SOLAHN
“Allman is leaving for the Mountains in the morning,” Erek said.
“To find his wife?”
“Yes,” Erek said to Austin. “And his children. You know he was kin to some of the Rebels. That is where they are.”
“What about Mereesa?”
“I sent her there as well. I suppose Allman can look after her. Tell her of my safety.”
“Or you could bring her back here,” Austin said.
They were in a garden that reminded Erek of the one back in Nava, in the palace.
“Look,” Austin said, “I have lived in Westrial, but I know little of Chyr and wizards and gods. The truth is I did not really believe in their gods or their legends. I thought they were made up, like ours.”
“Austin!”
“Oh, please,” Austin shook his head. “All of that nonsense which we now know to be nonsense! But I’ve been on the Rootless Isle, and with Ohean, and in that world, and I don’t understand, but something is happening. There is magic. And there are sorcerers. And gods. And… other things. I do not know what is happening, but I do know this: Zahem will probably never be a country again. It’s going to be ruled from Solahn from now on. Dahlan would be a fool to go back there and try to be Prophet, and he doesn’t want to. No, Zahem is done. And there are plenty of followers of the Faith here in Solahn.”
“They are heretics.”
“You don’t really believe that,” Austin said, “and I don’t have the strength to humor you by pretending I believe you believe it. Our own are going to come here. Get Mereesa and get your boys. Bring them here.”
“Austin… what about your wife? Your home? You could easily go back to Westrial.”
“I fled with the Prince. There may be a price on my head. I may have endangered my wife and my father, and while you turned your back on what we had, I did not. I tried to, but in the end I had to be myself. And since being myself meant having sex with other men behind my wife’s back and breaking her heart, I’m not saying I’m proud of it, but I am saying I will stay here. In Solahn. The only reason I came was to be with you, Erek.”
Erek took a deep breath. He looked very glum and Austin repeated:
“I would have much rather been fighting alongside Anson and Ohean. But you could not take that world, so I came here with you. I did so much for you. So much.”
“I know,” Erek said, at last.
He stood up.
“I will do this for you, then. I will remain here with you. For the time being.”
Lead us from darkness to light
Lead us from falseness to truth
Lead us from death into life…
Lead us from sorrow to joy
From despair into bliss
How long had it been since she had said the morning prayer in the quiet privacy the upstairs room at Turnthistle Farm, since she’d lit a stick of incense and a candle and placed them before the old battered icon.
That where there is sorrow
I might bring joy
That where there’s despair
I may bring hope
That where there is pain
pardon
Here the thin line of sweet, white incense burned over the triptych. On the first, veiled in white, Maia. Across from her Elladyl, and in the center of the triptych, eyes sweeping the room, red hair aflame, Kavana. Beneath her the little brass tigers. Mehta rang the bell and spake again.
Be thou above and beneath
To my right and to my left
All around thee
And in me
Hear me when I call.
“Mehta!”
She jumped up and Rendan, looking apologetic, said, “My apologies. I didn’t know.”
Mehta shook her head. “It’s alright.”
“I was… I wanted to say I was leaving.’
“Leaving, for…” Metha remembered herself, turned around, struck the bell which meant the end of prayer and, after clasping her hands and bowing low before the icons, rose again.
“There’s something going on in the village not far from here. They say pirates. I’m going to see about it.”
Mehta reached for her shawl, saying, “Then let’s be off.”
“Mehta!”
“No,” she said, tying her orange hair in a bun. “Nor would you have ever come to me if some secret part of you did not wish for my company. I’ll get a sword. I’m sure your mother will lend me one. Let us go.”
Rendan stood there looking at her.
“What?”
“What are you?” he said.
“Stop being stupid,” Mehta told him. “You know what I am. A kitchen girl.”
Ethan came into the waiting hall where Queen Iokaste stood in the center with Yarrow, one robed in white gold, the elder in deep blue.
“Your son has already gone,” he said.
“He was supposed to take his uncle.”
“Or at least me,” Ethan said.
“I think it’s pirates,” the Queen told him. “This last year the Hahloranes and the Spiralers have gotten steadily bolder. There are two enemies now, a pirate king from the Spiral Islands called Rizhihard and one simply called the Pirate Queen. No,” Iokaste added, “they are not with each other. Not as far as I know.”
“And you think these attackers could be pirates?”
“I hope,” the Queen said, “they are not. Rendan is young and impetuous and he is full of fire, but not experience. My Lord Ethan, did anyone attend him?”
At this a suprisingly sheepish look came over the prince’s face.
“A few. I think. A knight or two and…”
Suddenly Yarrow said, “Ethan, where is Mehta?”
When Ethan said nothing, it was Hektar who said, “But that girl…. Just ran off with him?”
“She’s got a mind of her own,” Ethan shrugged, haplessly.
“That she does,” Yarrow remarked.
“She’s…” Hektar spluttered, “she’s just a kitchen wench.”
But the Queen gave a half smile and tilted her head. “Perhaps she is far more than a kitchen wench. Or perhaps kitchen wenches are far more than we give them credit for.”
