[Lanen Kaelar 03] - Redeeming the Lost (4 page)

“There is khaadish, Idai,” said Varien, at the
same time that Rella said, “You have gold, don’t you?”

“Khaadish?” asked Idai. Concern flowed into
Confusion. “What might be done with khaadish?”

“Even a very litde of it can do a great deal,
Idai,” said Varien. “It is peculiar, I know, but the Gedri value khaadish greatly.
A small quantity, enough only to fit in my hand, will purchase food and a place
to rest for us all.” He turned to Will. “Would that suffice for your friend?”

Will raised one eyebrow, and I marvelled again
at the mobility of Gedri faces. “I expect he’ll faint dead away. I don’t think
he’s ever seen gold before. But his farm is two long days distant, in the steep
hills to the north—”

A hiss of amusement from behind me took me
unawares, and Kedra, coming up beside me, laughed. “Ah, my father, it is good
to know I can still surprise you!” he said. We touched soulgems by way of
greeting, as only parent and child ever do. “You are not known to me, friend,
but as you stand with Lord Varien and the Lady Rella I trust that you aire a
good soul. I am called Kedra, the son of Shikrar.”

“Willem of Rowanbeck,” said Will, bowing. “I
am glad to meet you, Kedra, and I don’t want to be rude, but we were talking
about finding a way to get you and your friends something to eat.”

“That is why I arrived so swiftly to offer my
services,” Kedra said, his eyes alight. “I heard your objection. A two-day walk
uphill for one of the Gedri is a very, very short way to fly, I suspect. Will
you come with me in token of our good faith, and treat with your friend on our
behalf? For I have khaadish with me.” He opened his hand, and there between the
great claws was a small lump of khaadish, gleaming and pretty enough but
useless for most purposes. Why the Gedri value it I will never know.

Will, however, choked. “Sweet Lady! Here,
Kedra, Timeth is a friend of mine, but even I won’t fie for him so far!” He
bared his teeth in the Gedri expression of friendship. ‘That would be riches
beyond his wildest dreams. Half of it would be very generous payment indeed for
his kine and a sure guarantee of a place to rest for the next few months, while
he gets his breeding stock back to work. There is a good stream on his land as
well. But for pity’s sake don’t offer him that dirty great lump of gold! His
heart would stop at the sight of it.”

Kedra bowed, his eyes alight with amusement. “Are
you of the kindred of Lady Lanen?” he asked. ‘Tour words remind me of hers.
Very well.” He carefully cut the lump of khaadish in half and dropped it in
Will’s outstretched hand.

‘That’s more like it,” said Will.

“And now, Master Willem, will you trust me to
bear you?”

asked Kedra. “I have flown thus before,
carrying one of you Gedri.”

“Aye, and you managed well enough then,” said
Rella, her voice light. “You never dropped me once.”

“Mistress Rella!” cried Kedra, bowing to her. “It
gives me joy to see you.”

“Same here, my lad. Welcome. You can trust
him, I reckon, Will.”

Kedra hissed his amusement. “I thank you for
the recommendation. Come, Master Will. Shall we go swiftly? Be assured, I know
how to counterbalance with a weight in my hands—and my young son is very, very
hungry.”

Will

I couldn’t help it. I knew it was rude, but I
hesitated. No matter what Rella said those claws were bloody huge. This one
wasn’t nearly the size of Shikrar, thank the Lady, but it was still immense.
And it—he—wanted to carry me in those—Hells, it would be like travelling in a
cage of swords.

Hmmm. It had carved gold like butter with a
single claw.

A cage of sharp swords, wielded by a giant.

Kedra didn’t rush me, though; he just watched
and waited. I had come to like his father, Shikrar, over the few days I had
known him. For all his overwhelming size and power, I was beginning to see in
Shikrar simply another soul. Different, having lived a different life in a very
different body, but for all that there were similarities. He had destroyed the
Raksha that attacked us up on the High Field in the hills, as we would have if
we had had the power; he treated all of us poor weak humans with respect, when
clearly he had no need to do so; and it was obvious that he was worried sick
about his friend Varien, and about Lanen.

Besides, I had raised my dragon-daughter
Salera from her earliest youth, when I found her dam dying in the woods and she
so lost and alone. I had fed her and raised her until she had grown to her full
stature and left me, but I knew her and loved her as she did me. She trusted
Shikrar absolutely. Surely I could trust his son?

And the idea of flying—ah, now. All those
dreams of soaring made real. That was temptation.

I swallowed my fear. “Very well, Master Kedra.
I’d be pleased to come with you and show you the way.”

Kedra nodded, and it looked very like
approval. “It is well. Come apart with me, then, and tell me where this farm
lies.”

“Right now? I mean—I—don’t you need to recover
a bit first?” I asked nervously. For now it was come to the point, my palms
were moist with sweat.

‘The need of my son for food is greater than
my own need to rest, though I thank you,” said Kedra. I wondered if that was
amusement I heard in his voice. “Come, let us go a little apart. I will need
room to take to the sky. And perhaps I should warn you, it may be a little
violent at first.”

“Aye, well, birds always seem to have to flap
harder when they’re taking off, I suppose it makes sense,” I said, only reahsing
that that might come across as an insult after I’d said it—but no, it was much,
much worse than an insult. He was curious.

“Flap?” asked Kedra. “What means ‘flap’? I do
not know the word.”

“It means to—to—you know, move your wings
fast,” I sputtered, gesturing uselessly, trying to avoid what I knew was
coming, but Kedra was none the wiser. I sighed. “Like this,” I said, and I
swear to you, there in front of all those noble people and ancient dragons I
started flapping my arms, as you do with childer, pretending to be a bird.

Great peals of laughter rang out from away
behind me, and I swear that wretch Aral’s was the loudest, but Kedra gave a
great hiss and nodded. Thank the Lady I’d learned that hissing is the way
dragons laugh or I’d have run a league. Hells take it, his teeth were huge.

“It is a good word. Yes. I shall have to flap
harder to leave the ground,” said Kedra. “Shall we go?”

“Aye,” I said. The sniggers coming from the
direction of my friends stiffened my backbone as we walked a bit apart from the
rest and I pointed out the direction Timeth’s farm lay in and tried to describe
the way there. The memory of looking like an idiot helped me steel myself to
step on to the palm of Kedra’s hand. His other came around to protect me, and
with a sudden leap and a series of wrenching jerks we were in the air.

Blessed Lady aid me, I’m for it now, I thought
as I fought to keep my stomach under control. I’m going to have to come back
with him, too.

I went to visit her, the day before it
shattered. It would be my last chance. I wanted to gloat.

It wasn’t as if I had known her. Hells, I only
met her the autumn before, as a grown woman, and I only had the word of Berys’s
demon informers that she was my child. As far as I was concerned, she was the
price to be paid to end my pain and no more.

Don’t ask me why I went down there. Hells knew
she’d caused me enough trouble. I think I was just—curious. I expected to find
her proud independence laid low by helplessness, and I was looking forward to
seeing that. However, as I am not a fool, I took with me one of the large armed
guards that Berys had infested the place with. In case she made trouble. I had
just enough experience of my daughter to know that she might well try something
stupid.

We were, after all, still in the College of
Mages at Verfaren, where Berys was the respected Archimage. He did not wish to
reveal himself until all was prepared, so he kept Lanen in bespelled silence
that she might not cry out and alert some passerby, or use Farspeech to call for
aid from the damned dragon that was somewhere up in the hills a few miles away.
I persuaded Berys to change the nature of her silence at midday, that I might
speak with her in private. For that brief hour her voice would work as normal
within her cell, but nothing she said in Farspeech could get beyond the walls.
He didn’t like doing it, but he owed me that much.

I even took her food and drink. Berys didn’t
want me to do that, either. He was still nursing a grudge and a sore throat from
when she tried to strangle him, but I finally convinced him I needed her alive
and healthy to pay off the demons later that night. The College cook was most
generous when I requested a tray of hot food to take away to my chambers. The
woman seemed pleased that I was finally hungry. I hadn’t been hungry for
months. I think I had some idea of a last meal for a condemned prisoner.

I remembered just in time to wear the amulet
that Berys gave me to ward off the Rikti He had set to attack anyone who opened
the door. The guard took up his station just outside. I left the door a little
ajar, in case I needed him: out on the Dragon Isle she had knocked me
unconscious with one blow. I didn’t care to risk that j again.

The cell was small and simple, originally
meant for solitary study. Moving the locks from the inside of the cell to the
outside had been all that was required to make a serviceable dungeon. Thick
stone walls in good order, a tiny window for light and air, a heavy old wooden
door bound with iron. It was enough.

She was asleep. Berys’s spell was set to
change only when I en—I tered her cell, so she never heard the door being
unlocked. I made no sound. The scent of the food must have roused her, or the
change in light—in any case, she rose swiftly to her feet, and almost as swiftly
staggered back.

I had forgotten until the moment I saw her
astonishment that the last she had seen of me was when I was out of my mind.
Helpless, in fact. Perhaps there was some symmetry there.

She stood and stared at me, openmouthed, as I
put the tray down on the desk where she had been sleeping.

“Marik?” she whispered, and flinched in shock.

At the noise, as it happens.

“Sound—what—VARIEN! VARIEN, TO ME!” she
screamed, staring wildly around the room as if she expected to see someone else
hidden in the shadows.

“Save your breath,” I sneered, quite pleased
at her desperation. “Your voice won’t go beyond these walls. And neither will
your thoughts.” She shut up then, staring with wide eyes. “Oh,
yes, we know about your Farspeech. Or to be more
exact, I know about it.” I grinned at her. “Do you know, your dragon friends
did me a great service when they broke open my mind. I can hear them, just like
you.” I didn’t bother to tell her that I only heard two of them clearly and
could not respond. Only enough information to make her worry harder. “Not that
I thank them for it,” I added sourly. “They never damn well shut up.”

She gazed at me for a moment in silence,
completely unreadable. It was annoying.

“What?” I snapped.

“I have that problem too. Or I did, before
Berys cut me off from sound.” She stood and began to pace. “Goddess above, but
it’s good to hear something.”

“Keeping you quiet is no more than a sensible
precaution,” I replied, trying to ignore a flash of memory—the vision of a head
larger than my body, jaws agape, coming for me. I shuddered in my turn. “I
remember that big silver bastard, the one I half killed, coming through the
wall. I’d rather not have that happen here.”

When first I tried to honour my bargain with
the demons, out on the Dragon Isle, I nearly managed it. Berys’s apprentice,
(laderan, had summoned the demon in question, Lanen was given up to it, and I
thought all was accomplished—when that bloody great damned silver dragon came
through the flimsy wooden wall of the cabin, destroyed the demon, and stole
away my sacrifice. Caderan and I ran for safety, but that moment has haunted my
nightmares ever since.

“You are right to fear it,” she said, calmly.
I was impressed despite myself. “I don’t think you’d live through the
experience a second time.”

I laughed in her face. “Forgive me if I’m not
impressed by your threats, girl,” I said. “Besides, why are you wasting your
time talking? Your supper is getting cold.”

“Do you really think I’m going to eat anything
you’ve brought me?”

“Idiot. Why should I bother with drugs or
poison? Berys has spells for that.”

“True enough,” she said grudgingly.

“It’s just food. I thought you’d be hungry.”

She frowned her suspicion at me, but I expect
the smell rising from the tray soon made up her mind for her. Cutlets of pork
in a mushroom gravy. Berys must not have fed her since he captured her two days
since, she ate like one starving. It gave me a strange sense of satisfaction to
watch her eat. Like feeding the goose you know will soon grace your table at Midwinter
Fest.