Part 82 (1/2)
”There's a bridge in the forest?”
His smile was cold. Far too cold.
”There is a pa.s.sage,” he said quietly. ”I would advise against it, were you any other mortal.”
”What the h.e.l.ls does that mean?”
”It means,” he replied, drawing his sword from the air in front of his slender breast, ”that you should not dismount until we are clear of the trees.”
”And Kallandras?”
”Kallandras, as you call him, has walked a darker road than this in his time, if I am not mistaken.”
She didn't like the way he said the bard's name. It was almost possessive.
Seven paths. ”The forest-that's not a path?”
He laughed. The sound was beautiful. Funny, that beauty had come to be synonymous with things that were distant and cold. ”It is not one of the seven,” he replied. ”I ask again, Lady, that you choose a mortal road.”
”Seven paths,” she said, lost in the number, the two words. ”No”
”No?”
”They're guarded. There are at least seven of the kin on the edge of town.” She said the words as if she were groping her way toward truth. She was. ”They're probably there to make sure that no one else escapes.”
He nodded. ”We can-”
”Yes. We can. But not without announcing our presence.”
”It is not our way to skulk.”
”It is our way to skulk,” she snapped back. ”Are there so many of the kin?”
”They are many, in the h.e.l.ls.”
”Here, d.a.m.nit. Here. Are there so many that they can just be sent out in numbers to capture one lousy village?”
”That is the first intelligent question you've asked this eve.”
”Thank you, Avandar.”
Kallandras raised his head; until he did, she had not noticed that he had bowed it. ”No,” he said. ”I think that this village is of import.”
”Or something in it?”
”Or something within the Torrean.”
She was silent as she absorbed the words. ”They can't . . . know . . . that we're here.”
”Not us, no.”
”Then what?”
”It is said-in the South-that the Sun Sword was crafted to be demon-bane.”
”You think they-”
He shrugged. ”Understand, ATerafin, that although they were rare, the immortal races were not without their seers.”
”But-”
”I have had some experience,” he said, and the complete neutrality of his tone was chilling.
”Lord Celleriant?”
The Arianni lord was gazing at Kallandras. After a moment, he bowed; his hair draped across his left shoulder. Across his right, he now carried a Northern bow. ”I will lead,” he said gravely.
She nodded. But she looked to Avandar.
He said nothing. His eyes still glittered with golden fire. A little, she thought, like the sun-the afterimage of the flames was burned into her vision for minutes, obscuring all else.
”Well, Adelos?” Alessandro kai di'Clemente said, when the strangers had disappeared into the forest's depths.
”Tor'agar,” Ser Adelos said, inclining his head. He could not bow without dismounting.
”Reymos?”
”Tor'agar.”
”Come. Your silence is unpleasant. We are not among outsiders now. Tell me.”
The two men shared an uneasy glance. Alessandro waited for Reymos to speak. He a.s.sumed it would be Reymos, for Adelos often left the difficult words to the more quiet Toran.
Reymos ran a hand through his beard and cleared his throat. ”I trust them.”
”Good. Adelos?”
”I concur.”
”But?”
”The man-the seraf-that serves the Northern woman.”
”Yes?”
He shook his head. ”I would not anger him. Not if you offered me the whole of the Terrean as reward.”
Alessandro nodded again. ”Come. We have two hours to travel before we arrive in Damar, and Ser Amando is not known for his patience.”
Adelos spit to one side.