Fotir was smiling now, regarding her with astonishment. “Why are you doing this?”
Their eyes met, and Keziah realized she was grinning stupidly. “Why do you think?”
Tavis looked from Fotir to Keziah and then back again, amusement and puzzlement on his scarred face. “What do you think of all this, First Minister?” he asked. “After what I said today about not collecting ministers as if they were Sanbiri swords, can I really add another to my court?”
The minister didn’t take his eyes off of her, but he began to laugh. “I’m not certain that I can offer an objective opinion on this, my lord.”
“Then don’t.”
At that, Fotir turned to the young duke, gratitude written on his features. He really was quite handsome. “Yes, my lord, I think you can.”
“Very well.” Tavis faced Keziah once more. “Welcome to the Curgh court, Minister.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
“I suppose this means that you won’t be riding south with your brother.”
“My brother?” she said.
“Yes. He’s leaving with the king tomorrow.”
It made sense. No doubt Grinsa was eager to return to Cresenne and Bryntelle. But there was something in the duke’s tone …
“You haven’t spoken to him,” Tavis said.
“No, my lord.”
“I think you should. He’s in his chamber, I believe, preparing for his journey.”
Keziah started to leave the chamber, then faltered, meeting Fotir’s gaze.
“It’s all right,” he said. “We’ll talk later.”
She nodded and went in search of her brother. There was a knot in her stomach, though she wasn’t sure why. Reaching his chamber, she found the door ajar. She knocked once before stepping inside.
Grinsa was bent over his travel sack, but he straightened at the sight of her. His face was pale, his expression grim. Keziah shuddered and crossed her arms over her chest.
“You’re leaving,” she said.
“Yes. I’m riding south with you and the king.”
“I’m not going south.”
He frowned. “You’re not?”
“I’m no longer archminister.”
“What?”
“It was my choice. I can’t serve Kearney anymore. It’s just too difficult.”
“Where will you go?”
A small smile touched her lips. “I’m staying here in Curgh.”
“Oh, Kezi,” he said, taking her in his arms. “That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day.” He looked down at her. “Fotir’s a good man.”
“Who said anything about Fotir?”
He raised an eyebrow.
“It’s not fair,” she said. “How is it that I can never surprise you?”
“You have surprised me, again and again. You surprised me when you risked your life to deceive the Weaver, and again when you suggested that we strike at him through your dreams the night before the battle. And you surprised me just now. A year ago you wouldn’t have been able to make such a choice.”
“I think you’re right.”
He took her hand and kissed it. “I’m going to miss you.”
“Just because I’m no longer archminister doesn’t mean that I can’t visit Audun’s Castle.”
“I won’t be staying in Audun’s Castle.”
Keziah shivered again. “Tell me,” she said, not wanting to hear.
“It’s nothing you don’t already know. Cresenne is a prisoner of the realm, and I’m a Weaver. We have no future here-certainly Bryntelle doesn’t.”
“But the war is over. Surely you have nothing more to prove to Kearney and the rest. And Cresenne has suffered enough for what she did.”
“There are many who would disagree with you. I love her, but if I didn’t, I’m not sure that I’d want to see her go free. As for me, the law is quite clear on what’s to be done with Weavers.”
“Kearney can change the law! I’ll talk to him!” She was shaking once more. She had finally found the strength to live without Kearney. But how could she ever live without Grinsa?
He touched her cheek, looking at her with so much love. “I don’t want you to talk to him.”
“Then what are you going to do?”
“Something I’ve always dreamed of doing. We’re going to the Southlands.”
“The Southlands?” she said, her voice hardly more than a whisper. “How?”
“I don’t know yet. I expect we can find a merchant ship to take us. There are still a few Qirsi ships that sail beyond Sanbira on the Sea of Stars. Or maybe we’ll cross the Border Range. We’ve still several turns before the snows.”
“Does Cresenne know?”
“Not yet. But aside from Bryntelle and me, there’s nothing holding her here.”
“The Southlands,” she said again. Keziah had never thought that anyplace could sound so far away. She pressed her face against his chest, muffling her sobs. “I’ll never see you again.”
“You don’t know that. And besides, I’m a Weaver. I can always find my way into your dreams.”
“It’s not the same.”
“I know.”
“What will I do without you?”
“You’ll live a long, happy life. You’ll serve a young duke who may yet prove himself one of the great leaders this land has ever known. You’ll love a fine minister who will be devoted to you. And you’ll find that you’re stronger and more capable than you know.”
She smiled at him through her tears. “You gleaned all that?”
“I didn’t have to glean it. I know it in my heart.”
He kissed her forehead again, and Keziah held on to him as if she never intended to let go.
Chapter Twenty-eight
The journey southward from Curgh to Audun’s Castle took nearly half a turn. Grinsa understood that most of the king’s men were on foot, but still he found their pace maddeningly slow. Every day he found himself wishing that he could simply kick his mount to a gallop and cover the distance as swiftly as the beast could manage. But he remained a free man solely because Kearney had chosen to ignore Eibithar’s laws regarding Weavers, and it would have been inappropriate for him to ride ahead of the king.
As it was, all that made the long ride bearable was Tavis’s presence by his side. He had urged the young duke not to accompany him to the City of Kings.
“You’ve only just become duke,” he had said the morning they left, when Tavis appeared in the castle’s lower ward, dressed in rider’s garb. “You should remain here with your mother and your people.”
To which the boy had calmly replied, “I don’t want to. And anyway,” he added, “You made a promise.”
Grinsa still believed that Tavis should have stayed behind, but he was glad to have the young noble with him. They rode together each day, saying little, merely enjoying each other’s company.
One morning, as they passed near the banks of the Sussyn, Tavis suddenly asked, “Can a Weaver enter the dreams of anyone, or only a Qirsi?”
“I believe only a Qirsi. When I enter someone’s dreams, I touch their magic, just the way I would if I was weaving their power with my own. I don’t know how I could do that with an Eandi.” He glanced at the boy, sensing
