Oathbreaker

where the fire could warm him, and she could study him through half-slitted eyes at her leisure.

Jadrek seemed so much happier these days -- well, small wonder. Stefansen respected him, Mertis admired him, Tarma allowed him to carry her off to interrogate in private at almost any hour. She was willing to answer most of his questions about the 'mysterious' (at least to the folk of Rethwellan) nomad Shin'a'in. Roald did him like courtesy about the equally 'mysterious' Heralds of Valdemar. Both of them accorded him the deference due a serious scholar. Warrl practically worshiped at his feet (Jadrek's ability to 'hear' the beast being in no wise abated), and he seemed to share Tarma's feeling of comradeship with the kyree. Being given the respect he was (in all sober truth) due had done wonders for his state of mind. As the days passed, the lines of bitterness around his mouth were easing into something more pleasant. He smiled, and often, and there was no shadow of cynicism in it; he laughed, and there was no hint of mockery.

Physically he was probably in less pain than he had been for years -- which Kethry was quite sure was due to Need's Healing abilities. Need was exerting her magic for a man because he was important to Kethry. For Kethry had no doubt as to how she felt about the Archivist. If there was ever going to be one man for her, Jadrek was that man.

All the men I've known, she thought with a touch of wry humor, and all the men I've been courted by - boggles the mind. Mages, fighters -- some of them damned good looking. Good lord, if you were to count Thalhkarsh, I've even been propositioned by a godling! And who is it that attracts me like no one else ever has? A scholar half again my age, who I could probably break in half if I put my mind to it, with no recourse to Need required.

'.,. Like all those weirdling things out of the Pelagirs,' Roald finished, 'Except that this thing seems impossible to kill.'

 'The Pelagirs'?' Jadrek exclaimed, perplexed. 'But I thought you said this thing was seen north of Lake Evendim?'

'It was -- right in the heart of the Pelagir Hills.'

'Wait a moment,' Jadrek said, rummaging in the pile of clutter under his chair, and hunting up a piece of scraped vellum and a bit of charcoal. 'All right -- here's the lake -- your Pelagirs are where?'

'Up here.' The Herald took the charcoal from him and sketched.

'Huh.' Jadrek studied the sketch thoughtfully. 'We have a range of hills we call the Pelagirs, too -- here.'

'Well! I will be dipped for a sheep -- '

'Fairly obvious, now that we have the information, isn't it?' Jadrek said with a grin. 'Your Pelagirs and ours are the same; except that your inland sea cuts off the tail of the range, leaving it isolated from the rest up in your northwest corner. And now that I know that's true, I think I know what your 'man-beast' is, assuming I've got the description right. Four arms, twice man-height, face like a boar and taloned hands? No sign of genitals, nipples or navel, and the color of clay?'

'That's it.'

'It's a krashak, a mage-made construct. Virtually immortal and indestructible.'

'You can name it; can you tell us how to get rid of it?' Roald pleaded.

'Oddly enough, yes; it's a funny thing, but High Magick seems curiously vulnerable to Earth Magick, and with all the mages hanging about Char I took to looking for spellbreakers. It will take courage, but if you can get in close to the thing without it seizing you, and throw a mixture of salt, moly and Lady's Star into its eyes and mouth, it will literally fall apart.' He coughed, coloring a little with embarrassment. 'I know it sounds like a peasant superstition, but it does work. I found a mage I could trust, and asked him. Now I-I always carry some with me....'

Roald only looked impressed. 'Havens, how long did you have to look before you found that out?'

Jadrek flushed, this time with pleasure. 'Well, I got the first hint of it from a translation of Grindel's Discourses on Unnatural History.'

'The Orwind translation, or the Quenta?'

'The Orwind....' Their voices sank again and Kethry lost the thread of their conversation. It didn't much matter; she was more interested in watching Jadrek in an unguarded mood. Oh, that mind! I don't think anything ever escapes him. And, for all that he's been treated badly, he so enjoys people -- such a vital spirit in that flawed body. He's so alive. And damn it, I -- Windbom, he makes me so shameless that I feel like a cat in heat around him. I want to purr and cuddle up against him -- gods, I am bloody well infatuated. If he so much as raised an eyebrow in invitation at me, I'd warm his bed in a minute!

Unfortunately, he seemed blissfully unaware of that fact, so far as she could tell. Oh well....

As for Tarma, from the moment she had re-entered the hall arm in arm with Roald, Stefansen and Mertis accepted her without reservation. And that meant that Mertis was only too happy to let her play nursemaid to little Megrarthon whenever she wished. Which was most of the time.