Steven Brust - Taltos 06 - Athyra Athyra by Steven Brust For Martin, and it's about time. Acknowledgments A whole bunch of people read early stages of this book and helped repair it. They are: Susan Allison Emma Bull Pamela Dean Kara Dalkey Fred Levy Haskell Will Shetterly Terri Windling As always, I'd like to humbly thank Adrian Charles Morgan, without whose work I wouldn't have a world that was nearly so much fun to write about. Special thanks to Betsy Pucci and Sheri Portigal for supplying the facts on which I based certain portions of this book. If there are errors, blame me, not them, and, in any case, don't try this stuff at home. PROLOGUE Woman, girl, man, and boy sat together, like good companions, around a fire in the woods. "Now that you're here," said the man, "explanations can wait until we've eaten." "Very well," said the woman. 'That smells very tasty." "Thank you," said the man. The boy said nothing. The girl sniffed in disdain; the others paid no attention. "What is it?" said the woman. "I don't recognize—" "A bird. Should be done, soon." "He killed it," said the girl, accusingly. "Yes?" said the woman. "Shouldn't he have?" "Killing is all he knows how to do." The man didn't answer; he just turned the bird on the spit. The boy said nothing. "Can't you do something?" said the girl. "You mean, teach him a skill?" said the woman. No one laughed. "We were walking through the woods," said the girl. "Not that / wanted to be here—" 2 Steven Brust "You didn't?" said the woman, glancing sharply at the man. He ignored them. "He forced you to accompany him?" she said. "Well, he didn't force me to, but I had to." "Hmmm." "And all of a sudden, I became afraid, and—" "Afraid of what?" "Of—well—of that place. I wanted to go a different way. But he wouldn't." The woman glanced at the roasting bird, and nodded, recognizing it. 'That's what they do," she said. "That's how they find prey, and how they frighten off predators. It's some sort of psychic ability to—" "I don't care," said the girl. 'Time to eat," said the man. "I started arguing with him, but he ignored me. He took out his knife and threw it into these bushes—" "Yes," said the man. "And here it is." "You could," said the woman, looking at him suddenly, "have just walked around it. They won't attack anything our size." "Eat now," said the man. "We can resume the insults later." The boy said nothing. The woman said, "If you like. But I'm curious—" The man shrugged. "I dislike things that play games with my mind," he said. "Besides, they're good to eat." The boy, whose name was Savn, had remained silent the entire time. But that was only to be expected, under the circumstances. Chapter One I will not marry a dung-foot peasant, I will not marry a dung-foot peasant, Life with him would not be pleasant. Hi-dee hi-dee ho-la! Step on out and do not tarry, Step on back and do not tarry, Tell me tell me who you'll marry. Hi-dee hi-dee ho-la! Savn was the first one to see him, and, come to that, the first to see the Harbingers, as well. The Harbingers behaved as Harbingers do: they went unrecognized until after the fact. When Savn saw them, his only remark was to his little sister, Polinice. He said, "Summer is almost over; the jhereg are already mating." "What jhereg, Savn?" she said. "Ahead there, on top of Tern's house." "Oh. I see them. Maybe they're life-mates. Jhereg do that, you know." "Like Easterners," said Savn, for no other reason than to show off his knowledge, because Polyi was now in her eighties and starting to think that maybe her brother didn't know everything, an attitude he hadn't yet come to terms with. Polyi didn't answer, and Savn took a last look at the jhereg, sitting on top of the house. The female was larger and becoming dark brown as summer gave way to autumn; the male was smaller and lighter in color. Savn guessed that in the spring the male would be green or grey, while the female would simply turn a lighter brown. He watched them for a moment as they sat there waiting for something to die. 4 Steven Brust They left the roof at that moment, circled Tern's house once, and flew off to the southeast. Savn and Polyi, all unaware that Fate had sent an Omen circling above their heads, continued on to Tern's house and shared a large salad with Tern's own dressing, which somehow managed to make linseed oil tasty. Salad, along with bread and thin, salty soup, was almost the only food Tem was serving, now that the flax was being harvested, so it was just as well they liked it. It tasted rather better than the drying flax smelled, but Savn was no longer aware of the smell in any case. There was also cheese, but Tem hadn't really mastered cheeses yet, not the way old Shoe had. Tem was still young as Housemasters go; he'd barely reached his five hundredth year. Polyi found a place where she could watch the room, and took a glass of soft wine mixed with water, while Savn had an ale. Polyi wasn't supposed to have wine, but Tem never told on her, and Savn certainly wouldn't. She looked around the room, and Savn caught her eyes returning to one place a few times, so he said, "He's too young for you, that one is." She didn't blush; another indication that she was growing up. She just said, "Who asked you?" Savn shrugged and let it go. It seemed like every girl in town was taken with Ori, which gave the lie to the notion that girls like boys who are strong. Ori was very fair, and as pretty as a girl, but what made him most attractive was that he never noticed the attention he got, making Savn think of Master Wag's story about the norska and the wolf. Savn looked around the house to see if Firi was there, and was both disappointed and relieved not to see her; disappointed because she was certainly the prettiest girl in town, and relieved because whenever he even thought about speaking to her he felt he had no place to put his hands. It was only during harvest that Savn was allowed to purchase a noon meal, because he had to work from early in the morning until it was time for him to go to Master Wag, and his parents had decided that he needed and de- ATHYRA 5 served the sustenance. And because there was no good way to allow Savn to buy a lunch and deny one to his sister, who would be working at the harvest all day, they allowed her to accompany him to Tern's house on the condition that she return at once. After they had eaten, Polyi returned home while Savn continued on to Master Wag's. As he was walking away, he glanced up at the roof of Tern's house, but the jhereg had not returned. The day at Master Wag's passed quickly and busily, with mixing herbs, receiving lessons, and keeping the Master's place tidy. The Master, who was stoop-shouldered and balding, and had eyes like a bird of prey, told Savn, for the fourth time, the story of the Badger in the Quagmire, and how he swapped places with the Clever Chreotha. Savn thought he might be ready to tell that one himself, but he didn't tell Master Wag this, because he might be wrong, and the Master had a way of mocking Savn for mistakes of overconfidence that left him red-faced for hours. So he just listened, and absorbed, and washed the Master's clothes with water drawn from the Master's well, and cleaned out the empty ceramic pots, and helped fill them with ground or whole herbs, and looked at drawings of the lung and the heart, and stayed out of the way when a visitor came to the Master for physicking. On the bad days, Savn found himself checking the time every half hour. On the good days, he was always surprised when the Master said, "Enough for now. Go on home." This was one of the good days. Savn took his leave, and set off. The afternoon was still bright beneath the orange-red sky. The next thing to happen, which was really the first for our purposes, occurred as Savn was returning home. The Master lived under the shadow of Smallcliff along the Upper Brownclay River, which was half a league from the village, and of course that was where he gave Savn lessons; he was the Master, Savn only an apprentice. About halfway between Smallcliff and the village was a place where a couple of trails came together in front of the Steven Brust Curving Stone. Just past this was a flattened road leading down to Lord Smallcliff's manor house, and it was just there that Savn saw the stranger, who was bent over, scraping at the road with some sort of tool. The stranger looked up quickly, perhaps when he heard Savn's footsteps, and cursed under his breath and looked up at the sky, scowling, before looking more fully at the lad. Only when the stranger straightened his back did Savn realize that he was an Easterner. They stared at each other for the space of a few heartbeats. Savn had never met an Easterner before. The Easterner was slightly smaller than Savn, but had that firm, settled look that comes with age; it was very odd. Savn didn't know what to say. For that matter, he didn't know if they spoke the same language. "Good evening," said the Easterner at last, speaking like a native, although a native of a place considerably south of Smallcliff. Savn gave him a good evening, too, and, not knowing what to do next, waited. It was odd, looking at someone who would grow old and die while you were still young. He's probably younger than I am right now, thought Savn, startled. The Easterner was wearing mostly green and was dressed for traveling, with a light raincape over his shoulder and a pack on the road next to him. There was a very fragile-looking sword at his hip, and in his hand was the instrument he'd been digging with—a long, straight dagger. Savn was staring at it when he noticed that one of the Easterner's hands had only four fingers. He wondered if this was normal for them. At that moment, the stranger said, "I hadn't expected anyone to be coming along this road." "Not many do," said Savn, speaking to him as if he were human; that is, an equal. "My Master lives along this road, and Lord Smallcliff's manor is down that one." The stranger nodded. His eyes and hair were dark brown, almost black, as was the thick hair that grew above his lip, and if he were human one would have said he was quite husky and very short, but this condition might, thought Savn, be normal among Easterners. He was ATHYRA 7 slightly bowlegged, and he stood with his head a little forward from his shoulders, as if it hadn't been put on quite right and was liable to fall off at any moment. Also, there was something odd about his voice that the young man couldn't quite figure out. Savn cleared his throat and said, "Did I, um, interrupt something?" The other smiled, but it wasn't clear what sort of thought or emotion might have prompted that smile. "Are you familiar with witchcraft?" he said. "Not very." "It doesn't matter." "I mean, I know that you, um, that it is practiced by—is that what you were doing?" The stranger still wore his smile. "My name is Vlad," he said. "I'm Savn." He gave Savn a bow as to an equal. It didn't occur to Savn until later that he ought to have been offended by this. Then the one called Vlad said, "You are the first person I've met in this town. What is it called?" "Smallcliff." "Then there's a small cliff nearby?" Savn nodded. "That way," he said, pointing back the way he'd come. "That would make it a good name, then." "You are from the south?" "Yes. Does my speech give me away?" Savn nodded. "Where in the south?" "Oh, a number of places." "Is it, um, polite to ask what your spell was intended to do? I don't know anything about witchcraft." Vlad gave him a smile that was not unkind. "It's polite," he said, "as long as you don't insist that I answer." "Oh." He wondered if he should consider this a refusal, and decided it would be safer to do so. It was hard to know what the Easterner's facial expressions meant, which was the first time Savn had realized how much he depended on these expressions to understand what people 8 Steven Brust were saying. He said, "Are you going to be around here longr "I don't know. Perhaps. It depends on how it feels. I don't usually stay anywhere very long. But while we're on the subject, can you recommend an inn?" Savn blinked at him. "I don't understand." "A hostel?" Savn shook his head, confused. "We're mostly pretty friendly here—" "A place to spend the night?" "Oh. Tern lets rooms to travelers." "Good. Where?" Savn hesitated, then said, "I'm going that way myself, if you would like to accompany me." Vlad hesitated in his turn, then said, "Are you certain it would be no trouble?" "None at all. I will be passing Tern's house in any case." "Excellent. Then forward, Undauntra, lest fear snag our heels." "What?" "The Tower and the Tree, Act Two, Scene Four. Never mind. Lead the way." As they set off along the Manor Road, Vlad said, "Where did you say you are off to?" "I'm just coming home from my day with Master Wag. I'm his apprentice." "Forgive my ignorance, but who is Master Wag?" "He's our physicker," said Savn proudly. 'There are only three in the whole country." "A good thing to have. Does he serve Baron Smallcliff, too?" "What? Oh, no," said Savn, shocked. It had never occurred to him that the Baron could fall ill or be injured. Although, now that Savn thought of it, it was certainly possible. He said, "His Lordship, well, I don't know what he does, but Master Wag is ours." The Easterner nodded, as if this confirmed something he knew or had guessed. ATHYRA 9 "What do you do there?" "Well, many things. Today I helped Master Wag in the preparation of a splint for Dame Sullen's arm, and reviewed the Nine Bracings of Limbs at the same time." "Sounds interesting." "And, of course, I learn to tell stories." "Stories?" "Of course." "I don't understand." Savn frowned, then said, "Don't all physickers tell stories?" "Not where I'm from." 'The south?" "A number of places." "Oh. Well, you tell stories so the patient has something to keep his mind occupied while you physick him, do you see?" "That makes sense. I've told a few stories myself." "Have you? I love stories. Perhaps you could—" "No, I don't think so. It was a special circumstance. Some fool kept paying me to tell him about my life; I never knew why. But the money was good. And he was able to convince me no one would hear about it." "Is that what you do? Tell stories?" The Easterner laughed slightly. "Not really, no. Lately I've just been wandering." 'To something, or away from something?" Vlad shot him a quick glance. "An astute question. How old are you? No, never mind. What's the food like at this place you're taking me to?" "Mostly salad this time of year. It's the harvest, you know." "Oh, of course. I hadn't thought of that." Vlad looked around as they walked. "I'm surprised," he remarked a little later, "that this has never been cleared for farming." 'Too wet on this side of the hill," said Savn. "The flax needs dry soil." "Flax? Is that all you grow around here?" 10 Steven Brust "Almost. There's a little maize for the stock, but it doesn't really grow well in this soil. It's mostly flax." "That accounts for it." They reached the top of the hill and started down. Savn said, "Accounts for what?" "The smell." "Smell?" "It must be flax oil." "Oh. Linseed oil. I guess I must be used to it." 'That must have been what they served the last place I ate, too, half a day east of here." "That would be Whiterock. I've been there twice." Vlad nodded. "I didn't really notice the taste in the stew, but it made the salad interesting." Savn thought he detected a hint of irony in the other's tone but he wasn't certain. "Some types of flax are used for cooking, some we use to make linen." "Linen?" "Yes." "You cook with the same stuff you make clothes out of?" "No, not the same. It's different." 'They probably made a mistake, then," said Vlad. "That would account for the salad." Savn glanced back at him, but still wasn't certain if he were joking. "It's easy to tell the difference," he said. "When you make the seedblocks and leave them in the coolhouse in barrels, the true, true salad flax will melt—" "Never mind," said Vlad. "I'm certain you can tell." A pair of jhereg flew from a tree and were lost in the woods before them. Savn wondered if they might be the same pair he had seen earlier. They came to the last hill before Tern's house. Savn said, "You never answered my question." "Question?" "Are you wandering to something, or away from something?" "It's been so long, I'm not certain anymore." "Oh. May I ask you something?" ATHYRA 11 "Certainly. I might not answer." "If you don't tell stories, what do you doT "You mean, everyone must do something?" "Well, yes." "I'm not too bad a hunter." "Oh." "And I have a few pieces of gold, which I show around when I have to." "You just show them around?" "That's right." "What does that do?" "Makes people want to take them away from me." "Well, yes, but—" "And when they try, I end up with whatever they're carrying, which is usually enough for my humble needs." Savn looked at him, again trying to decide if he were joking, but the Easterner's mouth was all but hidden beneath the black hair that grew above his lip. Savn tore his eyes away, lest he be thought rude. "That's it below, sir," he said, wondering if he ought to say "sir" to an Easterner. "Call me Vlad." "All right. I hope the house is to your liking." "I'm certain it will be fine," he said. "Spend a few weeks in the jungles and it's amazing how little it takes to feel like luxury. May I give you something?" Savn frowned, taken by a sudden suspicion he couldn't explain. "What do you mean?" "It is the custom of my people to give a gift to the first person we meet in a new land. It is supposed to bring luck. I don't know that I believe it, but I've taken to following the old customs anyway." "What—?" "Here." He reached into his pouch, found something, and held it out. "What is it?" said Savn. "A polished stone I picked up in my wanderings." Savn stared at it, torn between fear and excitement. "Is it magical?" 12 Steven Brust "It's just a stone." "Oh," said Savn. "It's a very nice green." "Yes. Please keep it." "Well, thank you," said Savn, still staring at it It had been polished until it gleamed. Savn wondered how one might polish a stone, and why one would bother. He took it and put it into his pocket. "Maybe I'll see you again." "Maybe you will," said Vlad, and entered the house. Savn wished he could go in with him, just to see the look on Tern's face when an Easterner walked through the door, but it was already dark and his family would be waiting for him, and Paener always got grumpy when he didn't get home to eat on time. As Savn walked home, which was more than another league, he wondered about the Easterner—what he was doing here, whence he had come, whither he would go, and whether he was telling the truth about how he lived. Savn had no trouble believing that he hunted—(although how could he find game? Easterners couldn't be sorcerers, could they?), but the other was curious, as well as exciting. Savn found himself doubting it, and by the time he reached the twinkling light visible through the oiled window of home, he had convinced himself that the Easterner had been making it up. At dinner that night Savn was silent and distracted, although neither Paener nor Maener noticed, being too tired to make small talk. His sister kept up a stream of chatter, and if she was aware of Savn's failure to contribute, she didn't say anything about it. The only time he was spoken to, when Mae asked him what he had learned that day from Master Wag, he just shrugged and muttered that he had been setting bones, after which his sister went off on another commentary about how stupid all the girls she knew were, and how annoying it was that she had to associate with them. After dinner he helped with some of the work—the little that could be done by Paener's feeble light-spell. There was wood to be broken up into kindling (Paener and Maener chopped the big stuff—they said Savn wasn't old ATHYRA D enough yet), there was clearing leftover feed from the kethna pens so scavengers wouldn't be attracted, and there was cleaning the tools for the next day's harvest. When he was finished, he went out behind the small barn, sat down on one of the cutting stumps, and listened to the copperdove sing her night song from somewhere behind him. The copperdove would be leaving soon, going south until spring, taking with her the sparrow and the whiteback, the redbird and the daythief. But for the first time, Savn wondered where they went, and what it was like there. It must be too hot for them in the summer, or they'd remain there, but other than that, what was it like? Did any people live there? If so, what were they like? Was there a Savn who watched the birds and wondered what happened when they flew back north? He had a sudden image of another Savn, a Savn naked to the waist and damp with sweat, staring back. / could just go, he thought. Not go back inside, not stop to get anything, just walk away. Find out where the copperdove goes, and who lives there, and what they're like. I could do it now. But he knew he wouldn't. He'd stay here, and— And what? He suddenly thought of the jhereg he'd seen on Tern's roof. The flying reptiles were scavengers, just as, in another sense, were those of the House of the Jhereg. Savn had seen many of the animals, but none of the nobles of that House. What would it be like to encounter one? Why am I suddenly thinking about these things? And, What is happening to me? There was a sudden vertigo, so that he almost sat down, but he was afraid to move, for the instant was as wonderful as it was terrifying. He didn't want to breathe, yet he was keenly aware of doing so, of the air moving in and out of his lungs, and even filling his whole body, which was impossible. And in front of him was a great road with brick walls and a sky that was horribly black. The road went on forever, and he knew that up ahead somewhere were branches that could lead anywhere. And looming over them was the face of 14 Steven Brust the Easterner he had just met, and somehow the Easterner was opening up some paths and closing others. His heart was filled with the joy of loss and the pain of opportunity. With some part of his consciousness, he knew what was happening; some had called it Touching the Gods, and there were supposed to be Athyra mystics who spent their lives in this state. He had heard of such experiences from friends, but had never more than half-believed them. "It's like you're touching the whole world at once," said Coral. "It's like you can see all around yourself, and inside everything," said someone he couldn't remember. And it was all of these things, but that was only a small part of it. What did it mean? Would it leave him changed? In what way? Who would he be when it was over? And then it was over; gone as quickly as it had come. Around him the copperdove still sang, and the cricket harmonized. He took deep breaths and closed his eyes, trying to burn the experience into his memory so he'd be able to taste it again. What would Mae and Pae say? And Coral? Polyi wouldn't believe him, but that didn't matter. It didn't matter if anyone believed him. In fact, he wouldn't tell them; he wouldn't even tell Master Wag. This was his own, and he'd keep it that way, because he understood one thing—he could leave if he wanted to. Although he'd never thought about it before, he understood it with every sense of his body; he had the choice of the life of a physicker in Smallcliff, or something unknown in the world outside. Which would he choose? And when? He sat and wondered. Presently, the chill of early autumn made him shiver, and he went back inside. Her name was Rocza, and sometimes she even answered to it. As she flew upward, broke through the overcast, and began to breathe again, the sky turned blue—a full, livid, dancing blue, spotted with white and grey, as on the ground below were spots of other colors, and to her there was little to choose among them. The dots above were ATHYRA 15 pushed about by the wind; those below by, no doubt, something much like the wind but perhaps more difficult to recognize. She was not pushed by the wind, and neither did it carry her; rather, she slipped around it, and through it. It is said that sailors never mock the sea, yet she mocked the winds. Her lover was calling to her from below, and it was that strange call, the call that in all the years she had never understood. It was not food, nor danger, nor mating, although it bore a similarity to all of these; it was another call entirely, a call that meant her lover wanted them to do something for the Provider. She didn't understand what bound her lover to the Provider, but bound he was, and he seemed to want it that way. It made no sense to her. But she responded, because he had called, and because he always responded when she called. The concept of fair play did not enter her brain, yet something very much akin whispered through her thoughts as she spun, held her breath, and sliced back through the overcast, sneering at an updraft and a swirl that she did not need. Her lover waited, and his eyes gleamed in that secret way. She saw the Provider before she scented him, but she wasn 't aware of seeing, hearing, or smelling her lover; she simply knew where he was, and so they matched, and descended, and cupped the air together to land near the short, stubby, soft neck of the Provider, and await his wishes, to which they would give full attention and at least some consideration. Chapter Two I will not many a serving man, I will not marry a serving man. All that work I could not stand. Hi-dee hi-dee ho-la! Step on out ... The next day was Endweek, which Savn spent at home, making soap and using it up, as he wryly put it to himself, but he took a certain satisfaction in seeing that the win-dowsill and the kitchen jars sparkled in the blaze of the open stove, and the cast-iron pump over the sink gave off its dull gleam. As he cleaned, his thoughts kept returning to the experience of the night before; yet the more he thought of it, the more it slipped away from him. Something had certainly happened. Why didn't he feel different? He gradually realized that he did—that, as he cleaned, he kept thinking, This may be one of the last times I do this. These thoughts both excited and frightened him, until he realized that he was becoming too distracted to do a good job, whereupon he did his best to put it entirely out of his mind and just concentrate on his work. By the time he was finished, the entire cold-cellar had new ratkill and bugkill spells on it, the newer meal in the larder had been shuffled to the back, the new preserves in their pots had been stacked beneath the old, and everything was ready for the storebought they'd be returning ATHYRA 17 with in the evening. His sister worked on the hearthroom, while Mae did the outside of the house and Pae cleaned the sleeping room and the loft. His work was done by the fourteenth hour of the morning, and everyone else's within half an hour thereafter, so that shortly before noon they had a quick lunch of maize-bread and yellow pepper soup, after which they hitched Gleena and Ticky up to the wagon and set off for town. They always made the necessary stops in the same order, generally spiraling in toward Tern's house where they would have the one bought meal of the week, along with ale for Mae, Pae, and, lately, Savn, and beetwater for Polyi while they listened to the farmers argue about whether the slight dry spell would mean lower yields and poorer crops, or would, in fact, tend to make the flax hardier in the long run. Those of Savn's age would join in, listen, and occasionally make jokes calculated to make them appear clever to their elders or to those their own age of the desired sex, except for those who were apprenticed to trade, who would sit by themselves in a corner exchanging stories of what their Masters had put them through that week. Savn had his friends among this group. The first two stops (the livery stable for the feed supplements, and the yarner for fresh bolts of linen) went as usual—they bought the feed supplements and didn't buy any linen, although Savn fingered a yarn-dyed pattern of sharply angled red and white lines against a dark green fabric, while Mae and Pae chatted with Threader about how His Lordship was staying in his manor house near Smallcliff, and Polyi looked bored. Savn knew without asking that the fabric would be too expensive to buy, and after a while they left, Mae complimenting Threader on the linen and saying they'd maybe buy something if His Lordship left them enough of the harvest. They skipped the ceramics shop, which they often did, though as usual they drove by; Savn wasn't sure if it was from habit or just to wave at Pots, and he never thought to ask. By the time they pulled away from Hider's place, where they got a piece of leather for Gleena's girth-strap, 18 Steven Brust which was wearing out, it was past the third hour after noon and they were in sight of both the dry goods store and Tern's house. There was a large crowd outside Tern's. Mae, who was driving, stopped the cart and frowned. "Should we see what it is?" "They seem to be gathered around a cart," said Pae. Mae stared for a moment longer, then clicked the team closer. 'There's Master Wag," said Polyi, glancing at Savn as if he would be able to provide an explanation. They got a little closer, finally stopping some twenty feet down the narrow street from the crowd and the cart. Savn and Polyi stood up and craned their necks. "It's a dead man," said Savn in an awed whisper. "He's right," said Pae. "Come along," said Mae. "We don't need to be here." "But, Mae—" said Polyi. "Hush now," said Pae. "Your mother is right. There's nothing we can do for the poor fellow, anyway." Polyi said, "Don't you want to know—" "We'll hear everything later, no doubt," said Mae. "More than we want to or need to, I'm sure. Now we need to pick up some nails." As they began to move, Master Wag's eyes fell on them like a lance. "Wait a moment, Mae," said Savn. "Master Wag—" "I see him," said his mother, frowning. "He wants you to go to him." She didn't sound happy. Savn, for his part, felt both excited and nervous to suddenly discover himself the center of attention of everyone gathered in the street, which seemed to be nearly everyone who lived nearby. Master Wag did not, however, leave him time to feel much of anything. His deeply lined face was even more grim than usual, and his protruding jaw was clenching at regular intervals, which Savn had learned meant that he was concentrating. The Master said, "It is time you ATHYRA 19 learned how to examine the remains of a dead man. Come along." Savn swallowed and followed him to the horse-cart, with a roan gelding still standing patiently nearby, as if unaware that anything was wrong. On the wagon's bed was a body, on its back as if lying down to take a rest, head toward the back. The knees were bent quite naturally, both palms were open and facing up, the head— "I know him!" said Savn. "It's Reins!" Master Wag grunted as if to say, "I know that already." Then he said, "Among the sadder duties which befall us is the necessity to determine how someone came to die. We must discover this to learn, first, if he died by some disease that could be spread to others, and second, if he was killed by some person or animal against whom we must alert the people. Now, tell me what you see." Before Savn could answer, however, the Master turned to the crowd and said, "Stand back, all of you! We have work to do here. Either go about your business, or stay well back. We'll tell you what we find." One of the more interesting things about Master Wag was how his grating manner would instantly transform when he was in the presence of a patient. The corpse evidently did not qualify as a patient, however, and the Master scowled at those assembled around the wagon until they had all backed off several feet. Savn took a deep breath, proud that Master Wag had said, "We," and he had to fight down the urge to rub his hands together as if it were actually he who had "work to do." He hoped Firi was watching. "Now, Savn," said the Master. 'Tell me what you see." "Well, I see Reins. I mean, his body." "You aren't looking at him. Try again." Savn became conscious once more that he was being watched, and he tried to ignore the feeling, with some success. He looked carefully at the way the hands lay, palms up, and the position of the feet and legs, sticking out at funny angles. No one would lie down like that on purpose. Both knees were slightly bent, and— 20 Steven Brust ATHYRA 21 "You aren't looking at his face," said Master Wag. Savn gulped. He hadn't wanted to look at the face. The Master continued, "Look at the face first, always. What do you see?" Savn made himself look. The eyes were lightly closed, and the mouth was set in a straight line. He said, "It just looks like Reins, Master." "And what does that tell you?" Savn tried to think, and at last he ventured, "That he died in his sleep?" The Master grunted. "No, but that was a better guess than many you could have made. We don't know yet that he died in his sleep, although that is possible, but we know two important things. One is that he was not surprised by death, or else that he was so surprised he had no time to register shock, and, two, that he did not die in pain." "Oh. Yes, I see." "Good. What else?" Savn looked again, and said, hesitantly, "There is blood by the back of his head." "How much?" "Very little." "And how much do head wounds bleed?" "A lot." "So, what can you tell?" "Uh, I don't know." "Think! When will a head wound fail to bleed?" "When ... oh. He was dead before he hurt his head?" "Exactly. Very good. And do you see blood anywhere else?" "Ummm ... no." "Therefore?" "He died, then fell backward, cutting open his head on the bottom of the cart, so very little blood escaped." The Master grunted. "Not bad, but not quite right, either. Look at the bottom of the cart. Touch it." Savn did so. "Well?" "It's wood." "What kind of wood?" Savn studied it and felt stupid. "I can't tell, Master. A fir tree of some kind." "Is it hard or soft?" "Oh, it's very soft." "Therefore he must have struck it quite hard in order to cut his head open, yes?" "Oh, that's true. But how?" "How indeed? I have been informed that the horse came into town at a walk, with the body exactly as you see it. One explanation that would account for the facts would be if he were driving along, and he died suddenly, and, at the same time or shortly thereafter, the horse was startled, throwing the already dead body into the back, where it would fall just as you see it, and with enough force to break the skin over the skull, and perhaps the skull as well. If that were the case, what would you expect to see?" Savn was actually beginning to enjoy this—to see it as a puzzle, rather than as the body of someone he had once known. He said, "A depression in the skull, and a matching one on the cart beneath his head." "He would have had to hit very hard indeed to make a depression in the wood. But, yes, there should be one on the back of his head. And what else?" "What else?" "Yes. Think. Picture the scene as it may have happened." Savn felt his eyes widen. "Oh!" He looked at the horse. "Yes," he said. "He has run hard." "Excellent!" said the Master, smiling for the first time. "Now we can use our knowledge of Reins. What did he do?" "Well, he used to be a driver, but since he left town I don't know." "That is sufficient. Would Reins ever have driven a horse into a sweat?" "Oh, no! Not unless he was desperate." "Correct. So either he was in some great trouble, or he was not driving the horse. You will note that this fits well with our theory that death came to him suddenly and also 22 Steven Brust ATHYRA 23 frightened the horse. Now, there is not enough evidence to conclude that we are correct, but it is worthwhile to make our version a tentative assumption while we look for more information." "I understand, Master." "I see that you do. Excellent. Now touch the body." "Touch it?" "Yes." "Master ..." "Do it!" Savn swallowed, reached out and laid his hand lightly on the arm nearest him, then drew back. Master Wag snorted. "Touch the skin." He touched Reins's hand with his forefinger, then pulled away as if burned. "It's cold!" he said. "Yes, bodies cool when dead. It would have been remarkable if it were not cold." "But then—" "Touch it again." Savn did so. It was easier the second time. He said, "It is very hard." "Yes. This condition lasts several hours, then gradually fades away. In this heat we may say that he has been dead at least four or five hours, yet not more than half a day, unless he died from the Cold Fever, which would leave him in such a condition for much longer. If that had been the cause of death, however, his features would exhibit signs of the discomfort he felt before his death. Now, let us move him." "Move him? How?" "Let's see his back." "All right." Savn found that bile rose in his throat as he took a grip on the body and turned it over. "As we suspected," said the Master. "There is the small bloodstain on the wood, and no depression, and you see the blood on the back of his head." "Yes, Master." "The next step is to bring him back home, where we may examine him thoroughly. We must look for marks and abrasions on his body; we must test for sorcery, we must look at the contents of his stomach, his bowels, his kidneys, and his bladder; and test for diseases and poisons; and—" He stopped, looking at Savn closely, then smiled. "Never mind," he said. "I see that your Maener and Paener are still waiting for you. This will be sufficient for a lesson; we will give you some time to become used to the idea before it comes up again." 'Thank you, Master." "Go on, go on. Tomorrow I will tell you what I learned. Or, rather, how I learned it. You will hear everything there is to hear tonight, no doubt, when you return to Tern's house, because the gossips will be full of the news. Oh, and clean your hands carefully and fully with dirt, and then water, for you have touched death, and death calls to his own." This last remark was enough to bring back all the revulsion that Savn had first felt when laying hands on the corpse. He went down in the road and wiped his hands thoroughly and completely, including his forearms, and then went into Tern's house and begged water to wash them with. When he emerged, he made his way slowly through the crowd that still stood around the wagon, but he was no longer the object of attention. He noticed Speaker standing a little bit away, frowning, and not far away was Lova, who Savn knew was Fin's friend, but he didn't see Fin. He returned to his own wagon while behind him Master Wag called for someone to drive him and the body back to his home. "What is it?" asked Polyi as he climbed up next to her, among the supplies. "I mean, I know it's a body, but—" "Hush," said Maener, and shook the reins. Savn didn't say anything; he just watched the scene until they went around a corner and it was lost to sight. Polyi kept pestering him in spite of sharp words from Mae and Pae until they threatened to stop the wagon and thrash her, after which she went into a sulk. "Never mind," said Pae. "We'll find out all about it 24 Steven Brust ATHYRA 25 soon enough, I'm sure, and you shouldn't ask your brother to talk about his art." Polyi didn't answer. Savn, for his part, understood her curiosity; he was wondering himself what Master Wag would discover, and it annoyed him that everyone in town would probably know before he did. The rest of the errands took nearly four hours, during which time they learned nothing new, but were told several times that "Reins's body come into town from Wayfield." By the time the errands were over, Savn and Polyi were not only going mad with curiosity, but were certain they were dying of hunger as well. The cart had vanished from the street, but judging by the wagons in front and the loud voices from within, everyone for miles . in any direction had heard that Reins had been brought into town, dead, and they were all curious about it, and had accordingly come to Tern's house to talk, listen, speculate, eat, drink, or engage in all of these at once. The divisions were there, as always: most of the people were grouped in families, taking up the front half of the room, and beyond them were some of the apprenticed girls, and the apprenticed boys, and the old people were along the back. The only difference was that Savn had rarely, if ever, seen the place so full, even when Avin the Bard had come through. They would have found no place to sit had they not been seen at once by Haysmith, whose youngest daughter Pae had saved from wolves during the flood-year a generation ago. The two men never mentioned the incident because it would have been embarrassing to them both, but Haysmith was always looking out for Pae in order to perform small services for him. In this case, he caused a general shuffling on one of the benches, and room was made for Mae, Pae, and Polyi, where it looked as if there was no room to be found. Savn stayed with them long enough to be included in the meal that Mae, with help from Haysmith's powerful lungs, ordered from Tern. Pae and Haysmith were speculating on whether some new disease had shown up, which launched them into a conversation about an epidemic that had cost a neighbor a son and a daughter many years before Savn had been born. When the food arrived, Savn took his ale, salad, and bread, and slipped away. Across the room, he found his friend Coral, who was apprenticed to Master Wicker. Coral managed to make room for one more, and Savn sat down. "I wondered when you'd arrive," said Coral. "Have you heard?" "I haven't heard what Master Wag said about how he died." "But you know who it was?" "I was there while the Master was; he made it a lesson." Savn swallowed the saliva that had suddenly built up in his mouth. "It was Reins," he said, "who used to make deliveries from the Sharehouse." "Right." "I know he left town years ago, but I don't know where he went." "He just went away somewhere. He came into some money or something." "Oh, did he? I hadn't heard that." "Well, it doesn't do him any good now." "I guess not. What killed him?" Coral shrugged. "No one knows. There wasn't a mark on him, they say." "And the Master doesn't know, either? He was just going to look over the body when I had to go." "No, he came in an hour ago and spoke with Tem, said he was as confused as anyone." "Is he still here?" asked Savn, looking around. "No, I guess he left right away. I didn't see him myself; I just got here a few minutes ago." "Oh. Well, what about the b—what about Reins?" "They've already taken him to the firepit," said Coral. "Oh. I never heard who found him." "From what I hear, no one; he was lying dead in the back of the cart, and the horse was just pulling the cart along the road all by itself, with no one driving at all." Savn nodded. "And it stopped here?" 26 Steven Brust ATHYRA 27 "I don't know if it stopped by itself or if Master Tem saw it coming down the road, or what." "I wonder how he died," said Savn softly. "I wonder if we'll ever know." "I don't know. But I'll tell you one thing—I'll give you clippings for candles that it isn't an accident that that Easterner with a sword walks into town the day before Reins shows up dead." Savn stared. "Easterner?" "What, you don't know about him?" In fact, the appearance of the body had driven the strange wanderer right out of Savn's mind. He stuttered and said, "I guess I know who you mean." "Well, there you are, then." "You think the Easterner killed him?" "I don't know if he killed him, but my Pae said he came from the east, and that's the same way Reins came from." "He came from—" Savn stopped; he was about to say that he came from the south, but he changed his mind and said, "Of course he came from the east; he's an Easterner." "Still—" "What else do you know about him?" "Precious little," said Coral. "Have you seen him?" Savn hesitated, then said, "I've heard a few things." Coral frowned at him, as if he'd noticed the hesitation, then said, "They say he came on a horse." "A horse? I didn't see a horse. Or hear about one." "That's what I heard. Maybe he hid it." "Where would you hide a horse?" "In the woods." "Well, but why would you hide a horse?" "How should I know. He's an Easterner; who knows how he thinks?" "Well, just because he has a horse doesn't mean he had anything to do with—" "What about the sword?" "That's true, he does have a sword." "There, you see?" "But if Reins was stabbed to death, Master Wag would have seen. So would I, for that matter. There wasn't any blood at all, except a little where his head hit the bed of the wagon, and that didn't happen until he was already dead." "You can't know that." "Master Wag can tell." Coral looked doubtful. "And there was no wound, anyway," repeated Savn. "Well, okay, so he didn't kill him with the sword. Doesn't it mean anything that he carries one?" "Well, maybe, but if you're traveling, you'd want to—" "And, like I said, he did come from the east, and that's what everyone is saying." "Everyone is saying that the Easterner killed him?" "Well, do you think it's a coincidence?" "I don't know," said Savn. "Heh. If it is, I'll—" Savn didn't find out what Coral was prepared to do in case of a coincidence, because he broke off in mid-sentence, staring over Savn's shoulder toward the door. Savn turned, and at that moment all conversation in the room abruptly stopped. Standing in the doorway was the Easterner, apparently quite at ease, wrapped in a cloak that was as grey as death. ATHYRA 29 Chapter Three I will not marry a loudmouth Speaker, I will not marry a loudmouth Speaker, He'd get haughty and I'd get meeker. Hi-dee hi-dee ho-la! Step on out ... He stared insolently back at the room, his expression impossible to read, save that it seemed to Savn that there was perhaps a smile hidden by the black hair that grew above his lip and curled down around the corners of his mouth. After giving the room one long, thorough look, he stepped fully inside and slowly came up to the counter until he was facing Tern. He spoke in a voice that was not loud, yet carried very well. He said, "Do you have anything to drink here that doesn't taste like linseed oil?" Tern looked at him, started to scowl, shifted nervously and glanced around the room. He cleared his throat, but didn't speak. "I take it that means no?" said Vlad. Someone near Savn whispered, very softly, "They should send for His Lordship." Savn wondered who "they" were. Vlad leaned against the serving counter and folded his arms; Savn wondered if he were signaling a lack of hostility, or if the gesture meant something entirely different among Easterners. Vlad turned his head so that he was looking at Tern, and said, "Not far south of here is a cliff, overlooking a river. There were quite a few people at the river, bathing, swimming, washing clothes." Tem clenched his jaw, then said, "What about it?" "Nothing, really," said Vlad. "But if that's Smallcliff, it's pretty big." "Smallcliff is to the north," said Tem. "We live below Smallcliff." "Well, that would explain it, then," said Vlad. "But it is really a very pleasant view; one can see for miles. May I please have some water?" Tem looked around at the forty or fifty people gathered in the house, and Savn wondered if he were waiting for someone to tell him what to do. At last he got a cup and poured fresh water into it from the jug below the counter. "Thank you," said Vlad, and took a long draught. "What are you doing here?" said Tem. "Drinking water. If you want to know why, it's because everything else tastes like linseed oil." He drank again, then wiped his mouth on the back of his hand. Someone muttered something about, "If he doesn't like it here ..." and someone else said something about "haughty as a lord-Tern cleared his throat and opened his mouth, shut it again, then looked once more at his guests. Vlad, apparently oblivious to all of this, said, "While I was up there, I saw a corpse being brought along the road in a wagon. They came to a large, smoking hole in the ground, and people put the body into the hole and burned it. It seemed to be some kind of ceremony." It seemed to Savn that everyone in the room somehow contrived to simultaneously gasp and fall silent. Tem scowled, and said, "What business is that of yours?" "I got a good look at the body. The poor fellow looked familiar, though I'm not certain why." Someone, evidently one of those who had brought Reins to the firepit, muttered, "I didn't see you there." Vlad turned to him, smiled, and said, "Thank you very much." Savn wanted to smile himself, but concealed his expres- 30 Steven Brust ATHYRA 31 sion behind his hand when he saw that no one else seemed to think it was funny. Tem said, "You knew him, did you?" "I believe so. How did he happen to become dead?" Tem leaned over the counter and said, "Maybe you could tell us." Vlad looked at the Housemaster long and hard, then at the guests once more, and then suddenly he laughed, and Savn let out his breath, which he had been unaware of holding. "So that's it," said Vlad. "I wondered why everyone was looking at me like I'd come walking into town with the three-day fever. You think I killed the fellow, and then just sort of decided to stay here and see what everyone said about it, and then maybe bring up the subject in case anyone missed it." He laughed again. "I don't really mind you thinking I'd murder someone, but I am not entirely pleased with what you seem to think of my intelligence. "But, all right, what's the plan, my friends? Are you going to stone me to death? Beat me to death? Call your Baron to send in his soldiers?" He shook his head slowly. "What a peck of fools." "Now, look," said Tem, whose face had become rather red. "No one said you did it; we're just wondering if you know—" "I don't know," the Easterner said. Then added, "Yet." "But you're going to?" said Tem. "Very likely," he said. "I will, in any case, look into the xoattex " Tim /oo&e