"Come on, then," one of the men called. "Into the light with you. Let us see who's come."rode to the edge of their circle, dismounted, and walked into the firelight.started to say something, but the man cut him off.
"Not a word!" he said. "I don't want to hear your accent. I can tell your clan just from the look of you." The stranger was tall and thin, with long limbs that gave him the look of a child's puppet. His white hair was cut short, and he had a pale, wispy beard that made his face look even longer than it was. His face was lined, and Grinsa had the sense that he was old for a Qirsi, though his bright yellow eyes were clear and his smile revealed straight, strong teeth.
"Give up already, R'Shev," a woman shouted at him, laughing. "You haven't gotten one right in two turns."man spun toward her, looking aggrieved. "That's not true." He pointed at a woman with long white hair and intricate markings around her eye that were similar to those Grinsa and Cresenne had seen on the peddler in Greysford. "I knew G'Trayna here was J'Balanar the moment I saw her."laughed uproariously, and the man turned back to them, narrowing his eyes as he looked first at Grinsa and then at Cresenne.
"Difficult," he said. "Very difficult. Your clothing is odd. The mounts could be those of the Fal'Borna, but your skin is too pale." He stared at them a moment longer before nodding once. "You're H'Bel, aren't you?"smiled. "I'm afraid not."
"Must be A'Vahl then. Had to be one or the other. I thought Talm'Orast for a moment, but neither of you is fat. All the Talm'Orast have gotten fat."others laughed at this as well, though Grinsa had no idea why.
"No, I'm afraid we're not A'Vahl either." The man opened his mouth to speak again, so Grinsa held up a hand to forestall another guess. "Actually, we're not from this land at all. We're Forelanders, and we've only recently arrived here."was met with stares and silence, and for a moment Grinsa feared that he and his family would be as unwelcome among these Qirsi peddlers as they had been among the Eandi. But a moment later, R'Shev grinned.
"Well, wherever you're from, you're here now. Come and sit. You look cold and hungry."
"We are that," Grinsa said, smiling in return. "Though we have our own food."
"All the better then!"people shifted their positions, making room near the fire for the three of them. A skin of wine somehow found its way into Grinsa's hands and after only a moment's hesitation he drank a bit and handed it to Cresenne.
"So, what are your names?" R'Shev asked.
"I'm Grinsa jal Arriet, and this is Cresenne ja Terba."
"And the little one?"
"Bryntelle ja Grinsa."
"She's a beauty," R'Shev said. "Just like her mother." He winked at Cresenne, drawing a smile.
"You'll have to forgive R'Shev," said the J'Balanar woman. She looked to be older as well, the lines around her eyes blending with her markings to make her look like some strange demon in the firelight. She wore a smile, however, and her eyes flicked toward R'Shev as she spoke. "He sometimes forgets how old he is, and he starts to act like a rutting drel."others laughed.
"Unfair!" R'Shev said, shaking his head. "Unfair! Even a rutting drel tends to stay with only one ewe. I have no such scruples."laughter.
"Well, allow me to introduce this rabble," R'Shev said. He went around the circle, pointing at each person in turn, and saying their names and clans far too quickly for Grinsa to keep any of them in his mind. Turning back to Grinsa and seeing the frown on his face, the man waved his hand, as if dismissing all he'd just said. "Don't worry about it. You'll learn them eventually. Or you won't, and no one will hold it against you." He regarded the two of them briefly, his eyes narrowing. "What brings you to our circle?"shrugged. "We tried to find a place in the Eandi village back along the wash. I don't even know what it's called. The inn was the Thistle Patch. In any case, the barkeep refused to let us stay there, so we rode on, and happened upon you."'Shev nodded slowly. "Actually, I meant 'What brings you to the Southlands,' but we'll start with the village. It's called Bred's Landing, and I'm afraid it's all too typical of Eandi villages in Stelpana. I take it things are quite different in the Forelands."had to smile. "Yes," he said. "Very different. Qirsi and Eandi don't keep themselves separate the way they do here. They live side by side in villages and cities. Eandi nobles are served by Qirsi ministers."
"But you've had trouble with that," said the man with the lute, looking over at them even as he continued to pluck at the strings of his instrument. "Forgive me for interrupting, but we know you have. We heard about it down here."
"Yes," Grinsa admitted, his eyes flicking toward Cresenne. "We had some trouble, but that's over now."
"And yet you're here," R'Shev said, drawing Grinsa's gaze once more. "You left the Forelands. Why?"
"That's a long, difficult tale," Grinsa said.had been chatting with G'Trayna, while the older woman held Bryntelle on her lap. But she was looking at Grinsa now, appearing pale and wary. R'Shev seemed to notice her expression, because he smiled and patted Grinsa lightly on the shoulder.
"Perhaps it's best saved for another time, then," he said. "You should eat something." He handed Grinsa the wineskin, which had made its way around the circle to them once more. "And have some more of this."
"Thank you, R'Shev."started to pull food from his travel sack, but the man put his hand on Grinsa's arm, stopping him.
"Have something warm. I get the feeling you've got some distance yet to go, and that food needs to last. We've plenty here."
"Again, my thanks."
"Where are you headed?"
"Not north, I hope," said the man with the lute.
"If you want to join our conversation, D'Chul, I'd suggest you move over here. At least that way I'll know you're listening, and I won't say anything unkind about the way you play that lute of yours."'Chul grinned, looking ghoulish in the dim light, and made his way over to where they were sitting. He was a younger man, also thin, though not as tall as R'Shev. He wore his hair long, and tied back from his face, which was round and so fine-featured as to look feminine.he sat, Grinsa noticed that his lute was as beautiful as any instrument of its kind he'd ever seen. Its neck was inlaid with pale woods, and its rounded back was so finely smoothed that it shone in the firelight.
"Your lute is magnificent," Grinsa said.
"Thank you," D'Chul said, grinning again. "I made it."
"You made it?"
"D'Chul is M'Saaren," R'Shev said, as if that explained the man's obvious talent. "Woodland people. Their woodwork is the finest in the land."
"The A'Vahl would argue," said the younger man.
"Of course they would. And as usual, they'd be wrong." R'Shev glanced at Grinsa. "I'm glad you didn't turn out to be A'Vahl. As a rule, I can't stand them. Arrogant. Not nearly as skilled as they think they are. Or as smart."
"You said you hoped we weren't headed north," Grinsa said to the young man. "Why?"
"There's talk of the pestilence to the north." He cocked his head to the side. "You have the pestilence up in the Forelands?"nodded. His blood had run cold at the mention of it, fear for Cresenne and Bryntelle making him shudder. He'd lost Pheba, his first wife, to the pestilence. She was Eandi, and she might have survived, if only the other Qirsi in their village had been willing to heal her. But she was the Eandi wife of a Qirsi man, and the healers, seeing their marriage as an abomination, had let her die. He didn't mention this to the men sitting with him, but it did make him wonder if he'd been too quick to point out the differences between the Forelands and Southlands. Perhaps they weren't so dissimilar after all.
"I'd hoped we wouldn't have to worry about that here," Cresenne said quietly, staring at the fire.reached out and took Cresenne's hand. Her fingers were icy. "We'll be all right. We're headed south anyway. And both of us have healing magic, if it comes to that."
"You're trying to get across the Silverwater," R'Shev said. "Into Qirsi land."
"That's what we had in mind."
"That's a wise course. The Fal'Borna are hard as clans go, harder than most. But you'll be a good deal safer there than in Eandi land. And," the older man added, smiling kindly at Cresenne, "you'll be far from where the pestilence has struck."
"What about all of you?" Grinsa asked. "Where are you going next?"
"Oh, different places. Each of us goes his own way. I tend to move back and forth between the Silverwater and Ravens Wash, visiting the towns along both. I'll probably be in Bred's Landing tomorrow. I'm heading north, as it happens, though with the pestilence up that way, I'll turn back well before I get near the Companion Lakes. Others here are going in the opposite direction. At least a few of us find each other most nights. Sometimes we're only three or four. Other times we number as many as thirty."
"It sounds like a nice life," Cresenne said.
"We're Qirsi peddlers trading in Eandi lands. It's the only way to stay sane."wine came around again, and D'Chul began to play and sing. His voice was only ordinary, but he played wonderfully and the others sang along. Grinsa and Cresenne didn't know any of the songs, but they were happy just to listen. Bryntelle, who should have been asleep hours before, was wide awake, and seemed delighted by the music and laughter., people began to wander off to sleep. Many of them had small beds in their carts, and others had fashioned crude shelters from cloth and rope and wood. R'Shev told Grinsa and Cresenne that they could place their sleeping rolls under the tarpaulins by the fire, and after some time, Cresenne did.stayed up a while longer, speaking in low tones with R'Shev, learning what he could about the various clans, and the Eandi villages that lay between Bred's Landing and Fal'Borna land.a time, they fell silent. But just when Grinsa was ready to bid the man good night, R'Shev surprised him.
"You're a Weaver, aren't you, Grinsa?"Eandi guard he and Cresenne encountered in Yorl had divined this as well, so Grinsa wasn't completely unprepared. He did wonder, though, why the man was asking.
"I am."
"Is Cresenne?"guard had asked this, too.
"No, she's not. Why?"
"Forgive me," he said. "I don't mean to pry, but are the two of you joined, formally I mean?"
"As it happens, we're not." There hadn't really been time for a formal joining ceremony before they left the Forelands, and in truth, neither of them had seen a need for one. In all ways that mattered, they were husband and wife, their lives bound together not only by their love, but also by Bryntelle. In the Forelands, at least, formal joinings were usually reserved for nobility. But maybe that wasn't the case here. "What is it you're getting at, R'Shev?"man rubbed a hand over his narrow face. "It may not come to much. It will depend on which clan you settle with. But among some, Weavers are expected to marry other Weavers. It's a way of ensuring that more Weavers are born, and to some clans that's very important. There haven't been many wars fought among the clans in the last hundred years, but some of the rivalries remain, and, rightly or wrongly, Weavers are equated with power. The more a clan has, the better their prospects in battle with other Qirsi. And if ever the Blood Wars start up again, a clan with many Weavers will have the best chance of taking Eandi land. That's the thinking anyway."
"But I don't belong to any clan."'Shev smiled, though if anything, it made him look sad. "The clan you settle with may well see it differently." His brow furrowed. "Perhaps I shouldn't have said anything. I hope I'm wrong. I hope it doesn't matter at all. But you should be prepared, just in case it does."
"Yes, of course," Grinsa said absently.
"I've troubled you."met the man's gaze. "As you said, I should be prepared."'Shev nodded. Standing, he stretched his back and began to walk off. "Good night, Grinsa."
"Good night, R'Shev. Thank you for everything. This could have been a miserable night for us. Instead it was the best we've had in the Southlands."
"I'm glad."man walked off, leaving Grinsa to brood on what the peddler had told him. After some time, he untied his sleeping roll, placed it beside Cresenne, and lay down. She stirred. He kissed her lightly on the lips and she smiled.
"What were you and R'Shev talking about?" she asked sleepily.hesitated, but only briefly. "Nothing we need to worry about right now," he said. He kissed her again. "You should sleep."12the time they awoke the next morning the rain had eased, but clouds still hung low over the plain, and the air remained chill. The peddlers rose early, some of them with first light, and in mere moments had taken down the tarpaulins and packed up their carts. R'Shev apologized to Grinsa and Cresenne for waking them and taking down the shelter he'd built around the fire ring, but he, too, worked quickly and efficiently. Grinsa offered to help, but the peddler shook his head and smiled.
"I've done this just about every morning for the past fourteen years. I'm better off working alone."to his word, the man had his cloths and poles packed away in no time at all and soon was bidding them farewell.
"I wish I was headed west," he said, taking Cresenne's hand in his own and looking from her to Grinsa. "And not only because I enjoy the company of a lovely woman."smiled, though she was surprised by how sad she felt to have to leave the old peddler. She and Grinsa had known him and the other peddlers for less than a day, but already they were their friends, the only ones they had in the Southlands.
"Thank you for everything," she said, stepping forward and kissing his cheek.
"Well, I don't think I did anything at all. But I'd gladly do nothing again if it earned me another kiss."grinned.glanced at Bryntelle, who was still asleep in Cresenne's arms. "Take care of the little one," he said. "You have enough food? I can sell you some if need be. At cost," he added.of the older women was walking by as he said this, and she paused. "Take him up on it, just for our sake. We've never seen the old goat sell anything at cost."
"Get away, nag!" he said, shooing her away as she laughed.
"I think we have enough," Grinsa said. "Thank you, though."'Shev's expression sobered. "Be certain. The Eandi of Stelpana grow more hostile to our kind as one moves west. There are some villages near the wash that even I won't venture into."and Cresenne exchanged a look, and after a moment she nodded.
"All right," Grinsa said. "It probably can't hurt to have a bit extra." R'Shev nodded. "That's right."bought more cheese and smoked meat from the man, and paid far less than they would have in any marketplace. After that, there was nothing to do but bid him farewell.
"I hope we meet again," Cresenne told him, knowing of course that they wouldn't.
"That's kind of you, my dear, but I hope we don't. My life's on these plains, and this is no place for a family like yours."climbed onto his cart, clicked his tongue at his old horse, and started rattling eastward toward Bred's Landing.and Cresenne were soon ready to continue on their way as well. As it happened, D'Chul, the young lutenist, was also headed west toward Silverwater Wash. Cresenne was delighted to ride in the company of another Qirsi, and she expected that Grinsa would be as well. But for the first several hours of the day, he said little, and he appeared to be occupied with dark thoughts. He rode with his shoulders hunched, his eyes trained on the ground before him, his brow creased so that he seemed to be scowling. Cresenne wondered if he was brooding on something he'd heard the night before, or if he was concerned about what they would do if the skies opened up again, or if he simply didn't like D'Chul.one point during the morning, Cresenne steered her mount next to his and reached out to take his hand. His face brightened immediately and he smiled at her.
"Are you all right?" she asked quietly.
"Yes, of course."
"You seem troubled."shook his head. "Really, I'm fine."had nodded, taking him at his word. And why shouldn't she? Usually he kept nothing from her. But when she looked at him again only a few moments later, he looked just as he had before: tense, even apprehensive, which was not like him at all. She knew how strong he was, though, and she trusted that no matter what it was that had him worried, he'd find a way to overcome it.her part, she hadn't been this happy since the day they left the Forelands, more than two turns before. She liked D'Chul and she enjoyed hearing him speak of the clans and of life on the plain. He'd been born in a small settlement in the Berylline Forest along the western bank of the A'Vahl River. Listening to him speak of his home, Cresenne had to remind herself again and again that all of his neighbors, all the people who lived with him in the village, were Qirsi. She knew this to be true-she'd been in the Southlands long enough to understand that this was not at all unusual in the western half of the land-but every time she pictured the marketplace he described, or the sanctuary where he worshiped, or any other part of the village, she pictured Eandi faces as well as Qirsi, indeed, more of the former than the latter. She couldn't help herself., at the same time, she thrilled to the thought that this was the world in which she would soon find herself. In just a few more days, she and Grinsa would cross into Qirsi land and, she hoped, quickly find a settlement in which to build a new life. Bryntelle, awake now, her eyes wide as she watched D'Chul, would grow up thinking it normal to live among only Qirsi, without the hostility and mistrust of the Eandi. No doubt she would take such a life for granted. Cresenne could think of no greater gift for her child., she had Eandi friends, though not many of them. Once, when she had allied herself with Dusaan jal Kania, the Weaver who had sought to overthrow the Eandi courts in the Forelands and create a new Qirsi empire, she had believed that she hated all Eandi. She knew now that she didn't. Some among Ean's children had been kind to her in the days leading up to the Weaver's war, kinder than she'd had any right to ask or expect, given her role in the Qirsi conspiracy. But she had to admit that she longed to live the rest of her days free from prejudice and the constant tension that seemed to pervade the cities of the Forelands. And though she would have had trouble admitting as much to Grinsa, who counted an Eandi noble among his closest friends and who once even loved anwoman, she believed that the only way to find such peace was to live apart from all Eandi.'Chul proved to be a fine companion for such a grey day. After he'd talked about his home for some time, he began to sing for them, or more precisely for Bryntelle, who laughed and squealed each time he began a new song. Eventually, the young man's singing even drew Grinsa out of his dark mood. As was the case with the songs he had played the night before, Cresenne didn't know any of the ones he sang. They sounded like children's songs, and she had the sense that they would have been as familiar to a Qirsi child in the Southlands as "Four Tired Lambs" or "Moons and Stars" had been to her when she was a girl.song in particular delighted Bryntelle and caught Cresenne's ear, though probably not for the same reason. She couldn't follow the verses, which made little sense, but after a few rounds, she was able to piece together the refrain:Dark-Eye, Little Dark-Eye, away back home;Dark-Eye, Little Dark-Eye, 'not your land to roam;Dark-Eye, Little Dark-Eye, away and hide;Dark-Eye, Little Dark-Eye, one's on your side.seemed that Grinsa also was struck by the lyric. When D'Chul finished singing, he asked, "What was that one called?"
" 'Little Dark-Eye,' " the man answered, grinning. "It's a grim song, eh?"
"I couldn't make out most of it," Grinsa said.
"That's because most of ifs been changed. It was a Qirsi war song; dates back to the first of the Blood Wars. You can probably guess what it's about."
"The last line of the refrain was changed, too, wasn't it?" D'Chul looked at Cresenne. "You could tell that, could you?"nodded.
"It was originally 'All your friends have died,' but that was changed long ago. Better for the little ones this way."
"How did you know?" Grinsa asked her, smiling slightly, but also looking annoyed, as if angry with himself for not figuring this out as well.shrugged. "It just didn't sound right. 'Died' is the natural rhyme there."
"You've got an ear for music," D'Chul said.laughed at that. She was just about the least musical person she knew. She couldn't even sing in tune. "No," she said. "I think I just have a dark humor."
"There's no escaping it, is there?" Grinsa asked, still looking troubled, his voice grim.'Chul frowned. "What do you mean?"
"This feud between Eandi and Qirsi. The Blood Wars. These songs you sing. The Eandi villages that won't give a room to Qirsi travelers. It's everywhere."feared that the lutenist might take offense, but instead, he regarded Grinsa for several moments and then began to nod slowly.
"It must seem that way to you," he said. "I don't think we give much thought to how our land might be perceived by strangers." He seemed to consider this for several moments. At last he nodded again. "Yes, I guess it is everywhere. The wars have been over for some time now, but the fighting didn't end because we suddenly stopped hating one another. I'm not sure people can do that."
"Then why did the wars end?"shook his head. "Neither side had the stomach for them anymore. The clans decided that the wars were costing too many lives, even as they continued to take land from the dark-eyes. Already there are more Eandi in the Southlands than there are Qirsi. Not by a lot-not the way we hear Qirsi are outnumbered in the Forelands. But enough to scare our leaders. And the Eandi sovereignties made no effort to continue the fighting. Every time a war was fought they lost land. It's not really surprising that they'd welcome a truce."
"So the two sides never really forged a peace," Grinsa said. "They just stopped killing each other."'Chul raised an eyebrow. "I suppose that's one way of putting it. I don't think there's much danger of the wars starting up again, if that's what concerns you."
"No," Grinsa said. "It's not that." "Then what?" Cresenne asked.looked at her, their eyes meeting. "I don't know, really. I just find it all… unsettling."should have understood. In a way she did, though only vaguely. But mostly, Cresenne felt herself growing impatient with him. Of courseSouthlands weren't perfect. What place was? Everyone they'd talked to had said the same thing: The wars had been over for more than a century. The various realms of the Forelands had battled one another as recently as that, and he wouldn't have thought anything of living there, had that been a choice.appeared to read the annoyance in her glance, because he forced a smile and shook his head.
"I'm just being foolish," he said. "I suppose it'll take me some time to grow accustomed to this place." He turned to D'Chul. "Forgive me."young man shrugged and grinned again. "There's nothing to forgive."thought he was being more generous than she would have been.rode with D'Chul for the rest of that day and for two more before finally coming within sight of the Silverwater Wash. By the third morning, the skies had cleared, though the air remained cold.
"This feels like the Harvest," D'Chul said as they rode that third day, turning his face up to the sky and closing his eyes, as if savoring the touch of the sun on his ghostly skin. "I expect we've seen the last of the warmer days until next year's Planting.", lacy clouds drifted above them, pure white against the deep blue sky, reminding Cresenne of Harvest days in the Forelands. Some things, it seemed, were the same everywhere.that day, D'Chul guided them to a shallow part of the river where they were able to cross into Qirsi land without first entering an Eandi village. They made camp together one last time, joined this time by several other Qirsi peddlers who were on their way into Stelpana. D'Chul played his lute for them again, and by now Cresenne had learned enough of the songs to join in the singing, which she did without hesitation, despite her poor voice., as usual, had moved off a short distance with one of the older merchants, with whom he spoke in low tones, looking intent and smiling only occasionally. No doubt he was learning all he could about the Fal'Borna-the man with whom he was sitting had darker skin than any Qirsi Cresenne had ever seen, and she recalled hearing R'Shev say something about the Fal'Borna being a dark-skinned clan. This was one of the things she had come to love about Grinsa: his sense of duty, the determination with which he took care of those he loved.she wished that he'd allow himself to have fun, just this once. They were in Qirsi land now, and though she wasn't foolish enough to believe that this simple fact was the answer to all their worries, she couldn't help but feel that the most difficult part of their journey was over. Surely that was cause for celebrating, for taking this one night to be at ease and enjoy their new friends.again, she knew that Grinsa would only rest easy when he had convinced himself that he could keep her and Bryntelle safe. That was his way. Cresenne forced herself to ignore him and trust that he was enjoying himself in his own manner.following morning, D'Chul left them. He intended to follow the river southward toward the inland sea, stopping at villages along the way. He recommended that they continue toward the west.
"You're better off now that you're in Qirsi land," he told them, solemnly. "But R'Shev was right when he said that the Fal'Borna are hard. You'll be better off among the J'Balanar. You'll stand out a bit." He grinned. "Unless you have yourselves marked as they do. But they're more likely to welcome you into their settlements. Better still, you could go on to the forest and join the A'Vahl or my people."
"I thought R'Shev said the A'Vahl were arrogant," Grinsa said, smiling.
"They're not as bad as he made out. He did that mostly for my benefit. There's a belief among the other clans that the M'Saaren and the A'Vahl are rivals, probably because we share the woodland, and we fought a couple of wars several centuries ago. The truth is we get along well enough now. The A'Vahl are good people; most of them at least. You could do far worse."stepped forward and embraced the man. "Thank you, D'Chul. You've been a fine guide and a good friend."
"Good luck to you," the lutenist said, smiling broadly.kissed his cheek, surprised once more by how sad she felt to be leaving someone who had been a stranger only days before.
"I'll remember your playing for the rest of my days," she said. "And I'll sing the songs you taught us to Bryntelle. She'll know the words at least, even if I give her only a poor sense of the tune."'Chul climbed back onto his cart and picked up the reins. "Farewell," he said. "May there always be open roads before you and kin at your back." He grinned at them one last time. "That's an old Qirsi blessing."clicked his tongue at his horse and started away, turning one last time to wave good-bye.and Cresenne watched him go for several moments. Then they climbed onto their horses and began to ride westward. During the time they'd been with D'Chul they'd spoken little to each other. Now that they were alone together, except of course for Bryntelle, Cresenne found that she wasn't certain what to say. She hadn't felt this way around him in a long time, and it made her uneasy. For his part, Grinsa seemed no more inclined to start up a conversation than she was., however, he glanced her way, his expression revealing little. "You've been angry with me," he said.faint smile touched her lips and was gone. He knew her so well; better, she sometimes believed, than she knew him.
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