Estah's face hardened. 'Ravendas was always a sly one. She could don a look of remorse as easily as you might don your cloak. At the time it happened, Kera was the only one in camp. Ravendas spoke to her, pretty words I'm sure, and finally she convinced Kera that she was truly repentant, that she wished to begin a new life. Kera believed her, and she unlocked Ravendas's chains.'
Estah's voice trembled and her eyes grew distant, as if she were reliving it all over again. 'By the time we rode back to camp, Ravendas had escaped. We found Kera, her fair face pressed to the cold ground. The chains that had bound Ravendas were wrapped about her neck, wet with her blood.' She shook her head in sorrow. 'Kera was dead. Ravendas had strangled her.'
'But I don't understand,' Mari said, angered by what seemed Kera's pointless death. 'Why did Kera believe Ravendas? It should have been obvious that she was lying.'
'True,' Estah said with a nod, 'but Kera wanted to believe. You see, Mari, Kera and Ravendas were sisters.'
Mari stared at the healer in silent shock.
'Caledan blamed himself, of course,' Estah went on sadly. 'And he blamed the Harpers as well. He broke with the Harpers that day, and that was when the Fellowship disbanded. We each went on to lead our separate lives, and as far as I know Caledan has not played a note of music since. I think it reminds him of Kera far too much.'
Mari did not know what to say. The healer's tale made her regret a few of the harsh things she had said to Caldorien.
Estah shook her head, regarding the small hands resting against her gray homespun skirt. 'If only there had been enough healing in these two old hands,' she said softly. 'Perhaps Kera might have lived.'
Mari reached out and took the healer's hands in her own. 'But you can't fault yourself, Estah, no more than Caledan can.'
Estah pulled her hands away. 'Oh, yes, I can,' she said sternly. 'I can, and I do. But while Kera's death shattered Caledan, it made me strong, Mari. I vowed that day never to let another person I love die. Never.' She rose to her feet abruptly.
'I'd best see if Pog and Nog are in bed yet,' Estah said, then left Mari alone in the flickering light of the fire.
It was quiet in the Dreaming Dragon. Mari sat at a small table in the corner of her room, bathed in the light of a single candle. She unrolled a piece of parchment and dipped a quill in a small pot of ink. Her hand wavered for a moment as she thought of Estah's tale. Then she swallowed hard and began to write. She had her duty. When she was finished she read over the brief missive, written in her flowing hand:
Mari deftly folded the parchment and sealed it with hot wax from the candle. She would find a rider tomorrow who could deliver it to Twilight Hall in Berdusk. For a moment she watched the shadows cast by the candle's light flicker on the wall of her room. It was almost as if they were dancing, she thought, and then she blew out the flame.
Seven
It was midmorning two days later when Estah returned from a trip to the free market in the New City. The few patrons in the common room looked up in astonishment from their tables. Most had known the innkeeper for years, but few had ever seen her angry.
'She has gone too far this time!' Estah exclaimed furiously.
Jolle hurried into the common room. He took one look at his wife and, sensing something was terribly wrong, gave the signal. Instantly the inn's occupants leaped from their tables. The shutters were closed, the door locked, and lookouts headed upstairs to keep watch. Caledan entered as Jolle was trying in vain to calm down the healer.
'She has gone too far!' Estah repeated, her cheeks flushed. She snatched the board bearing Lord Cutter's Rules from the wall and flung it to the floor.
'Ravendas?' Caledan ventured, his expression grim. Look at this,' Estah said, her voice trembling as she thrust a crumpled-up piece of parchment toward Caledan. 'I saw it just a few minutes ago, posted in the free market.' Caledan unfolded the parchment. It was an official notice. Quickly he read it, his heart sinking.
'What's going on?' Mari asked as she descended the stairs. She and Caledan usually kept out of the common room, but the commotion had brought her down. Caledan handed the parchment to her, and she read the declaration with a solemn face.
'It looks like Ravendas has arranged a bit of entertainment for the city,' he said, gritting his teeth. 'There's going to be a public hanging tomorrow afternoon. One of the criminals to be executed is an old friend of ours. His name is Ferret.'
Estah sank down into a chair. All the spirit seemed to go out of her, and she buried her face in her hands.
'It's all right, wife, I'm here,' Jolle said, holding her shoulders tightly. 'All's going to be well. You'll see.'
Estah wiped her eyes with the corner of her skirt. 'I'm sorry, husband. I'm weary, that's all. I'm just so weary of Ravendas ruining everything that I care about.' She shook her head. 'She's wounded this city so deeply, I wonder if we will ever be able to heal it'
Mari looked at Caledan, her face tense. The message was clear: We have to do something.
He nodded. There was no question about it. Ferret had once been one of his best, if not most trustworthy, friends. He was not about to let Ravendas claim another member of the Fellowship.
'Estah,' Caledan said gravely, kneeling down to talk to the healer, 'Ferret got us out of more scrapes than I can count during those years we all traveled together. We both owe our lives to him, several times over. This is the time for us to repay him. We can't lose hope.
'Still, a little extra help wouldn't hurt,' Caledan went on, standing up. 'Estah, you said once that Tyveris still lived near the city. Can you tell me how I might find him?'
'I think so,' Estah ventured, 'but…'
'No buts,' Caledan said, striking his palm with a fist. 'If we're really going to rescue Ferret, we're going to need that warrior's sword.'
Caledan rode through the New City toward Iriaebor's north gate, keeping the hood of his blue traveling cloak drawn over his head. It seemed as if city guards were more common than rats these days, and he had no doubt they were still searching for him and the Harper. It had felt a little strange donning the old cloak that morning, knowing that Cormik's young apprentice, Dario, had died wearing it. But Cormik had given it back to Caledan after Dario's body had been returned to the city for burial. And Caledan couldn't bring himself to throw the cloak away. He had worn it for too many years, on too many journeys.
A trio of guards were keeping watch over the city's north gate. They might have given Caledan some trouble, but they were distracted by a flock of sheep being driven into the city for slaughter. The sheep balked as a red- faced peasant man tried futilely to herd them through the gates. The scene erupted into a cacophony of bleating and cursing. Caledan took the opportunity to slip through the gates unnoticed.
'Remind me to be grateful the next time I eat mutton stew,' Caledan commented to Mista as they left the walls of the city behind. The gray mare replied with a snort that sounded uncannily like laughter.
The day was fine and clear and the midday sun warm.
Caledan breathed deeply as he rode across plains that were in midst of taking on spring's brilliant hues. It was good to get out of the city.
