"It's just one woman, T'Noth, if it's even that. There's no reason for our people to do anything to the Mettai."
"You say that now, but what if this woman is responsible, and what if she takes her plague to other Fal'Borna villages, or to the J'Balanar?then?"'Doryn had to admit that it was a sobering question. "Let's hope someone finds her soon," he finally said.
"Let's hope."moment later, N'Tevva returned with the children. All three of them were flushed and laughing, even the little one, which gladdened'Doryn's heart.'Noth and Etan said their farewells, and walked off to T'Noth's home. N'Tevva began preparing the girls for bed in the bedroom that she and S'Doryn usually shared. For the time being, at least, that would be their room, and the adults would sleep in the common room. After a time, she came out again.
"They want you to say good night to them," she said.nodded and walked back to their bedroom. Now it was the girls' room. Was that how they'd speak of it from this night on? Was he really a father now?were tucked into the single bed, Vettala by the wall, her pale eyes shining in the light of the single candle that burned by the door. S'Doryn crossed to the bed and sat beside Jynna. "Good night," he said.smiled. "Good night."
"You're comfortable?"nodded.looked at the younger girl. "And you?"hid her face in the pillow.seemed that smiling with the other children was one thing. Accepting him as a friend, much less as a new father, was quite another. He stood, walked to the door, and bent to blow out the candle. Before he could, Vettala let out a small cry.
"I think she wants it lit," Jynna said.
"All right then." He straightened and stepped out of the room. "Thank you," Jynna called to him. "From both of us."grinned. "You're welcome." He pulled the door until it was nearly all the way closed, and went out to the common room. N'Tevva was sitting at the table.
"Did the younger one say anything to you?" she asked, looking concerned.
"Not a word," he said, sitting beside her.shook her head. A pale wisp of hair fell over her brow and she brushed it away. She still looked much as she had when they first were joined. Her skin remained smooth, save for a few lines around her eyes and mouth, and she still wore her white hair tied back loosely. Her eyes were the color of the winter sun on a hazy day.
"She wouldn't even look at me," she said. "I tried everything, but you would have thought that I was a demon from the Underrealm itself the way she shied away from me."
"It'll take some time. But Jynna will help her through it."
"I know," she said. She smiled, though the look in her eyes remained sad. "There are children sleeping in our home."
"I've been thinking about that. It's not quite how we always hoped it would happen."
"No, but that's all right. They need us." "We're a bit old to be starting out as parents."
"I don't know what you're talking about," she said airily. "Oh, I suppose you're getting on in years, but I'm certainly not."laughed, then leaned over and kissed her. "I missed you."
"I missed you, too." She took his hand, but he could see that she was troubled. "All this talk of a Mettai witch frightens me. It's going to frighten a lot of people as it gets around the village."
"It should," he said. "If she's really out there, doing to other villages what we think she did to Tivston, we should all be terrified."the next several days, the girls began to settle into the rhythms of Fal'Borna life. They accompanied N'Tevva into the fields and they fished the waters of the lake with S'Doryn. They even went to the sanctuary for lessons with other children their ages, though N'Tevva was concerned about Vettala, who had yet to say a word to either her or S'Doryn, and who seemed unwilling to leave Jynna's side.to the older girl, however, Vettala willingly went off with children her own age once they reached the sanctuary. Even there, she spoke to no one, but she played some of the games that the younger children played, and she appeared to listen attentively to her lessons.'Selle had said that she would speak with other a'laqs, using her powers to walk in their dreams, as all Weavers could. But S'Doryn heard nothing from the a'laq, and he didn't presume to ask her, knowing that if she had anything of importance to tell him, she would do so.full of the two moons came and went, marking the beginning of the Harvest waning, and still the a'laq told him nothing.
"You should ask her," T'Noth urged one evening, as S'Doryn and'Kaar walked the fields with him.
"Don't you think she'd tell us if she knew anything?" T'Kaar asked.
"Perhaps she hasn't even reached for them yet," the younger man said. "She's not been well, you know. It might have slipped her mind." "And what if it hasn't?" S'Doryn asked. "What if she takes the ques tion as an affront?"'Noth offered a small shrug. "You could…" He shrugged a second time. "She'd probably understand. She knows how anxious we are for any word of the woman."
"Perhaps it slipped her mind," T'Kaar said, grinning now.
"Yes," S'Doryn said. "I think you should remind her, T'Noth. Old as I am, it might slip my mind as well."'Kaar laughed.
"Fine," the younger man said, walking away from them both. "We'll wait."didn't have to wait long. Three days into the waning, at midmorning, as he worked his crops, S'Doryn received word that the a'laq wished to speak with him. He hurried to her house, arriving there just as the brothers did. It seemed they had been summoned as well.
"Do you know what this is about?" T'Noth asked.sounded eager, as only a young man could under such circumstances. For his part, S'Doryn had started to hope that Jynna had been wrong about the Mettai woman, that her tale really was just the product of fear and grief and a young girl's imagination. He dreaded hearing whatever it was the a'laq had learned.into the a'laq's cottage, they saw that the other members of the clan council were there as well, some of them seated around her table, others standing. Far more surprising, Jynna, who was supposed to be at the sanctuary, sat at the table beside U'Selle, looking pale and young and very scared. Every person in the room looked up as the three men entered.
"At last," the a'laq said brusquely. "Come in, please. There isn't much room, but I hadn't the strength to make my way to the sanctuary." "Not good," T'Kaar muttered, his voice tight.'Doryn had to agree.looked as though she wanted to be near him, but was afraid to offend the a'laq. U'Selle appeared to notice this as well, for she whispered something to the girl, and immediately Jynna was on her feet. She ran to him, threw her arms around him, and pressed her face to his shirt.
"What's going on?" she asked, the words muffled. "Why did they bring me here?"
"I don't know, Jynna," he said, stroking her hair. "But we'll find out. Sit with me."nodded, and followed him to the table. T'Noth and T'Kaar sat with them and the rest of those who had been standing came to the table as well.
"When Jynna first came to our village with her story of the pestilence and its odd effect on her people," the a'laq began, "we didn't quite know what to make of it. Some wondered if this were some new form of the disease that struck only Qirsi victims. Others thought it might be unique to the Y'Qatt, a product of their forswearing of magic. And still others thought it might be the work of the Mettai, a spell directed at Qirsi magic.
"I've considered all of these possibilities and at the same time have been in contact with a'laqs throughout Fal'Borna lands to see if there are other villages or septs that have suffered as Jynna's people did, dreading the day I would find them."took a breath and was taken with a fit of coughing. When it finally passed, she dabbed at her mouth with a small cloth.
"I found them this morning. Or rather, they found me. Another a'laq, a man named S'Plaed, spoke to me as I slept, Weaver to Weaver." Jynna turned to S'Doryn, looking puzzled.
"Weavers can walk in the dreams of other Qirsi," he whispered to her. "Even from afar. It allows us to communicate with other septs, even other Qirsi clans if need be."'Selle had paused in her tale, allowing him to explain. Now she went on. "S'Plaed leads a sept on the northern edge of the plain. Not long ago they numbered five thousand strong. Then they were visited by an Eandi merchant. Within hours of this man's appearance, the pestilence struck, sickening thousands-at least half of S'Plaed's sept. As with Jynna people, this strain of the disease took hold of their magic so that fire and shaping and healing raged out of control. Hundreds more died in the destruction the afflicted did to their families and neighbors. The a'laq usually meets with all merchants who visit his village, but in this case the man was in too great a hurry to leave. His haste is all that saved S'Plaed's life.
"According to S'Plaed, the merchant's name is Torgan Plye and among the wares he was selling that day were Mettai baskets of uncommon quality. This man has been named an enemy of all Fal'Borna people, and is to be killed on sight."
"Did you ask about the woman?" Jynna asked, drawing stares from all around the table. "There was a Mettai woman! She made the baskets!"'Doryn feared that U'Selle might be angered by the interruption, but the a'laq just shook her head.
"He said nothing about a woman, or about any Mettai for that matter."started to say more, but U'Selle silenced her with a raised hand.
"The baskets are enough, child. I believe what you told us about the woman, and as soon as I heard that he was selling Mettai baskets, it occurred to me that she and the merchant are partners in some dark scheme. I don't know how or why she came to be working with this Torgan Plye, but clearly there are Eandi abroad on the plain who seek to destroy all Qirsi people, be they Fal'Borna or Y'Qatt."
"How long ago did this happen, A'Laq?" T'Noth asked.
"Not long. A matter of days. You should also know," she said, "that most of those who survived were children, just as with the outbreak in Tivston."
"It has to be the magic," S'Doryn said. "That's the only way to explain it."
"The only way?" asked one of the council members.
"I believe so. This is a disease that kills Qirsi adults but spares their, and the Eandi who spread it. How else could that be possible?"
"Then it must be the Mettai," said another member of the council.
"A curse of some sort. The Eandi couldn't do such a thing on their own."
"I told you this would lead to war."'Doryn looked at T'Noth, who was eyeing him closely, his expression grim.
"I told S'Plaed about Jynna," U'Selle was saying to them all, quieting the rising din in the room. "I also told him about the Mettai woman. It seems our people are under attack, though in a way that none of us has seen before, or even considered. Well, fine then. Our foes will find that the strength of the Fal'Borna hasn't slackened at all in the years since the last Blood Wars. Others will be watching now for the Mettai witch who struck at our friends in Tivston, just as we are, just as we will also be watching for this demon merchant, this Torgan Plye. If they're on the plain, they won't live long." A dark smile touched her face and was gone. "Enemies of the Fal'Borna never do."18and Cresenne's first days among the Fal'Borna weren't quite as difficult as Grinsa had feared they might be. Yes, they were captives; there could be no denying that. Had their welcome from E'Menua, the sept's a'laq, been friendlier, had they been given the option of staying with the sept or moving on as they saw fit, Grinsa and Cresenne might very well have chosen to remain, at least for a time. From all they had heard from R'Shev, D'Chul, and the other merchants, it seemed the Fal'Borna were a hard, uncompromising people, and certainly their captivity seemed further evidence of this. But the Fal'Borna could also be friendly, open, and generous.the a'laq had promised, their shelter was up and ready for them before nightfall on that first day they reached the sept. They were given food and wine, including roasted rilda, which might have been the most delicious meat Grinsa had ever tasted. And over the course of those first few days family after family came to welcome them to the village. The women cooed at Bryntelle and spoke to Cresenne of their own children and all they had learned over their years of caring for infants. The men ignored both Cresenne and Bryntelle, instead vying with one another for Grinsa's attention. There could be little doubt that all the attention they received, perhaps even the kindnesses shown to Cresenne, whom all thought of as merely Grinsa's concubine, was due to the fact that he was a Weaver. It was unclear whether the Fal'Borna hoped to convince him to remain with the sept of his own accord, or merely assumed that he would remain and were seeking to curry favor with their newest Weaver.the end, the Fal'Borna's motivations mattered little. Knowing that they were not permitted to leave made Grinsa and Cresenne think of leaving nearly all the time. The courtesies shown them by the men and women of the sept were particularly hollow for Cresenne, who knew that had Grinsa not been a Weaver, they would have ignored her completely. Indeed, even as they complimented her on how beautiful Bryntelle was, and how healthy the babe appeared to be, some of the younger women also cast looks at Grinsa, as if hoping that they might find a way into his bed as well. This at least is what she told him their second night in the village, as they lay alone in their shelter, listening to Bryntelle's steady breathing and the distant howling of a wolf.other circumstances, he might have thought that she was imagining this. But one of the men who had been speaking to him earlier in the night had as much as offered Grinsa his daughter.
"Many of our Weavers have taken two, even three concubines," the man told him, explaining the offer as he might have explained the Harvest weather or the rising and falling of the price of grain in the marketplace. "A Fal'Borna Weaver spreads his seed as he pleases. For the good of our people, of course."
"Of course," Grinsa had said, smiling pleasantly. "But Cresenne isn't my concubine. She's my wife."man's eyes widened. "Oh! Forgive me! I didn't know she was a Weaver as well. I thought… Well, I was mistaken."should have let it go at that, but regardless of whether they were to remain, he didn't want to have any of them thinking him a liar.
"She's not a Weaver," he told the man. "Where we come from, Weavers are free to be joined to whomever they choose."
"Well," the man said, smiling in return, "you're here now."was much the same thing E'Menua had said to them the day before.
"I have you," Grinsa told Cresenne that night, kissing her brow. "Why would I need another concubine?"laughed, though she also kicked him under the blanket.
"You're finding all of this far too amusing," she said, and while she was still smiling, he could hear the tightness in her voice.
"I'm sorry. Really. This can't be easy for you."
"Half the time, it's like I'm not even here. They talk about finding a wife for you from one of the other septs, about how your arrival here means so much to them all."
"It seems that some of the women have been kind to you."nodded. "Some of them have. But I'm starting to suspect that the ones who are nicest are the ones who have been concubines themselves. And they're kind to me right up until I insist that I'm not just your concubine. As soon as I say anything to that effect, they grow cold, distant." A bitter smile touched her lips. "It seems like I'm better off playing along. Maybe I should help them find you a wife."
"I have a wife."looked at him. "No, Grinsa, you don't. I know that you love me, and I love you, too. But the fact is we were never joined. With all that happened in the turns before we left the Forelands, we never found the time. And even if we had, I'm not certain that it would count for much here."felt a tightness in his throat. "What are you saying?" he asked.smiled at what she saw on his face, and kissed him softly on the lips. "Nothing terrible. I may not be a Weaver, but I'll fight with every bit of strength and magic I have if they try to take you away from me. I'm just saying that we're going to have to tread carefully here. We might even have to play along for a time, let them think that you're open to being joined."
"Cresenne-"held a finger to his lips, then kissed him again. "It's all right. We can do this. Just for a little while, just long enough for us to figure out how to get away. It might be the only hope we have."
"That all sounds fine for me," he said. "But what about you? Can you bear being treated as a concubine for that long?"
"I'll manage it." She shrugged, a small grin lighting her face. "I may have to convince some other Weaver that I'd be willing to become his concubine. Just to keep up appearances, of course. Although the men here are very handsome."smiled. "Is that so?"nodded, giggling as he started to kiss her neck.
"If you ask me," he said, "they're just short."eyes sparkled in the candlelight. "They're tall enough."kissed her again, and this time she held him, kissing him back deeply.
"We'll get out of here," he whispered, as she nestled against him and closed her eyes. "I'm not sure how yet, but we will."
"I know," she said, sounding sleepy. "I just hope we can find a way to leave without making the Fal'Borna our enemies. I have a feeling that would be dangerous."next few days were much like their first among the Fal'Borna. As time went on, and they were accepted into the community, they came to feel less like curiosities. Several of the women made clear to Cresenne that she was expected to work with the rest of them at various tasks, be it tanning rilda skins, or grinding wild grain into meal for breads, or gathering roots and greens from the small copses that covered the nearby hills. Other women with young children, even those with babes younger than Bryntelle, left them in the care of some of the girls who were not yet old enough for such work, and they told Cresenne to do the same. At first, she later told Grinsa, she was reluctant, but seeing how happy all the children appeared to be, she eventually relented.his part, Grinsa was not expected to do any labor. Instead, the other Weavers expected him to sit with them outside the a'laq's shelter, smoking pipeweed and watching as the other men and women of the sept went about their daily tasks. The idea of it troubled him and at first he demurred, offering to help some of the other men, who were stretching finished skins over wooden poles for a new shelter. He quickly realized, though, that he was merely making these men uncomfortable and actually hindering their efforts. After just a short time, he returned to where the other two Weavers sat.of them said anything to him as he sat back down, and that suited him fine. He didn't much feel like talking. He could only think how eager he was to get away from this sept, indeed, from all of the Fal'Borna. More to the point, he had nothing to say to the two young Weavers. Though others in the sept had attempted to win his friendship, these two, Q'Daer and L'Norr, had not. Instead, they'd been hostile, as if Grinsa had given offense in some way and they had yet to forgive him. It hadn't taken Grinsa long to realize that they were jealous of him. While others in the sept were eager to welcome another Weaver into their community, seeing his arrival as a boon, Q'Daer and L'Norr saw only a new rival who, because he was older, and perhaps because he came from a distant land, might eventually form a close bond with the a'laq. On the one hand he would have liked to assure them that he had no interest in remaining here long enough to pose a threat to their standing. But it had also occurred to him that having the a'laq's closest advisors eager for him to leave might help him do just that.he returned to the a'laq's shelter, the Weavers were speaking of nothing in particular, at least nothing that interested him. They seemed to be reminiscing about a previous hunt. After a time, though, they fell silent. For several moments, they just sat there. Then Q'Daer, the first Fal'Borna Grinsa and Cresenne had encountered, turned to him, a puzzled look on his tanned, chiseled face.
"Why do you do that, Forelander?"didn't even look at him. "Do what?"
"Deny what you are. We tell you that Weavers do not labor with the others; that your place is here by the a'laq's z'kal. But you don't listen. You go off and try to do common work anyway, and I'd imagine that all you did was get in the way of the others. I doubt they even spoke to you."
"They spoke to me," he said, which was true, though in fact, the men had said precious little. They'd been courteous to a fault, but beyond that, they hadn't spoken at all, not to him, not to each other.
"You had an actual conversation with them?" Q'Daer asked. "What's your point?"
"Simply this. You are a Weaver. Whatever that meant in the Forelands, it means here that you are one of the select, chosen by Qirsar to be a leader among the Fal'Borna." He raised a hand, as if anticipating an argument. "And before you object, this is by no means unique to our clan. The J'Balanar, the Talm'Orast, the T'Saan, the M'Saaren and A'Vahl-nearly every clan in the Southlands treats its Weavers so."
"Nearly every one?"shrugged. "The B'Qahr may not. To be honest I don't know. They're a strange people-even if the a'laq consents to let you leave us, I'd suggest you avoid them. Unless you're hopelessly wedded to the sea and its ways."brief hope Grinsa had felt at the mention of this clan faded, leaving him discouraged. Joining a clan of sailors would be just about the last thing Cresenne would want.'Norr was watching them, listening to their exchange, but saying nothing. He and Q'Daer could have been brothers, so much did they resemble one another. They had the same rugged good looks, bronzed skin, long hair, and clear eyes that all the Fal'Borna men seemed to have. But as Grinsa sat with the two men now, it occurred to him that there should have been women here as well.
"I thought Fal'Borna Weavers were only joined to other Weavers." Q'Daer nodded. "That's right."
"So neither of you is joined yet."man straightened. "Not yet. But L'Norr here has a concubine already, and… and U'Vara, the a'laq's eldest child, who is just coming into her power, shows signs of being a Weaver. Before long, she'll be wed to one of us." He offered this last as if a challenge. She's ours, he seemed to be saying, though Grinsa sensed that it had yet to be decided which of the two men would be joined to her. He gathered as well that this last question was a matter of great import, certainly to Q'Daer, and most likely to L'Norr, too.
"But the a'laq told me that his sept has four Weavers."
"It does," L'Norr said. "E'Menua is joined to the fourth, of course. Her name is D'Pera."
"So does she labor with the other women?"
"No," Q'Daer told him, as if he were simple. "She oversees the work of the others, but she doesn't labor."
"It sounds, though, as if your sept will soon have five Weavers." L'Norr nodded, but Q'Daer merely laughed, though not kindly.
"We already have five Weavers, Forelander. Soon it will be six." Grinsa didn't argue the point.moment later, the flap of animal skin covering the shelter entrance was pushed aside, and E'Menua stepped into the sunlight. Immediately,'Daer and L'Norr were on their feet. After a moment, Grinsa stood as well.
"Well met, A'Laq," Q'Daer said. "How may we serve you?"had spoken with E'Menua only one time since their initial conversation, but then, as the first time, the a'laq had seemed a genial man, quick to smile, despite his willingness to use threats to get his way. On this morning, however, he looked grim and deadly serious. He was shorter than the younger Weavers, but broader as well, which somehow gave him the appearance of being larger than they were.
"I see you're finding your place, Forelander," he said. "I'll trust Q'Daer and L'Norr to show you what it means to be a Weaver in a Fal'Borna sept."
"Yes, they already have been. It seems I'm not allowed to work or leave. Do all your Weavers enjoy such… freedom?"a'laq shook his head. "I haven't time for this today."'Daer cast a dark look at Grinsa. "What's happened, A'Laq?"
"I've had word from the north," he said, eyeing the two younger men. "More talk of the pestilence?"
"In a sense." The a'laq glanced at Grinsa, as if deciding whether he wanted him to be party to this discussion. "They have the pestilence in the Forelands, don't they?" he finally asked.wasn't the first time he'd been asked this since arriving in the Southlands, and once more he thought of Pheba, whom he'd lost to the disease many years ago. He didn't think it wise to mention her, though. He wasn't certain how the Fal'Borna would react to learning that he had once been joined to an Eandi woman. "Yes, of course" was all he said.
"Have you ever heard of it afflicting Qirsi… differently?"frowned. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."a'laq exhaled slowly. "To be honest, I'm not entirely certain myself. It seems that this pestilence is striking at Qirsi magic, making our people so sick that they can't control their power. It pours out of them, destroying all in its path and exhausting them until they die."
"Demons and fire! I've never heard of such a thing."
"None of us has," E'Menua said. "And there may be a reason for that. It seems that this is a disease contrived for us by the Mettai." "What?" Q'Daer said, his pale eyes widening.was nearly as amazed as the young Weaver, though for a different reason. "The Mettai?"
"You've heard of them?" the a'laq asked.
"Yes, in legend. But I thought the Mettai died out centuries ago."
"Oh, no. They're still very much alive. There are small Mettai settlements throughout the northern reaches of Stelpana and Aelea. They live apart from other Eandi-it seems the dark-eyes don't like magic, even when it comes from the blood of their own kind."
"So, they really use blood magic?"'Menua nodded again. "To great effect, it seems. According to some of the other a'laqs, a Mettai woman has cursed us, and with help from an Eandi merchant is spreading the disease throughout Qirsi lands."
"A merchant?" Q'Daer repeated.
"Not just any merchant. Torgan Plye." Q'Daer's mouth dropped open.'Norr just shook his head. "Torgan? Are you certain?" "S'Plaed was certain."
"But Torgan wouldn't do anything to destroy his profits. You know that. He cares about gold and nothing else."
"It seems something has changed, L'Norr," the a'laq said, a hint of annoyance in his tone. "Unless you think the other a'laqs are lying to us."
"No, of course not, A'Laq!"
"I don't understand," Grinsa said. "How could one Mettai and one merchant spread a disease throughout Qirsi lands?"a'laq eyed him briefly, as if he thought Grinsa was questioning their strength or their intelligence. "We don't know," he said after a moment. "But clearly it has something to do with our magic. The only survivors have been children too young to have come into their power." "So the merchant is Mettai as well?"'Menua looked at the other men, who both shook their heads.
"I didn't think he was," the a'laq answered. "Now I'm not certain." "So it's possible that the merchant had nothing to do with it."
"He refused to meet with S'Plaed," E'Menua told him. "He spent only a few hours in the sept, long enough to make his share of gold and spread this venom the Mettai have contrived. Then he left. The pestilence struck later that day. He knew what he was doing."
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