Storm Warning

'Those who support Solaris without reservation, like Ulrich, purely because she is the Son of the Sun by Vkandis' Own hand,' Karal said, 'And those who are simply too young to have fought Valdemar personally, and so have no personal grudges to bear. When you're young enough, the world is new every day.'

'Ah.' Rubrik considered this for a moment—perhaps noting that Karal did not say which group he belonged in—and straightened a bit in his seat, stretching and flexing his shoulders. 'And on that optimistic note, I suggest we both find a nice warm bed,' he said.

Optimistic? Well, I suppose so—if you consider that he means that eventually all the old fossils will die and the new generation, presumably without the prejudices of the old, will take over. 'That sounds like a good idea to me,' Karal agreed. 'And forgive me if I hope that your bad weather holds long enough to prevent us from leaving until the sun is properly above the horizon!'

Rubrik only laughed. 'I won't promise anything,' he replied. 'But I think this is a wizard-storm, and if it is, it will be cleared up before midnight at the latest.'

Karal sighed.

Ulrich was still awake when Karal came in, and Karal reported the whole conversation faithfully. As Ulrich's secretary, he had learned how to memorize long conversations verbatim, when they had been in a situation where taking notes would have been impolite or impolitic. Ulrich listened without comment, then nodded approval.

'You did very well,' he told his protege. 'You told him nothing he should not know—and perhaps, having been told of the Miracles by an eyewitness, he will be reporting them as fact rather than hearsay to his superiors.'

Karal stretched his knotted muscles and grimaced. 'Master, I have to tell you that although I do enjoy this man's company, I had almost rather be facing an armed enemy than have another of these conversations with him. He is very good, very subtle. I think that if he tried, he could probably have gotten much more out of me than I intended to tell him. I believe he was hoping for just this sort of opportunity to catch me alone and question me. He knows what will be good for Valdemar to know of Karse now, but if I spent too much more time in his presence I think it might be that I would tell him too much—or something he would misinterpret.'

Ulrich considered this for a moment, staring into the fire in the tiny fireplace in their room. 'I think you are probably right,' he replied, his expression thoughtful, though not at all apprehensive. 'It was probably not coincidental that he began asking all these questions of you at the moment when I was out of reach and earshot. I think that the next such conversation should include me.'

Karal heaved a sigh of relief at that. He had been concentrating so hard on telling only the truth, and yet not all the truth, that he had not realized how tense he had been under Rubrik's scrutiny until he got back to the room he shared with his mentor. Now, he found he had to go through every stretching and relaxing exercise he knew just to get himself unknotted enough to sleep!

This Rubrik was subtle, very subtle. And although he had not consciously been aware of the fact, something instinctive had reacted to that. Among the Priests, 'subtle' frequently meant 'dangerous.'

And among the Priests, 'subtle' always meant that the man must never be underestimated.

But as Karal blew out the candle and climbed into his own bed, he found himself hoping only one thing—that in this case, 'subtle' did not mean 'treacherous' as well.

Six

Regrettably, Rubrik was right about the weather. A tap on their door at an absolutely unholy hour proved that the storm had cleared; before dawn, if not by midnight. Karal pried himself out of his warm cocoon of blankets with a groan of regret that was only slightly softened by the fact that the servants who woke them also brought breakfast along with wash water and a candle. A real breakfast this time, not just bread and drink.

I might be able to face the day, he decided, after a decent meal of eggs and bacon, hot bread and sweet honey-butter, with plenty of freshly pressed cider to wash it all down. The hastily-snatched meals on horseback tended to wear very thin, long before Rubrik would decree a halt for further food.

'I think that our escort has probably forgotten how much a young man needs to eat,' Ulrich observed with an amused smile, as he watched Karal devour the remains of his mentor's breakfast as well as his own. 'I shall remind him.'

'Thank you, Master Ulrich,' Karal said with real gratitude. 'It's not as if he hasn't been very reasonable, but —'

'But he is probably as many years removed from the age at which one devours one's weight in food every day as I am,' Ulrich replied. 'One forgets.'