Storm Breaking

Lyam looked baffled, but shrugged, accepting what Sejanes said for the moment.

Karal nodded. 'Trying to do things the way he was used to would probably get him in great difficulties in Hardorn, wouldn't it?' he asked. 'It might even break up the peace, and he might not know why that had happened. Now, he hasn't a choice, you see; he'll know what is best and he'll have to do it, or he knows how he'll suffer for it. And you know,' he continued, feeling a certain amount of surprise at the insight, 'the thing is. since people will know he can't do anything selfishly or maliciously, they're likely to be easier on his mistakes, if you take my meaning. They'll be more likely to forgive and explain.'

Sejanes flashed a mildly surprised but appreciative look at him. 'Exactly so. And I am very fond of Tremane; I should like to see him as happy as anyone burdened with power and the ability to wield it can be. He has a strong sense of responsibility, and this may be the one opportunity of his lifetime to exercise that responsibility with people who are likely to appreciate the care he will take.' Once again, Sejanes' gaze turned inward. 'He had his estate. of course, but those on it were used to being ruled gently. The folk of Hardorn were subjected to every ill imaginable. That will make them grateful to a gentler hand.'

Lyam uttered the breathy equivalent of a laugh, showing very sharp, pointed teeth. 'He will be finding himself burdened with more than power, I think. Earth-sense is as jealous a mistress as responsibility.'

'But the earth-sense and his own responsibility will work in harness amicably, rather than pulling him to pieces between them,' Sejanes countered. 'Had he risen to power in the Empire, he would have spent every day being torn among fear, duty, responsibility, expediency, and the right. I think it might have driven him mad. I know it would have changed him into something I would no longer recognize.'

The hertasi shrugged again. 'Good, then. We take what small victories we can. I hope that all this gives him aid if we cannot stop the Storms. He shall need every help he can muster to protect these people who are now depending on him.'

'It might.' Karal knew something about earth-sense, though few Sun-priests had it. The ability was much valued among the farmers of the Karsite hills, where the soil was poor and the weather chancy. If you knew that it would be a bad decision to plant corn this year in a particular field, and a good one to plant clover, you might prosper when your neighbors failed. And if you shared your expertise with your neighbors, you might all be able to pay the tithe in goods instead of your own flesh-and-blood, come harvest time. It wasn't exactly a witch-power, and it wasn't exactly one of the things that would get you sent to the Fires, but it also wasn't the sort of thing that you spoke about to the Sun-priests. The Sun-priests in their turn were careful not to ask about it, and all was well.

'Another small victory, then.' Lyam nodded decisively, and seemed to think that a change of subject was in order. 'This Natoli, who gave you this word—is she kin to you? Or something else?'

That was not the subject the young Karsite would have chosen, and Karal felt himself blushing furiously, as Lyam's quick eyes and quicker wit filled in the truth. 'Ah—' the little lizard said, not without sympathy, his head bobbing. 'She is to you what Jylen is to me, I think.' He sighed gustily. 'I do miss her company, but I would not have her here. She could not have endured the journey, and I think she would have felt herself useless, which is a bad thing for anyone to feel.'

'Natoli would have felt the same,' Karal admitted. 'Oh, I feel useless about half the time, and it makes me want to bite something. I'd rather not think how she would react.'

'Nor I, Jylen.' Lyam laughed. 'A trimmer tail there never was, nor a more graceful snout, but neither belong to a maid with an overabundance of patience.'

He shared a glance of fellow-feeling with Karal, and the young Karsite experienced a definite warming in the relationship between them.

'Well, Sejanes, I will take my leave of you,' Lyam told the mage. 'And of you, Karal. My stomach has an overly-intimate embrace with my spine, and I think I shall venture Firesong's cooking and see if it is as terrible as you claim. Surely he learned something from his hertasi!'

'It's not Firesong tonight, it's An'desha,' Karal assured him, 'And he and the Shin'a'in have agreed to share that particular chore from now on.'

'Thanks to the Hundred Little Gods!' Sejanes exclaimed with clear relief. 'Even enduring Shin'a'in butter-tea is preferable to eating what Firesong cooks!'

'In that case, I will haste my steps!' the hertasi cried. 'In case the other starvelings aloft decide to leave me with naught but scrapings!'

He scrambled down from his stool and scampered up the stairs with a staccato click of toenails on stone. Sejanes cocked an eyebrow at Karal.

'What about you?' he asked. 'I was under the impression that young men were never quite fully fed.'

It was Karal's turn to shrug uncomfortably. His stomach was still in something of a knot, and he wondered if Natoli was always going to affect him that way. If so, he was destined to grow much thinner.

'Lucky in love?' the old man asked, softly, and with a kindly and sympathetic manner. 'Or unlucky? Either one can be hazardous to the appetite.'