Healer, the man who had nursed Tarma back to reluctant life so many years ago, put on a burst of speed that left the rest trailing in his wake.
Kethry slowed her own pace, as the Clansfolk streamed past her. Jadrie had stopped crying, and now only shivered in her arms, despite the heat. Kethry held her closer; Jadrie was both the sunniest and the most sensitive of the children so far. So far she had never seen anything to indicate that the world was not one enormous adventure.
Today -- she had just learned that adventures can be dangerous.
Today, she had learned one of life's hardest lessons; that the universe is not a friendly place. And Kethry sat down in the shade of the nearest tent, and held her as she cried for the pain of that lesson. She was still crying when angry and frightened voices neared, passed the tent walls, and continued in the direction of the Healer's tent.
When Jadrie had cried herself to exhaustion, Kethry put her to bed in the tent she and Tarma shared with the four children, gathered her courage, and started for the Healer's tent herself.
There was no crowd outside the tent, and the gathered Clansfolk appeared to have dispersed, but the entire encampment was on the alert now. Though there was no outward difference, Kethry could feel the tension, as if a storm sat just below the horizon, out of sight, but not out of sensing range.
She met Tarma coming out of the tent, and the tight lines of anger around her partner's mouth told her everything she needed to know.
'Warrl can guard the children. Do we stay here,' she asked, 'or do we ride?'
Tarma paused for a moment, and in that silence, the keening wail with which the Shin'a'in mourned their dead began. Her eyes narrowed, and Kethry saw her jaw harden.
'We ride,' the Shin'a'in said around clenched teeth.
They followed the river northward all day, then, when it dived beneath the cliff, up the switchback trail at the edge of the Dhorisha Plains. They reached the top at about sunset, but pushed on well past dusk, camping after dark in the midst of the pine-redolent Pelagiris Forest. Tarma had been silent the entire trip; Kethry burned to know what had happened, but knew she was going to have to wait for her partner to speak in her own good time.
Being an Adept-class mage meant that Kethry no longer had to be quite so sparing of her magical energies; she could afford to make a pair of witch-lights to give them enough light to gather wood, and to light the fire Tarma laid with a little spark of magic. It wasn't a very big fire -- in this heat, they only needed it to sear the rabbit they shared -- but Tarma sat staring into the last flames after she'd finished eating. Light from the flames revealed the huge trees nearest their campsite, trees so old and so large that Tarma could not encircle them with her arms, and so tall that the first branchings occurred several man-heights above the ground. Most of the time, the place felt a little like a temple; tonight, it felt more like a tomb.
'He didn't tell us much before he died,' Tarma said finally. 'By his clothing, what was left of it, he was For'a'hier -- that's Firefalcon Clan.'
'Are they -- all gone, do you think?' Kethry could not help thinking of what had happened to Tale'se-drin, but Tarma shook her head.
'They're all right. We sent someone off to them, but he told us he was on his own. Firefalcon has always been -- different; the Clan that produces the most shaman, even an occasional mage. They're known to roam quite a bit, sometimes right off the Plains. This one was a laj'ele'ruvon, a knowledge-seeker, and he had come seeking up here, in Tale'e-dras territory -- the shaman of Firefalcon have a lot more contact with the Tale'edras than the rest of us do. Whatever happened to him, happened here in the Forest.'
'You don't think the Hawkbrothers--' Somehow that didn't ring true, and Kethry shook her head, even as Tarma echoed the gesture.
'No -- there's a Hawkbrother mixed up in it somehow, he said that much before he died, but it was no Tale'edras that did that. I think he was trying to tell me the Hawkbrother was in trouble, somehow.' Tarma rubbed her temple, her expression baffled. 'I've been trying to think of a way that a Hawk-brother could possibly get into trouble, and I--'
Something screamed, just above their heads. Kethry nearly jumped out of her own skin, squeaked, and clutched Need's hilt.
The scream came again, and this time Kethry recognized it for what it was; the call of the owl-eagle, a nocturnal predator with the habits and silent flight of an owl, but the general build of an eagle. She might not have recognized it, except that a pair were nesting near the Keep, and her husband Jadrek spent hours every evening in delighted observation of them.
Tarma stood up, stared into the tree canopy, then suddenly kicked earth over the fire, dousing it. When Kethry's eyes had adjusted to the dark, she could hardly believe them. Hovering overhead was an owl-eagle, all right, a much bigger bird than either of the pair she'd seen before -- and stark white.
'That's a Tale'edras bird,' Tarma said grimly. 'They say the birds their mages use turn white after a while. I think he's been sent for help.'
