Thats very true, Dallandra said. How many men are there?
But four, and one of them wounded. Two others did die in the rescuing of that caravan.
I cant see, then, why Dar wouldnt agree. By all means, take Drav to him. I think Cals over there, too. Could you ask Drav if Laz is going to come tell us about that crystal?
The two Gel daThae conferred briefly. Drav rolled his dark eyes and swung one hand through the air, a gesture that Grallezar had often used when dismissing someone as a fool.
He tells me, Grallezar said in her dialect of Deverrian, that Laz be in a fair foul mood over Sidro. He does walk around swearing and kicking at things that be in his way. So he knows not what Laz might or might not do.
I see. Thank him for the information, will you? Then we can go talk with Dar.
By then the royal alar had grown used to travelling with individuals of the race theyd always called Meradan, demons, now that they knew that these demons were real flesh and blood, not some faceless horde but individuals who were capable of changing their minds and their allegiances. The prince was glad enough to have more highly trained warriors in his warband, even if these were Gel daThae.
Besides, Dar told Dallandra in Elvish, they understand the Horsekin, and they despise them even more than we do. He rubbed his hands together. Drav has some solid information about their forces.
Drav returned to his former camp to collect his men, but not long after he sent a messenger. Grallezar brought him and his news to Dallandra: Laz and those of his men who were unwounded were striking camp and planning on riding out.
What? Dalla snapped. Hes leaving his wounded behind?
The messenger spoke; Grallezar translated, telling her that the wounded men had asked to change their loyalties and stay with the alar. They would ride under Dravs orders, or so theyd sworn on the names of the old Gel daThae gods.
Good riddance to the rest of them, Grallezar said, or truly, it would be good riddance if we needed not to know what Laz knows.
But we do need to, Dalla said. Ill go talk with him.
Might that not be dangerous?
It might, but I doubt it, not with his band so badly outnumbered, and Drav and his men right there. Dallandra considered briefly. On the other hand, you might collect a few archers and come oh say, about half-way to his camp.
Grallezar grinned with a flash of needle-sharp teeth.
In the midst of a welter of half-struck tents and bedrolls, Lazs remaining men hurried back and forth, saddling horses and gathering gear. Dallandra found Laz standing by his saddled and bridled horse, a stocky chestnut that bore a Gel daThae cavalry brand. The bright sun picked out the pink scars on his face and those cutting into his short brown hair. Hes got a face like a knife edge, Dallandra thought, all sharp angles and bone and that beaky nose. He looks half-starved, too. His smile did nothing to soften the impression.
Welcome, Laz called out. He spoke surprisingly good Deverrian. Or perhaps I should say farewell. Alas, fair lady, I feel the need to take leave of you and yours, before the rest of my men decide theyd rather join you than stay with me.
Well, I can understand that, Dallandra said. Its too bad, though. I was going to offer to trade you dweomer lore in return for some information.
Oh? Laz glanced away, entirely too casually. What kind of lore?
What are you most interested in?
At the moment, the burning questions in my mind concern those wretched crystals. He looked at her again. Who, by the way, was Evandar?
I can tell you a great deal about Evandar. The black crystal, its largely a mystery to me, though I do know somewhat that might interest you. She paused to glance around them, saw some of his men standing nearby, and dropped her voice to a whisper. You owned it in a former life. In fact, I know somewhat about two of your former lives. She raised her voice to a normal level. It wont make pleasant hearing, though, so no doubt youre wise to leave now.
Lazs eyes went wide, and he whistled under his breath. He gaped at her, as well and truly hooked as a caught trout, gaping at the end of a fishermans line. His horse stamped and tossed its head at the sudden slacking of its reins. At last Laz sighed and turned away to speak to his men in the Gel daThae language. Some of them shrugged, some of them raised eyebrows, others glanced skyward in disgust, but they all stopped work on striking the camp and began, instead, to restore it.
We need to find a place to talk, Laz said to Dallandra. We can meet between the camps.
Very well. Youre welcome in our camp, for that matter. The Westfolk will never eavesdrop on a Wise One.
I will not set foot over there. Lazs voice turned hard. I see no reason to let Pir gloat over me.
Oh come now, you know Pir better than I do! Would he truly gloat?
I never thought hed steal my woman, either. Laz hesitated, then shrugged. Thats unfair of me. No one stole her. Shes not a horse. Laz seemed to be choking back either tears or anger, but he arranged a brittle smile.
Hes trying, Dallandra thought. Desperately trying to be fair, to do the right thing. She regretted her slip, mentioning that she had information about two of his past lives. Discussing Lord Tren was doubtless safe enough, but Alastyr? She found herself loath to speak of dark dweomer. What if it awakened Lazs memories and, worse yet, his desire to use it? Worst of all, what if he already remembered and was hoping to get more information? Sidro had often warned her that Laz lied as cheerfully as most men jest.
Well, it was her right to choose. His voice sounded as tight as a drawn bowstring. Alas. Let me hand my horse over to Faharn, and then we shall go to neutral ground and talk. Laz shaded his eyes and looked in the direction of Grallezar and the archers. Ah, I see you prudently stationed a few guards out there.
Ill dismiss them.
He grinned again, bowed, and led his horse away.
Laz handed his horse over to Faharn, then gave his apprentice a few quick instructions about setting up the camp. By the time he returned to Dallandra, the archers had gone back to the Westfolk tents. Dalla had picked out a spot midway between their two camps and trampled down the grass in a small circle. When they sat down, he felt oddly private despite the blue sky above them, as if they sat in a tiny chamber curtained all round with fine green lace.
Would you tell me what you know about the dragon book? Dallandra began.
The dragon book? Laz said. Ah, there was a dragon on the cover, indeed. I held it in my hands and turned the pages, but I cant truly read your beautiful language, so I have no idea of what was written in it.
Berwynna told me that you thought the text had somewhat to do with dragons.
Somewhat. For one thing, there was the image on the cover.
I wanted to ask you about that. You have a book thats decorated with the reverse colours but the same outline of a dragon. Did you buy that in a marketplace?
I didnt. My sisters had it made specially for me as a coming of age present. I saved it for years until I had somewhat important to write in it. You look surprised.
I didnt. My sisters had it made specially for me as a coming of age present. I saved it for years until I had somewhat important to write in it. You look surprised.
I am. I suppose Evandar might have scried it somehow. He did see bits and pieces of future events, and if he saw you and the book, he might well have decided to make one much like it.
I truly want to learn more about this fellow.
Ill tell you, fear not! But about the book
Well, beyond the cover, I could pick out a word here and there, and drahkonnen was one of them. Laz paused to summon his memories. He could see the pages of the book clearly in his mind. Odd, now that I think of it! That word seemed to recur in the same place on every page. Indeed, about half-way down and to the right of the line, and on every page that I saw.
How very strange!
Laz nodded his agreement. Did Wynni tell you about the spirits?
She mentioned that youd said some were attached to the book, but no more than that. She apparently cant see the Wildfolk.
She cant, truly, but I did. They were spirits of Aethyr. They appeared once as flames, icy white with strangely coloured tips. Another time I saw them as a lozenge, floating just over the book. They can move it, by the by, and they must have some way of influencing peoples minds. Somehow they tricked Wynni into taking it from the island.
Thats fascinating! I can see Evandars hand in this, all right.
Have you ever heard of anything like this?
Once. Dallandra hesitated, then spoke carefully. It reminds me of a tale I heard a long time ago. Have you ever heard of the Great Stone of the West?
Ive not.
Yet Laz felt an odd touch on his mind, not a memory, more a feeling of danger attached to the name. Dallandra was watching him, not precisely studying his face, but certainly more than usually alert.
What is this fabled stone, if I may ask? Laz said.
An opal that one of the Lijik Ganda enchanted oh, a long time ago. Ebañy told me about it. It had spirits guarding it, too, you see, which is why it came to mind.
Ah, I do see. Ebañys Evan the gerthddyn?
He is. My apologies, I forgot you wouldnt know his Elvish name. Hes Wynnis uncle, by the way.
And a mazrak, I gather.
He is that. Hes not the dweomerman who enchanted the opal, though. Nevyn, his name was, and I know it means no one, but it truly was his name.
The danger pricked him again. Laz felt as if hed run his hand through the silken grass only to thrust a finger against a thorn. Dallandra was smiling, but only faintly, pleasantly. He wondered why he was so sure she was weaving a trap around him.
Can you scry for the book? Her abrupt change of subject made him even more suspicious. Youve actually seen it, and I never have.
Ive been doing so to no avail, alas. Laz decided that talking about the book was safe enough. When Wynni took it, she put it into a leather sack, then wrapped the sack in some of her clothing. The bundles still in her lost saddlebags, or at least, Im assuming that. All I get is an impression of a crowded darkness.
Well, thats unfortunate!
If I ever see anything more clearly, Ill tell you, though. Does the book belong to you?
In a way, I suppose it does. I think Im hoping that it contains the spells I need to turn Rori back into human form. The being who wrote the book is the same one who dragonified him, you see.
So Enj told us. Um, the being? This Evandar wasnt an ordinary man of your people, I take it.
He wasnt, but one of the Guardians, their leader, as much as they had one, anyway.
Ye gods, then hes the one the Alshandra people call Vandar!
Just that. Hed never been incarnate, so he could command the astral forces or play with them, would be a better way of putting it. He never took anything very seriously.
Laz looked away slack-mouthed for a moment, then regained control of his voice. Well, he said, I dont know why Im so surprised. It would take someone that powerful to work the dweomers were discussing.
Indeed. And I have no idea how to unwork it, as it were.
You said you knew him well?
I did. He was my lover, in fact, for some while.
Laz felt himself staring at her like a half-wit. A hundred questions crowded into his mind, most indelicate at best and outright indecent at worst. A beautiful woman like this, and a man who wasnt really a man, but some alien creature in man-like form the idea touched him with sexual warmth. He could smell the change in his scent, but fortunately she seemed oblivious to it.
Working the transformation killed him well, I dont know if killed is the right word, Dallandra went on. It drained him of the powers that were keeping him from incarnating. That would be a better way of putting it.
Im not sure I understand.
Im not sure I do, either. Dallandra smiled at him. He had no physical body, only an etheric form that hed ensouled. To be born, he had to remove that form, but hed woven it so well, and he had so much power at his disposal, that it refused to unwind, as it were. Turning Rhodry into a dragon left him absolutely helpless, all that power spent, his own form destroyed. He could go on at last to cross the white river.
I see. Laz turned his mind firmly back to questions of dweomer. Speaking of incarnations, you mentioned having somewhat to tell me about mine.
I certainly do, thanks to Rori. It turns out that dragons have a certain amount of instinctive dweomer. He remembers you quite clearly from the days when he was human, and in dragon form, he can recognize you.
Id suspected as much, but Im glad to have the suspicion confirmed. What does he remember thats so distressing? Distressing to me, I mean.
Do you remember aught about your last life?
Only a bit, that last battle in front of Cengarn, where Alshandra well, died, or whatever it is Guardians do when they cease to exist. Its all cloudy, but I think I was a Horsekin officer.
You were there, certainly, but you were a Deverry lord with an isolated demesne just north of Cengarn. Youd gone over to the Horsekin side. They probably treated you like one of their officers.
Laz winced. Oh splendid! A traitor to my kind, was I? No wonder Ive ended up a half-breed in this life! Youre quite right. That does distress me.
Well, Rhodry thought it was your devotion to Alshandra that drove you to it.
Worse and worse! He forced out a difficult smile. Mayhap its just as well that Sidro left me. Shed gloat if she knew that.
Dallandra nodded, and her expression turned sympathetic.
I have a vague memory of dying in battle, Laz went on, so I suppose I got what I deserved.
Your last fight was with Rhodry Aberwyn, a silver dagger. Um, heres the odd part. Rhodrys the man whom Evandar turned into the dragon.
He killed me? Laz tossed his head back and laughed aloud. No wonder he remembered me, eh? And wanted to do it again.
It was Dallandras turn for the puzzled stare. The Ancients, Laz decided, werent as morbid as Deverry men and Gel daThae if she couldnt see the humour in the situation.