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 I didn t. You warned him off, and he was local anyway.
The smith took a long, slow breath. He didn t want to get into a discussion
of Relyn. It wouldn t do any good, not when Ryba would start pointing out that
Relyn s religious view of the world s order fields would eventually hurt
Westwind. What did she mean by eventually, anyway? Five hundred years later?
 What do you want? he finally asked.
 I told you. Find a local to bed. Or another guard.
 I ll think about it.
 Don t think too long, Ryba said.  I ve given you the chance to think all
winter.
 I won t take that long, he promised.
With a curt nod, Ryba turned toward the door, then stopped.  Will you be
here?
 I have some notes to do-on the mill.
 Will you listen for Dyliess, then, until I get back?
 Of course.
Another nod, and the Marshal was gone.
Nylan walked to the window and looked out, up toward the ridge and the
watchtower. He couldn t see the ice-needle Freyja from his single window.
After he studied the mountains for a time, and his muscles began to relax,
he went back to the work table, where he used the striker to light the single
candle. Although his night vision was nearly as good as his day vision for
most matters, the candle did help in writing and reading. As the flame
lengthened, and cast light from the polished bronze reflector onto the table,
he sat down on the stool and looked at the papers weighted down under the
ornate hilt of a blade that had broken at the tang. He had found it in the
plunder from the great battle, long since separated from the actual blade. The
hilt was heavy, overdone, and had doubtless added a poor balance that had
contributed to the blade s breaking, along with a tang that had been too
narrow, but the hilt itself made a decorative paperweight.
In the dim candlelight, Nylan squinted at the crude paper on the table,
then dipped the quill into the ink and began to draw-slowly and carefully.
Each section of the mill had to be laid out so that there would be no
mistakes. The purple outside the open window turned velvet black, and the
chirp and whistle of unnamed insects rose and fell.
At the tap on the door, he looked up. Ayrlyn s face peered in.
He motioned, and the healer entered, easing the door shut behind her.
 Ryba and Saryn are still down in the great room, talking over something
obscure, like whether caltrops are really that effective except in defending
fixed emplacements and whether two-handed blades are useful in mounted
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attacks. Saryn was advocating lances and beefed-up stirrups& 
Nylan smiled wryly.
The healer shook her head and pointed at the stack of papers before Nylan.
 What are you working on there?
 The plans for the sawmill.
 You didn t do that for the tower, or the bathhouse, or the smithy, she
pointed out, then leaned over him and kissed the back of his neck.
 I didn t have to. I was here.
 You are serious, aren t you?
 Ryba practically ordered me to bed Ydrall. She wants to see the gene mix
with locals.
 I take it you were reluctant.
 That wasn t the real point. She was giving me another shove. I told her
I d think about it. I have no intention of thinking about it. He rubbed his
forehead.
 You got ink on your forehead, Ayrlyn said.
He tried to blot it away with the back of his hand.  Then, when I said I
wasn t the Gerlich type, she said I was, except that fewer women appealed to
me, and if Ydrall didn t appeal to find a local who did so that she could
confirm that the genes mixed.
 Did she put it that way?
 Pretty much.
Ayrlyn pursed her lips.  That makes you angry.
 That, and basically being told my prime value is as a stud.
 She s angry at you for choosing me.
 I m glad I did, Nylan said.  I wish I d seen who you were earlier.
 I wasn t who I am now back then, if that makes sense. I was a mousy comm
officer.
 Neither was I. I was a withdrawn engineer. I still am.
Ayrlyn s eyes dropped to the papers.  Are you going to tell Ryba about all
these plans?
 Not until we re on our way out of here.
 She may not let us have mounts.
 That s why we need to make it quick, Nylan said.  Right now, there s
sympathy for me, for you. If we let her drag it out, it will get so unpleasant
that people will just want us gone. She s proved she s good at that.
 For someone who wasn t sure about leaving, you ve reached a big decision
quickly.
The engineer-smith-healer shook his head.  To see something I should have
seen two years ago? Hardly. Hardly. He took a deep breath.
Ayrlyn bent over and blew out the candle, then kissed the back of his neck
again.  You were almost finished for tonight, weren t you?
 If you say so&  Nylan eased out of the chair.
XVII
THE WHITE WIZARD and the senior lancer officer rode side by side, the hoofs of
their mounts clacking on the time-polished stones of the Lord s East Road.
They passed a kaystone with sculpted and fluted edges, mounted on a tan
stone platform that bore the inscription  GELIENDRA-3 K. The lancer glanced
at Themphi.  Ser wizard?
 Yes, Jyncka?
 One should not question His Mightiness, or white brethren, but could you
hazard a thought as to why our punishment was so harsh?
 Harsh? Themphi raised his eyebrows.  Harsh, repeated Jyncka.  We are
allowed to buy any peasant girl for a concubine, if we offer double her dowry.
We can slay any peasant who raises a hand against us, yet for taking liberties
with a peasant girl-and we did not hurt her- we have been destroyed: either
executed, allowed to suicide, or condemned to spend the rest of a short life
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battling the accursed forest. How did this happen? Is our world slowly
unraveling, and I cannot see it? Or have I been blind all my years?
Themphi frowned.  I can tell you what happened. The girl s father refused
two golds and said that you were worse than sows. Then he ran toward His
Mightiness. The peasant died. After that, our Lord turned to me and made his
judgment. He said that when peasants defied his presence, matters needed
attending to. And he sent me, his wizard of wizards, with the injunction that
I should not return until the forest was contained. The wizard smiled coldly.
 So you are exiled as well?
 In effect. Themphi shrugged.  Unless we can vanquish the forest.
 Is that likely?
 I do not know. I do know that it took all the might and skill of the
ancients to contain it.
 And you must combat it alone? asked Jyncka.
 With your help and that of those living nearby-that is His Mightiness s
command.
Jyncka raised his eyebrows.  I would not term that any great reward for
service.
 Rulers do not reward for service, Majer, nor for realistic assessments.
They reward for results.
 Times change, murmured Jyncka.  A great ship rises in the works at Cyad,
a ship like the ancient fireships. They say. the lancers ride north to bring
the Grass Hills within the Walls of Cyad. Yet we are accorded less honor than
before, and those who speak what they believe to be truth are dishonored. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]