"So that's the agreement?" Thero asked.

"Keep your voice down, fish priest!" the man hissed, looking around nervously. "You want to get us lynched? It's all-how do you say it?"

"Under the table," Notis explained with a wink. "No one in this port takes slaves from Viresse, and there's a good bounty for any brought home again. Been going on for years."

"Ulan i Sathil ransoms his people back?" Thero whispered. "But if he knows they are being taken, why does he trade with you at all?"

"He only does business with those who bring him word of his people in Plenimar. And with the Zengati clans he's got treaties with."

"So you carried a load of that cargo recently?" asked Mic.u.m, filling Notis's mug again.

"Good raiding. Full load! And good ones, too."

"Except for those we had to leave behind..." the other Zengat muttered, and was elbowed into silence by one of the others.

"Lots of gold to go around this time," the scar-faced one said, grinning.

"Then you must have had a good time in Benshal, I'd guess!" laughed Mic.u.m.

"Not Benshal! Riga, I told you." Notis gave Mic.u.m a bleary grin. "I think you are drunk, friend. How 'bout you, fish priest?"

Thero did his best to smile, but in reality he wanted to throttle the b.a.s.t.a.r.d until he told them what had happened to their friends. But the pressure of Mic.u.m's knee against his own under the table made him hold his tongue.

"What was so special about this load?" Mic.u.m asked casually.

"Lots 'faie. Special ones, too," Notis whispered.

"But I thought those always went to Benshal?" said Thero, casually as he could manage.

Notis was deep in his cups now. Leaning heavily across Mic.u.m, he whispered loudly, "Special raid, fish man, just for two. Killed a d.a.m.n lot of others we could have sold, but orders are orders. You see? Just the two, and no witnesses. Sent a voron voron to catch 'em, too." to catch 'em, too."

A necromancer. That explained the damage to the swords.

"Who sent the voron?" Thero asked, gripping his wine cup tightly with both hands.

Notis shrugged. "Who cares? Our captain orders. We go. And then?" He patted his purse again.

"What was so special about them?" Mic.u.m demanded drunkenly. "Pretty ones? Big trai? trai?" He raised his hands like he was cupping a pair of b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Notis and the others laughed. "When you ever see big trai on a 'faie? Can't hardly tell the boys from the girls half the time!"

"Not that it much matters," one of the others said, giving Thero a leer that made his skin crawl.

"No, just a couple of poor b.a.s.t.a.r.ds."

"The dark one was a westerbok, westerbok," the unscarred Zengat opined solemnly.

"Oh, how do you know that?" one of the Plenimarans challenged.

"All my family great slavers, way back!" the Zengat bragged, poking the other man in the chest. "I can tell 'em all all apart. Don't even need those head rags to tell. But the other one, he was different, a mongrel with yellow hair." apart. Don't even need those head rags to tell. But the other one, he was different, a mongrel with yellow hair."

"Yellow hair, eh? That sells good?" asked Mic.u.m.

Notis shrugged. "To some, but the rich customers generally want 'em pure. This one didn't look like much, compared to your southern stock, but they kept him apart from the others and I seen the captain's own slaves goin' in to him."

"I told you, they was wizards!" a younger Plenimaran piped up. "Put the branks on 'em, didn't they? And the cuffs."

The Zengats both made some sort of hand sign, as if to ward off evil.

"How much did they fetch?" Mic.u.m asked.

"We unload 'em at the docks and that's the last we see of 'em." Notis grinned wider, showing the gap where his tooth had been knocked out. Thero hoped Alec had done that to him.

To Thero's dismay, the conversation turned to other things as Mic.u.m continued to buy round after round. And although he seemed to be drinking as much as the rest of them, when the last of the slavers fell asleep with their heads on the table, Mic.u.m sat back and said quietly, "Time we were moving on, Thorwin."

"What about them?" Thero whispered, gesturing around at the drunken slavers.

Mic.u.m shook his head. "Don't make a fuss. No sense getting noticed."

With a last glare at Notis and his compatriots, Thero followed Mic.u.m out into the dark street.

It was a cloudy night, with a cold breeze in off the sea. Thero shivered, feeling a little ill. He hadn't had enough of the strong turab to be drunk, really. No, No, he thought, he thought, it's leaving those men alive that sickens me. it's leaving those men alive that sickens me.

"Where to now?" he asked.

"Well, as much as I hate to disappoint poor Rosie, I think this would be a good time to take our leave. Unless you'd care to spend a night with her?"

"I think I'll take my chances in the woods."

They made their way back through the crooked streets, meeting no one but a few drunken sailors and a would-be footpad, who thought better of it when Mic.u.m showed his sword.

No one challenged them at the stables when they came for their horses. The tavern windows were dark now.

Thero drew a sigh of relief when they were finally away from the city and in the cover of the trees again. "So this is what you did, you and Seregil, when you were out on the road for Nysander?"

"In part."

"And the parts that gave you all those scars?"

"This was an easy night, Thero. You were quick-witted back there, by the way. Not bad, for a wet-behind-the-ears tower wizard."

Pleased, Thero took that for the compliment it was.

CHAPTER 40 40.

Silver Eyes

JUST BEFORE SUNRISE, Seregil and the others found shelter in the ruins of an abandoned stone barn. The house it had served had fallen into the foundation hole and there were no signs of life about the place, just ruined fences and a dry well.

The barn had been struck by lightning and half the roof had burned and fallen in. Rats and bats had taken over, and seemed none too pleased to entertain unexpected guests. A rodent half the size of Ruetha leaped from the shadows and snapped at the little bundle of food Alec had brought.

Ilar let out a startled cry and tried to run, but Seregil dragged him into the shadows by the back wall. "Behave yourself, or this can be your permanent resting place. It's your choice."

Ilar went sulky and made a great show of sc.r.a.ping the ground with his foot to clear away the various droppings before he sat down.

Alec kept the rhekaro with him as he and Seregil made a survey of the place. A brightening sky showed through the large holes in the roof.

"Yhakobin is bound to come looking for us," Alec murmured, peering out through the broken doorway.

"Us, or you and that?" Seregil asked, pointing at the rhekaro. "Ilar told me it was you that he was after when we were ambushed. Because you're from the Hazadrielfaie line."

Alec nodded slowly. "He needed my kind of blood to make the rhekaro. He even tried to treat me well, sometimes, because of it."

"Only sometimes?"

"I didn't like him or the things he did to me."

"Like what?"

"No, nothing like that. It was just-Can we talk about this later? I'm so tired."

"Of course!" Seregil embraced him as best he could and felt Alec go limp against him for a moment, resting his head on Seregil's shoulder. It was the first proper embrace they'd been able to share, and he didn't want to let him go. "After the ambush, for the longest time, I was so afraid you might be dead."

Alec's arms tightened around him. "I thought the same, until I saw you on the deck of that ship at Riga. I knew then that I had to stay alive and find you again."

"I'm not sure who found who, in the end, but here we are." He kissed Alec and reluctantly released him.

Turning his attention to the landscape outside, he saw no sign of pursuit but doubted that would last. Who knew what sort of powers an alchemist had for finding lost slaves? Or the slave takers, for that matter.

Ilar was waiting sullenly for them, curled up in a ruined stall now and shivering in his stolen cloak.

Alec sat down some distance from him and fed the rhekaro again. Seregil made himself watch, figuring he might as well get used to it, though it still struck him as obscene.

Doing his best to hide his revulsion, he sat down beside Alec and opened the bundle. "Let's see what you stole for food. My belly thinks my throat's been cut."

The three of them ate sparingly, sharing a bit of bread around and paring hard cheese thin on slices of apples taken from the orchard the night before. As always, the rhekaro ate nothing and didn't seem interested in the water, either. According to Alec, the rhekaro had been given only a few drops of Alec's blood each morning to live on, and nothing more.

Seregil took the first watch, sitting in shadows of the barn door with his back to a beam and a good view of the western barrens. Alec stretched out beside him with his head on Seregil's thigh. Ilar remained in his corner, snoring softly.

The rhekaro seemed to have no more need of sleep than it did of food, but it curled up beside Alec, as if seeking the warmth of another body like a cat would. Or a serpent, Or a serpent, Seregil thought, eyeing it warily as he stroked Alec's hair. Seregil thought, eyeing it warily as he stroked Alec's hair.

The rhekaro stared back at him. Those unnerving silver eyes weren't blank, but the kind of intelligence they might hold eluded him.

After a moment it turned away and looked down at Alec's sleeping form. Then it lay down beside him in a similar position, and closed its eyes.

It's trying to act like a real being, thought Seregil, surprised. He waited a few minutes, then shuffled his feet a little to make a noise. Those silvery eyes snapped open and it looked around, identifying the source. Seregil moved his feet again to show it. It stared at him for a moment, and Seregil felt the hair on the back of his neck p.r.i.c.kling, strong as if there was lightning in the air. Apparently deciding that he was either no threat or very uninteresting, it returned to its semblance of sleep. thought Seregil, surprised. He waited a few minutes, then shuffled his feet a little to make a noise. Those silvery eyes snapped open and it looked around, identifying the source. Seregil moved his feet again to show it. It stared at him for a moment, and Seregil felt the hair on the back of his neck p.r.i.c.kling, strong as if there was lightning in the air. Apparently deciding that he was either no threat or very uninteresting, it returned to its semblance of sleep.

The light was stronger now, showing Seregil something he'd missed before; there was no mistaking the resemblance. Pale and unnatural as it was, the creature truly had Alec's face, or at least the face as it might have looked when Alec was a child. As he compared the two, he noticed something else. Alec looked different somehow, and it wasn't just from dust and exhaustion.

He looked more 'faie.

He shook his head. "What did they do to you, tali?"

Alec slept on, and Seregil returned his attention to the horizon as the day grew warmer, watching for dust rising against the sky. He wasn't looking forward to the conversation they were going to have when Alec woke up.

A few hours later Alec yawned and sat up. The rhekaro rose, too, and huddled close to Alec, as if it sensed what was coming. Behind them, Ilar was still sound asleep.

"Alec, you know we can't keep this creature," Seregil said, getting right to the point.

"What are you talking about? Of course we can!"

"Oh, yes. He won't raise any eyebrows when we get to Aurenen, with those looks, now will he?"

"Seregil-"

"Or in Rhiminee. What sort of explanation will we give there, eh? That he didn't get enough milk as a babe, or enough sun? Alec, I'm no wizard, but even I can feel a strangeness around this thing."

And there was that sudden stubborn set of the jaw again. "I don't know what we'll tell them, but we'll think of something. We always do! And he's not a 'thing.' His name is Sebrahn, I told you."

Seregil sighed. "This isn't some stray kitten, Alec. It's not even a child."

"Then what do you suggest? Just leaving him here to die?"

"Of course not. That would be cruel. I'll take care of it for you."

Alec sprang to his feet and put the rhekaro behind him. Then he did something he'd never done before: he drew his sword on Seregil. "You're not going to kill him!"

Seregil rose slowly and held his hands out by his sides, making no effort to protect himself, though his heart was hammering in his chest and he felt sick to his stomach. "You'd choose that that over me? So all that's happened between us comes to no more than this?" over me? So all that's happened between us comes to no more than this?"

Alec lowered his sword at once, eyes br.i.m.m.i.n.g with tears. "No! I mean-Don't make me choose!"

"It's unnatural! For all we know, it's dangerous, too."

"Yhakobin said he could heal. He was making him for the Overlord, to cure his son. And he is is alive, not just some-thing. He can learn. Yhakobin taught him to do simple tasks around the workshop. He understood me when I asked him to bring me things. Look, I'll show you!" He tapped the rhekaro on the shoulder and said, "Bring me the cheese." alive, not just some-thing. He can learn. Yhakobin taught him to do simple tasks around the workshop. He understood me when I asked him to bring me things. Look, I'll show you!" He tapped the rhekaro on the shoulder and said, "Bring me the cheese."