voices of hungry ghosts, vengeful ghosts, jealous of the living. The kinds of ghosts that showed
up in the songs of her people, now and again, who sought only to lure others to their deaths, so
that they might have company.
How many fools how many ghosts
A white shape loomed up out of the dusk before them, blocking the path. A vague, ivory rider on
an ethereal silver horse, appearing suddenly and sound-lessly out of the snow, like a pallid
harbinger of cold death.
Li sa eer! Tarma croaked, and dropped the reins of both horses, pulling the sword slung at her
back in the next instant, and wondering wildly if God-dess-blessed steel could harm a hungry
ghost.
:Mindmate, nol:
Warrl jumped down from the hillside to her right to interpose his bulk between her and the spirit.
:Mindmate this is help I:
Peace upon you, lady. The voice of the one astride the strange white beast was not that of a
spirit; nor, when Tarma allowed a corner of herself to test the feel of him, was there any of the
tingle she associated with magic. The man s voice was not hollow, as a spirit s normally
sounded; it was warm, deep, and held a tinge of amusement. Your four-footed friend came
looking for aid, and we heard his calling. I did not mean to startle you.
Tarma s arms shook as she resheathed the blade. Goddess bless warn a body next time! You
just about ate six thumbs of steel!
Again, your pardon, but we could not tell ex-actly where you were. Your presences seem rather
... blurred.
Never mind that, Kethry interrupted from be-hind Tarma, her voice sharp. Who are you?
What are you? Why should we trust you?
The man did not seem to be taken aback by her words. You re wise not to take anything on
appearance, lady. You don t know me but I do know you; I ve talked to your friend mind-to-
mind, and I know who you are and what you wish. You can trust me on three counts. He and his
horse moved in to stand nose to nose with Ironheart. Tarma saw with no little surprise that even
in the fading light the beast s eyes were plainly a bright and startling blue. Firstly that you are
no longer in Rethwellan; you crossed the Border some time back, and you are in Valdemar. The
enemy on your backtrail will not be able to pass the Border, nor would I give you to him.
Secondly, that the man you seek, Prince Stefansen, is Valdemar s most welcome guest, and I will
be taking you to him as quickly as your tired beasts can manage. And thirdly, you can trust me
because of my office.
Look we re tired, we don t know anything about your land, and our friend, who might, is not
even half-conscious.
So that was what was making Keth s voice sound like she was walking on glass.
I seem to be making a mess of this, the man replied ruefully. I am Roald. one of the Heralds of
Valdemar. And you may believe your large, hairy friend there, that any Herald is to be trusted.
" .They are, mindmate,: Warrl confirmed. -.With more than life. There is no such creature as a
treacherous Herald.:
All right, Tarma thought, worn past exhaustion. We ve got no chance out here and you ve
never been wrong before this, Purface.
Lead on, Herald Roald, she said aloud. And wearily hoped Warrl was right this time, too.
Eight
Tarma clasped her blue-gray pottery mug in both her hands and sniffed the spicy, rich aroma of
the hot wine it contained a trifle warily. The stuff was too hot to drink; not that she minded. The
heat of it had warmed the thick clay of the mug, and that, in turn, was warming her hands so that
they no longer ached in each separate joint. And the heat gave her an excuse to be cautious about
drinking it.
She blinked sleepily at the flames in the fireplace before her, trying to muster herself back up to
full alertness. But she was feeling the heat seeping into her bones, and with the heat came
relaxation. The fire cast dancing patterns of light and shadow up into the exposed rough-hewn
beams of the square common room, and made the various trophies of horns and antlers hung on
the polished wooden walls seem to move. She didn t want to stir, not at all, and that had the
potential for danger.
She was wearing, bizarrely enough, some ofRoaId s spare clothing, all of her own too thoroughly
soaked even to bother with. A Kal enedral in white Warrior bless, now that s a strange thought.
Roald was the only one of them near to her size; off his horse he was scarcely more than a couple
of thumblengths taller than Tarma, and was just as rangy-thin. He was exceedingly handsome in a
rugged way, with a heavy shock of dark blond hair, a neat little beard, and eyes as blue as his
horse s.
I thought I d never be warm again. She settled a little more down into her chair and the
eiderdown they d given her to wrap around herself, and blinked at the kyree stretched out
between her and the flames. Warrl was fast asleep on the red-tiled hearth at her feet, having [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]