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here and being dharen, it falls to you. I can kill you, and it will fall to
someone else. I would rather not. Be dharen not as I might see fit or you
might see fit, but as best serves Silistra. Keep a light hand upon her. Aid as
best you can the helsar children; school them, counsel them, but above all
keep cognizant of them. Teach restraint. Let the time go its own way awhile,
that owkahen will settle . .." He broke off, unwound one hand from his chald,
brushed hair from his eyes with it. The wound upon his skull was nearly
healed. He frowned briefly at Carth, "If I thought you really did not know
what was needed," he said softly, as if disappointed, "I would use another.
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How we regard each other matters little at this time. You may think what you
will of me, as long as it does not impair your judgment in my behalf. If you
need me, send word. I will receive it."
He rose up. "And recollect this well: it is to the
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Janet E. Morris south you must send in your need. Then, only, will you suffer
any northerner to set foot there. Should there be any reprisals, we will in
truth tear these buildings down, stone from off of stone, and Silistra will
live beneath the beneficent hand of the chosen son of Tar-Kesa."
Carth had turned away, though movement was costly to his bandage-swathed body,
humped but hardly hidden beneath the couch clothes.
It was to Miccah he twisted. The white-haired high chalder, his seamed face
distraught, hurried to his side. They whispered together. A cloud begrudged us
even the slatted light streaming weakly through the six narrow windows.
Chayin motioned Sereth to him. They also conferred. It was this that had
brought us to the lakeside so soon after Khys's reliving. I had little
attention for the moment that day. My .flesh was racked with chills, and I
could not more than huddle in this corner or that. So did I attend it, Carth's
assumption of the dharen's chald, a set'* time after I had run from Sereth and
my guilt. For better or worse, Carth, who had been once crell in the pits of
Nemar, would rule from the Lake of Horns. On Brinar fourth fifth, 25,697, did
a hase-enor, and a telepath, take up Silistra's care.
The silence was long. Neither Sereth and Chayin, nor Carth and Miccah, seemed
anxious to break it.
"Excuse him, lords." Miccah straightened at last. His chins puffed as he
worked his mouth. Confronting their austere authority, his message would not
come forth.
"Excuse him," he sprayed. Tiny bubbles formed where his lips met. His eyes
darted here and there in their bloodshot milky pools. "I beg you. Carth has no
more strength for words. In his last breath, he bade me tell you he will
humbly and to the best of his ability carry out your will." The words,
springing forth all togetl**^*jamble, were nearly
WIND FROM THE ABYSS
341
unintelligible. Mouth agape, Miccah waited, hands thrust deep into his hide
apron, feet wide and figure swaying. Still half in shock seemed Miccah, and
yet grieving for the dharen.
Chayin, arms folded over his chest, looked at Sereth meaningfully. Then both
turned to Carth, who lay in his body like a yra of binnirin grains in a
two-stone sack. "Is that what he said?" queried Chayin innocently.
"Yes," affirmed the high chalder.
We can only hope that Carth will keep his proxy's promise. What he does is
done in Sereth's name.
"Se'keroth, Se'keroth, direel b'estet Se'keroth," growled the cahndor, as the
girl served me kifra. His eyes measured her as she leaned over to pour. She
had evidently spoken to me. I had not heard. I had been with flame, once
again.
"She is not yet well," said Sereth, half to the innman's girl and half to
Chayin.
"Would you want three chambers, Se . .. arrar?" I heard her through the sea
pulse, breaking upon the jetties and my eardrums.
"Two," Chayin said, "with access between."
Sereth's shifting, as he dug dippars from his pouch, was more immediate. I
resettled myself against him.
"Re Dellin has been here, and left instructions that he be the first to know
should you happen this way." Under his gaze, she preened herself, patting her
hair with a sturdy wrist.
"When?" Sereth was tense-stiff, his quietest.
"Just this rising," she murmured, deferential, "if it should please you,
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arrar."
"And if it should not?" he snapped.
Sereth tossed three coins. The third was titrium half-well. The girl smiled,
eyes lowered demurely, Chayin twisted around in his seat as she bent to take
them. She brushed against him. She hesitated.
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Janet E. Morris her breast against his shoulder, her fingers upon the coins.
"Should I send him word, then?" she asked.
"No," said Sereth.
"Se'keroth, indeed," I whispered as the girl withdrew and gave me back view of
the hearth. Others entered then, to dine and chase the salt chill from their
bones.
My fingers found the arrar's chald at my waist, and a certain knife that was
sheathed upon the parrhide belt. In its hilt was a single gol drop. It had
been given to me by Sereth, upon Mount Opir. Or its mate had. He had
commissioned them, both alike, when I had been accounted dead. The gold drops [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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