faric asked.

  “Magic,” Golsat replied. “Lady Ylia can explain it to you. But don't think of it as magic, consider it
another weapon—”

  “I don't care, “Pereden cut in. “We both don't,” he added, and Faric nodded warily. “Just give us a cut at the Tehlatt, that's all!”

  “Good. Though I hope, for the sake of all of us, that no one gets a cut at them. This is a raid, a very secret one. Got that?” Nods all around. “All right. We reach that hill. The moon's near full, but clouds are coming from the south, so it should be obscured. It won't matter much. We'll just need extra caution if it's bright. Brel, you, Faric and Pereden will come as far as the edge of the horse-pickets—here.” He pointed. “And wait, in case anything goes wrong. Ylia and I will go alone from there. The guard will be drowsy and bored, and we may not be seen at all if we're careful. If we are—well, my mother gave me her looks for good cause after all. They'll believe I'm from another camp, and that Ylia's a prisoner for the fires. I can distract the compound guard while our folk are being bridged out of there.” He looked at each of them in mm. “Or, if it's necessary, kill him.” Silence. “If there's a flaw any of you can see, anything I haven't considered, tell me now, so we can correct it.”

  “Clothing,” Brelian said immediately. “Your face is fine, but the rest of you is very much Nedao.”

  Golsat shrugged. “Most of the warriors in that camp will be wearing at least Nedaoan armor. It's taking the bravery of your enemy to yourself, to wear the things of the man you killed.”

  'Nisana,’ Ylia sent to her urgently, ‘you can screen us, you once said you could, outside Koderra!’

  'That was different, the Tehlatt were half a league away. So close to so many of them, it would never work. And even the simplest of shamen could sense us.’ Ylia shrugged. ‘Sorry, girl.’

  'A thought, that's all. We'll do without. Golsat's plan is good.’ She met the cat's eyes, her thought carefully shuttered. Ysian was intent upon the map and missed the look. Nisana closed her eyes briefly, non-thought received. Ysian would be well guarded and pulled from the spot instantly if there was any trouble.

  “Why do you have to go through the camp?” Faric wanted to know. “I mean, if this bridging can take you anywhere, why not just in with the prisoners and back out again?”