Zolan's face had become masklike, as we had seen it before when he was not minded to share his thoughts. He stood up, and the ill-fitting clothing he wore seemed transformed into a regal robe as he delivered a true courtier's bow.

"My thanks to you, ladies. At least I have new facts to think upon which may help me in the future. Rest you well; I go to check on the mounts." He bowed again and left us.

"Is he, or is he not, the lost king?" mused Bina.

"He has courtly manners," suggested Cilla.

"Which he could," I replied, "have learned elsewhere than at court. It may well be that he was young enough to forget his life in the Upper World but that Pharsali's training readied him instead to be a king of Gurlyon."

As I lay in the nest of gra.s.s I had pulled for a bed and tugged my cloak over me, I wondered what snarl would tangle this skein of the World-Weavers ere we all reached our journey's end. I fully expected to dream, but I brought no memory of night-visions back with me into wakefulness when we roused in the morning.

I sat up, still yawning, to see Zolan a little away from our camp. With sword in hand, he was striving to follow a pattern of attack-at least, I thought thought it was attack-and making a very poor show of armsmanship. it was attack-and making a very poor show of armsmanship.

He might resent any word from me; however, if one wears a sword, one must be prepared to use it. Gurlys, who were trained from the time they could stand and hold a hilt tightly, might not all be masters of the blade, but the poorest of instruction exceeded none at all. Was it now my duty to offer a child's weapon-training? To any of my own people, such an offer would have been insulting, but then they would have no need of it. I could not let our host be butchered just because words from me might injure his pride.

Glad that I had no skirts to impede me, I stepped fully into his sight, my own sword in my hand. As I thought he would do, he stopped short in his awkward posturing and stood panting, set-faced and offering me no welcome.

Planting my swordpoint in the earth, I set both hands on the hilt. The stance I copied from Markand, who had given me training. It was a posture of his I had come to dread, since such attention always meant he was going to speak of some error of mine with blistering heat. Perhaps I a.s.sumed my role too well, for Zolan retreated and started to return his weapon to the sheath he had fashioned to hold it. Still, I knew I must warn him that ignorance of his weapon might mean speedy death. Unless he summoned up Talent-a tactic that would lead to cries of witchcraft and perhaps fiery death at the stake.

"I was lessoned young," I said. "My father ordered that we be taught to use weapons when we were still children. The folk whom you must meet to fulfill your promise to Pharsali, those of gentle blood, and others, are so instructed as well. The Gurlys are quick to take offense, especially when they are drunk-a common state for many of them. When the 'lifewater' flows freely, they pick quarrels, which can only be settled by bloodletting."

I paused. He had halted in his withdrawal and seemed to be listening thoughtfully. Send touched me.

"Show, do not tell, sister." Cilla stepped up beside me.

She had never shown any pleasure in martial art, but now she did something I never thought to see-she unfastened the c.u.mbersome dress, let it fall to the ground, and overstepped its folds. I did not need another mind-touch to know what she planned.

"By favor," I asked him carefully, "give your blade to Cilla. Let us show how such weapon work is done."

He visibly hesitated, but my concern had evidently made its point. Advancing, he gripped the blade of the old weapon, then held out its hilt to Cilla. Following her example, I shed my disguise also.

We sketched the grave and graceful salute of those who would meet blade to blade. Then we set to. The clothes from the Dismals were much akin to our usual practice garments and, after a few moments of limbering up, we were at our mock conflict in earnest.

This play-war was akin to returning to some long-loved but nigh-forgotten place for me. The ring of blades was sweeter in my ears than the finest court music, and my feet moved as they might serve me in one of the formal dances there.

Cilla was good-she could not help but be, after the training she had. But her lessons had never become a real part of her as they had with me. At length I tried a thrust I had proudly learned only a short time before this whole strange adventure had begun, and her blade was neatly out of her hand.

"Well done!"

I swung around then to face Zolan yet again. He stared at me, at Cilla's sword lying on the ground, then back to me, before he said: "Such mastery takes time to acquire."

"Yes. But if you will wear a sword, you can be readily forced to use it." Frankly, at that moment I had no idea how we were to solve this problem. Even if we could meet with those whom Mother had said were on their way to us, the distance they must cover might mean days of travel ahead. More troubling still was the plan for Zolan to seek out the Gurlyon court, where the king prided himself on his knowledge of military art, and those wishing to curry favor with him must be apt with the sword. If by chance the Gurly ruler showed interest in Zolan, he would find faults aplenty in the newcomer. Somehow I had not foreseen this problem when I had so quickly accepted the Jug Woman's mission.

Zolan stepped past me and picked up the weapon Cilla had dropped, to stand looking at the discolored blade as if he wished to imprint the sight of it deeply in his memory. As he slipped it back into its makeshift sheath, his lips were a tight line. Then he looked up.

"My ignorance being so great, what is left to me?" His question held no note of self-pity but showed a bald acceptance of fact. "This?" He held up his hand, palm out and fingertips well separated in the manner we used when readying ourselves to call on Power.

I shook my head, but before I could answer, Bina did it for me.

"Such Power is also a danger," she replied as she helped Cilla fasten her dress once more. "Dark magic leads its user straight into the fire. And these Gurlys, for the most part, fear any with the Talent. Your quarry would be quick to name you Dark One and raise the land against you."

He folded his arms. "Do you tell me, then, that my sworn journey is fruitless?"

"No, for are we not sworn also to the same? Scorpy word is not broken," I said, knowing that I spoke the truth. We were as pent in his difficulties as he was.

"We"-Bina spoke slowly, as if not quite sure which word would be the next one out of her lips-"must play the game of a Misrule."

Zolan looked blank, as well he might, but we fastened at once on her meaning. In Alsonia at Midwinter Day, there was always feasting, and for that day all rank and rule was forgot. One of the waiting-maids became queen when she plucked a silver ring from the morn-cake; servants became masters until the coming of night. And all revelers used imagination to the full in inventing a disguise of strange clothing. One person might be an animal, another a character from some story, but, whatever the mask and costume chosen, during those hours each was required to act as he, she-or it-appeared. Sometimes overzealous playacting led to trouble; however, our gracious queen had done much to refine manners since coming to the throne.

"What would you devise?" Bina looked to Cilla, who had always been the most creative one of us. Several times in the past she had taken prizes for costumes for the Midwinter Day festivals.

Wiping sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, she moved to stand directly in front of Zolan, surveying him from head to foot and back again with an intense scrutiny.

"Can you mask?" she asked at last.

"Mask?" he echoed.

"Thus." Again we must instruct our onetime teacher with "show," not "tell."

Cilla appeared to have drawn up over her face an ever-thickening veil. For a moment or two, the shadowy stuff hung firmly in place, then it grew thinner. Cilla's features remained but she was no longer our sister-instead, our great-aunt Drucilla stood there, plainly ill-pleased at the position in which she found herself.

Zolan stared.

"Great-aunt Drucilla," she said. "You see, boy, it is not in the least difficult. Simply draw upon the Talent you were given. Take someone you know well, summon a projection of that person, then hold fast the mask that comes. It must be renewed from time to time, but you need only call upon it when truly necessary. Do you understand?"

"Yes." If he did understand, he obviously was not entirely certain. It was Bina who pointed out the weak spot in what we had hoped was a strong answer for our needs.

"Zolan, how many like yourself and us do you know?"

Suddenly he grinned as if he had at last found a key to what we were suggesting. His face became expressionless. A puff of mist gathered beneath his chin, journeyed slowly upward even as the one Cilla had summoned did for her. So, even if his Talent was different, still he could achieve like results. But, having heard Bina, we were alert to learn what would emerge from behind the transforming fog.

Fade it did. We stood stock-still, though we should have suspected what was coming. Cilla was confronting herself-a little taller, to be sure, and possessing a somewhat odd figure, but at least wearing the proper features.

"Thus?" Zolan asked, his voice suspiciously meek.

Great-aunt Drucilla's brows grew, producing some more new, if small, wrinkles.

"Do not jest, boy. If you cannot do it, why not just say so?"

The fourth sister disappeared. Zolan was frowning too. "I have no other guides."

"Yet you did not fail, either," Cilla said, allowing Great-aunt Drucilla to withdraw also. "Thus-you can can mask, if you wish." mask, if you wish."

He shrugged. "Well, I will have no need of such mummery if we do not ride on-the morning is well spent."

Drucilla

Following the same action as the day before we at last continued on our way. No talk broke the silence among us; we-at least we Scorpys-were still striving to solve the problem Zolan presented. Though we were very used to him, it was far from difficult to realize how any Gurly of this wasteland would see him as a very strange traveler, one to be mentioned as soon as any honest man was again with his fellows.

My sisters have always credited me with being able to provide unusual clothing and oversee effective costumes for the festival. Now, however, we needed another person to provide an outward seeming for Zolan to copy, and perhaps I had at last met with an exercise in disguise I could not solve.

The clothing he had taken from the peddler's pack covered him in a lumpy fashion that did nothing to alter his upright posture. His skin was still far too pale for any wayfarer, though that condition could be corrected, and his hair might be trimmed as Tam's had been to the general length common for a male. No, the safest guise of all was the mask, but he must have a model for that-to really summon a disguise that would hold, the summoner must be very well acquainted with the model.

We had started our day's journey late and kept our pace slow. Our noon halt was late, as well, and it was also mealless. Climber had again added leapers to the burden of one of the ponies, yet Zolan built no fire. However, we did not rebuke him for such privation, since we had ridden over fresh tracks-those of cattle, probably the small and dangerous black ones of the mountains.

An inspection of the tracks also showed impressions made by unshod horses; we might be viewing what had betrayed a raider. For the Gurlys not only raided across the Border but also refined their skills by preying upon strangers in the highlands where the rumored barbaric old clans were thought to have headquarters. Thus a raid in this part of Gurlyon was a distinct feat of daring.

The last such outlaws we wanted to meet were Reivers of this part of the land. When we pa.s.sed our warning on to Zolan he accepted it, turning more to the left, since the track seemed to be angling west.

Our animals were faring better than we. Unless we had better fortune, we might soon be faint enough to tumble off our mounts, too weak to go farther.

It was then that Climber came shooting towards us, his scarlet coat like a flame. Zolan signaled a stop and waited for his bond-beast to arrive. Having exchanged a Send, which was still unreadable as far as we were concerned, he shared Climber's report with us.

"There are buildings beyond-some have been half destroyed by fire. Climber found no life in the place. Let us scout and discover what we can."

Reivers was my unspoken thought. If a holding had been attacked, it might well be that only death remained. However, a faint chance existed that we might find supplies. Zolan went from horse to pony to horse, gazing intently into the eyes of each. The ponies were freed of the lead ropes but not unburdened until after Zolan's beast had led us to a dip in the ground. In that sheltered cup they scattered to graze. was my unspoken thought. If a holding had been attacked, it might well be that only death remained. However, a faint chance existed that we might find supplies. Zolan went from horse to pony to horse, gazing intently into the eyes of each. The ponies were freed of the lead ropes but not unburdened until after Zolan's beast had led us to a dip in the ground. In that sheltered cup they scattered to graze.

We three, working as one, set Wards which would keep out other folk, should strays still roam the land from the herding party we believed had been responsible for a raid. Once the barriers had been raised and secured we joined Climber.

The countryside was far less level here, though the rises were not of great height. We took advantage of every chance for cover; the three of us also strove to sense out any other presence. We had often done this before from mere curiosity and had had no results; we followed the same pattern now. Climber would have to serve as advance scout.

Suddenly I sniffed. Something was, or had been, burning not too many hours before. A brisk breeze blew into our faces bearing that scent. Belly down, we crawled up the nearest slope to see what lay on the other side.

Twenty.

Drucilla

Many tales are told concerning the vicious cruelty of raiders. I myself had tended survivors of such attacks who had been brought to Grosper in the past. However, no previous experience prepared me for such devastation. What I now saw was a horror greater than any I had ever dreamed.

The place of destruction was no shepherd's cot but a tower keep of some size. Trails of dark smoke threaded groggily upward to taint the sky. Bodies lay here and there, undoubtedly those of the inhabitants, as the raiders would have taken their dead with them if they had been beaten off. Certainly what we could see did not suggest that this struggle had ended in victory for the defenders of the keep.

I noted Climber picking his way toward the disaster. Though we had seen no signs of life, the beast from the Dismals advanced cautiously, using bushes for a blind here and there, and stopping to scent the acrid air. He reached the level land of the settlement, where stood the burnt-out remains of huts. Again for a s.p.a.ce of time he simply stood as if now his ears and nose would serve him best.

Zolan made no comment but simply launched himself downhill. Within a step or so he commenced running swiftly until he skidded to a stop in earth loosened by churning hooves. Only then did he look up to wave us on. Tam was the first on her feet, and Bina was nearly as quick to follow. I, however, longed to turn in the other direction. What profit could there be in searching such bloodied chaos? Though hunger was a constant pain, surely those who had looted here had either carried off all supplies or wasted them past use. I had no choice but to follow, but I did so at a slower pace.

Tamara

Hand to sword, I joined Zolan and was the first of us three to reach him. The stench of smoke and other odors I would rather not identify set me coughing. We were on a track-it could not be termed road-leading directly to the keep. Facing each other across this rough way, the wreckage of two huts lay mounded to our right and left.

Faceup beside one of these small dwellings, a woman lay stripped of clothing, her arms pulled up above her head and lashed to the broken haft of a small spear. Beneath her, the ground had been recently readied for planting. Beyond her body was that of a boy, treated in like manner, showing many stab wounds.

I made the Sign of Calling the Great One, not only for the peace of the suffering but that those who had used them so might be summoned to full justice.

We moved on as Bina and Cilla joined us. Bina gave one quick glance and also made the Sign. Cilla copied it without looking.

Those two were not all the dead, merely the first. Indeed, so often were we confronted from either side by such scenes that they lost the power to shock, only to sicken those who looked upon them. Here Evil had been given rein, so fully that Fear could well follow.

The door to the wall surrounding the tower keep was gone but, where one would expect remnants of a broken barrier, none such existed. From the complete absence of any torn hasps or fragments of wood, no portal might have ever been mounted here. The strangeness of that empty frame made me reach out and clutch Zolan's arm, bringing him also to a stop.

Some trick of Talent? I studied all three sides of the opening in the stone wall. The edges bore a rim of dirty yellow around their perimeter. Now another harsh, biting odor intruded strongly on my senses. I loosed my hold on Zolan and inched forward. This-I had heard rumors of this use of Power but never had seen evidence of its reality.

Here was legend come to life. I looked around. Another broken lance lay not too far away. Fetching it, I pushed forward. With the splinter-headed weapon held in front of me, I drew the shaft up, down, and around the three sides of the doorway, being careful not to touch the yellowed edges.

"What would you do?" Zolan demanded.

I used the spear to indicate the nearest length of yellow line. "When a raid comes, a door of wood may be beaten in, or set aflame, if the defenders are unable to pick off their attackers by arrow. That was not what befell in this place. Old Lore teachers that some of the Talented of ancient times had other weapons unknown to us. I think a siege-engine of Power might have been used here. We must all keep well away from those lines when we go in."

I was not sure that I wished to enter at all, and I could sense that Bina and certainly Cilla thought such action highly dangerous. Zolan, though, was not to be deterred from his quest. Having regarded me searchingly for a second or two, he marched on through the break left by the missing gate. A sense of responsibility sent me after him. It was true that he was Talented, but what had been wrought here was of the Upper Land and not the Dismals and might therefore be the product of Power alien to all he knew. At least I had heard heard of such a weapon, while he did not recognize it; thus it must be of this world. of such a weapon, while he did not recognize it; thus it must be of this world.

Contrary to what we might have expected, the strip of land about the base of the tower was not near filled with bodies. Several corpses, however, lay in line with the missing gate, and these folk had not been killed by steel or snaplock ball. Their bodies lay in positions that made us sure they had died in great pain and terror, yet we saw no outward signs of wounds.

The door of the keep itself had not been made to vanish by some spell as had the outer portal; here an improvised battering ram, still lying to one side, had been brought to bear. Perhaps if the other weapon had been born of Power, it had been exhausted in a single use.

We explored. Death reigned everywhere, from the bodies of a pair of sleuthhounds trained for defense to the pitiful small form of a cradled baby in the great hall. She who had been doubtless its mother lay naked and savaged beside it. Again we called down the Peace of the Great One and could only believe that all within these walls were now safe at rest within the ever-living Light.

Trying to close our minds to the slaughter, we made our way to where the storerooms must be. Since winter was only a short time behind us, and the first crops were yet to be harvested-many not even showing above the soil-supplies would be few, and perhaps all had been taken by the raiders. Still, through some strange quirk of fortune, we did find fruit, very dry, and also the hard kernels of dashen. We stored all we discovered in hide bags that were stacked nearby, perhaps the same in which those supplies had been brought.

Bina went exploring in another room off the kitchen, crunching through the debris of broken pipkins and battered pans. She, too, made use of a bag, filling it with what she found in the stillroom.

And it was she who made another surprising discovery.