more the look of ceremony than a true washing. This struck Sauk as nothing unusual. Most faiths had rites of ceremonial cleansing-his included, though the Beastlord's worshipers slathered themselves in blood more often than water.
Sauk knew that earlier that morning, Talieth had ordered servants into the gardens with a list of things to gather- acorns, mistletoe and holly leaves, a sprig of oak leaves. So early in the season, the acorns had been the most difficult, but they had found them at last in the tangled maze of greenery that grew round the base of the Tower of the Sun. Since the old druid had taken up residence there, all sorts of odd things grew in and out of season.
Sauk watched as Lewan sat, still naked, at the water's edge and used a stone from the stream to crush the acorns and some of the leaves. He then dipped three fingers of his right hand into the greenish-brown concoction and painted a series of symbols on his forehead, the backs of his eyelids, across both lips, round his heart, and the patch of skin between his navel and groin. Sauk scowled and muttered, 'Damned leaf-lovers.'
Lewan then piled a small cushion of young larch needles at the base of the nearest tree, sat on it with his legs crossed and his hands on his knees, leaned his head back against the bole of the tree, closed his eyes-and didn't move for a long while. Sauk sometimes thought he could see the boy's lips moving, but he was too far away to be sure.
And there Lewan sat as the shadows in the wood turned a deeper shade of blue and the cool of evening began to whisper down the mountain. Although he couldn't see them through the trees, Sauk knew that the first stars were skirting the eastern horizon.
A jolt, almost like a muscle spasm, struck Sauk. But this was in his mind, in his heart of hearts, that deep part of his soul entwined with the tiger. Someone was approaching. And not from a distance. Someone was already well into the wood, within an easy stone's throw of the boy. How someone had gotten so close without Sauk-or especially Taaki-being aware of them, Sauk had no idea. It put his hackles up. Sauk sensed Taaki rising from her hiding place and stalking down the slope, keeping to the shadows under the trees.
No, Sauk told her. Easy. Let's see.
Sauk drew his knife and waited. The boy still hadn't moved. If he heard the figure approaching, he'd shown no sign of it.
Sauk saw movement before he could make out any features. Just a different shadow moving through a wood that was quickly dimming to the uniform shade of evening. The figure made no attempt at stealth and moved without haste. Lewan still hadn't moved, though he'd have heard the figure by now-unless he'd fallen asleep.
The figure made its way round the last of the trees. A man. Sauk could tell by the way the figure walked. But his features were completely hidden within the folds of a loose robe and a deep hood. In the gloom of the oncoming evening, the robe looked black.
The man stopped a few feet away from Lewan. The boy opened his eyes and started at the sight of the robed man standing near him. The man reached up with both hands and pulled down his hood. Sauk got his first good look at the man, and he felt all the blood drain from his face.
Lewan had been aware of someone approaching for some time. Believing it to be Sauk, he paid it no mind, though he did note that he heard him coming quite clearly. Days ago, on the trek through the Shalhoond, Lewan had been surprised at how someone as large as Sauk could move with such grace through the woods. Perhaps Sauk was purposefully making noise to announce his return.
When the sound of footsteps stopped nearby, Lewan opened his eyes. He gasped and barely caught the scream in his throat, for it wasn't the half-orc after all, but someone wearing a dark robe and hood. Lewan could just make out a man's chin within the deep shadow under the hood.
'Forgive me,' said the hooded man. His voice was deep and rich, but Lewan could hear the rasp of old age in its timbre. 'I did not mean to startle you.'
The stranger lowered his hood, and Lewan faced an old man. His thinning hair, mostly gray but with streaks of black, just dusted his shoulders. His skin was not as dark as Lewan's, bur it had the darker tone of someone from southern regions, and though he was wrinkled as worn leather, his eyes were bright and sharp.
'Wh-who are you?' said Lewan. The man did nor appear hostile, and Lewan's hammering heart was beginning to slow. Lewan leaned over, grabbed his trousers, and covered his nakedness.
The man smiled and gave a slight bow. 'Forgive me again,' he said. 'Though you have been a guest in my home for some days, I have not yet greeted you-though I understand you have been partaking of my hospitality. Well met, Lewan.'
'Your… house?' said Lewan. 'You mean, you're…'
'The Old Man of the Mountain. Master of Sentinelspire.'
Lewan's mouth went dry, and his heart began to hammer again. 'Uh… w-well met, Master. Thank you for your, um… hospitality. Your daughter the Lady Talieth has made me most comfortable.'
'Has she?' The Old Man chuckled. 'She does like them young, but I would have thought you were a bit young even for her.'
Lewan blushed and averted his eyes. 'That was not my meaning, my lord! I-'
'And now,' the Old Man cut him off, 'I must ask your forgiveness a third time. I know what you meant, young man. I was simply having a bit of fun. But I am glad you have met Talieth, for it is she about which we must speak. She and the half-orc and their little… what would be the word?'
'Word, my lord?'
'You and I have just met, Lewan. I am trying to mind my manners, as they say. Put a polite term to their very impolite… plotting.'
'Plotting, lord?'
The Old Man frowned. 'Don't dither with me, boy. You're an honest young man. Your master brought you up right. Six days in my fortress, and you are already practicing the arts of deceit. Please allow me to be brutally honest with you, Lewan. You're no good at it. Don't try. Remain true to yourself.'
He knows, Lewan thought. Knows it all. Knows Talieth is trying to stop him. Knows Sauk is in on it. Knows I'm helping them. He might even know the bargain I've struck. Lewan's fear paled into something approaching sheer terror at that, and he thought, Oh, Ulaan…
'I've not come to kill you, boy,' said the Old Man. 'And your girl is safe from me.'
Lewan's eyes widened and his mouth dropped.
The Old Man threw back his head and laughed. 'Oh, dear boy! Don't look so shocked. I'm no wizard, reading your thoughts like a tome. You wear your thoughts plain on your face. However…' The good humor left the Old Man's face and he looked down on Lewan with utmost solemnity. 'I will not tell you not to fear. Be very afraid, Lewan. Talieth and her little conspiracy… well, I'll forsake politeness for bluntness on this point. They are lying to you. They are using you. Do not trust them.'
Doubt began to course through Lewan, like a poison slowly working its way through the veins. It occurred to him to wonder why he had never seriously questioned Talieth's tale or her motives. True enough, a large part of it at first was that he'd believed himself a prisoner without much choice. But there were the earthquakes, that plume of steam from the mountaintop earlier, and the Old Man was a lord of assassins, after all, a master of murderers. Then the obvious question occurred to Lewan.
'Why-?'
'Why haven't I done something about it?' Lewan nodded, unable to speak.
The Old Man shook his head. 'Well, let me just say that the time is not yet right.' 'The… time?'
'Let me guess,' said the Old Man. 'Talieth, Sauk, maybe even a few of the other blades, have told you that I have gone quite mad and am intent on destroying all they hold dear. To assure your sympathies, they have probably even told you that my nefarious plans will destroy all you hold dear as well. Do I hit close to the mark?'
Lewan said nothing and had to force himself not to nod. He didn't know who or what to believe.
'Truth is a rare gift, Lewan,' said the Old Man, 'but I will give it to you now. I am not out to destroy the world, but to save it-save it from Talieth and those like her, whose greed and ambition would destroy anyone and anything that gets in their way.'
The sounds of crickets and night birds began to fill the wood, as Lewan simply sat there, staring into the pool. In the past tenday, his entire world had been cracked. He felt raw, drained, and utterly and completely confused. He put his head in his hands, and without looking up, he said, 'Why are you telling me all this? What if I
