in no state to tackle the Edge.”
“What’s wrong with her? She’s no kitten, but she looks healthy.”
“She is with child. I think she is. Even if she isn’t, she’ll have to go back to Kosord soon, and she has Benard by a ring through his nose.”
That was obvious. “Your old man, then?”
“Horth is far too old.”
“Dantio?”
“I love your dry sense of humor! No, it’s up to you to escort me safely home, brother, and in return I will teach you the language. You were three years old, for gods’s sakes! You must have known lots of words. You’ve just forgotten them.”
Orlad ran a hand over his stubbled scalp. “I don’t understand. If you want a Werist to take you back to Celebre, why didn’t you agree to marry Cutrath Horoldson? He has the appeal of a dead toad, but he’s bigger and stronger than I am. He also has an army guarding him and you’ll have sex every night.”
His sister pulled a face. “Brawn may impress other men, but not women. You cannot seriously expect Celebre to accept a Stralg nephew as doge? You really-”
He just did not understand her. “Why go at all, then? Horth is rich, I’m told. You’re his heir, aren’t you? Why don’t you stay in Vigaelia and buy yourself whatever husband you fancy?”
“Duty!” She glared at him. “Don’t Werists know that word? Our family has ruled Celebre for centuries. It is my duty to go back and see if I can help the people.”
Did help mean rule? “My duty too?”
“That is what I have been trying to explain, Hero.”
“If I decide to go, I’ll let you come.”
She pouted. “How much do you know about the pass?”
“I don’t remember any more of our crossing than you do,” he admitted. “But I do know Nardalborg Pass as far as the Fist’s Leap. I helped rebuild the bridge there.”
“Then you’re hired,” she said.
That was probably a joke.
Fabia might be too devious ever to trust, but Orlad thought he could grow to like her, given time. Benard, on the other hand, was historically weird. Conversations with him made no sense at all.
“Orlad?” the big man said. “Or do I still have to call you ‘my lord’?”
“I suppose not.”
“Good. You used to call me Bena. That man with the birthmark?”
“Warrior Waels.”
“Would he take his clothes off for me if I asked him nicely?”
“He had them off earlier.”
“But I didn’t get a good look at him.”
Orlad mulled the query for a while, then asked, “I thought you were humping Ingeld, Bena?”
The artist promptly turned redder than Waels’s chin. “That wasn’t what I had in mind!”
“What did you have in mind, then?”
“Holy Cienu! He has such a wonderfully cute smile.”
Orlad gave up. “It isn’t worth the risk, Bena. Snerfrik plays that way sometimes, but if you suggest it to Waels he will disarticulate your skeleton.”
Benard frowned in annoyance.
Orlad said, “Did you really get Fabia out of a Werist dungeon last night?”
“No. It wasn’t a dungeon and I didn’t do anything you could understand.”
If Benard was bizarre, the Witness was downright spooky.
“Fabia wants me to take her back to Celebre, so she can wear the crown,” Orlad told him.
Dantio said, “Coronet.”
“Whatever. We’ll need permission from this Arbanerik oath-breaker?”
The seer gave him a wistful boy-girl smile. “I am sure the hordeleader will be happy to assist you. Anything that confounds Stralg is fine by him, and Cavotti can surely make good use of both of you, although perhaps not in ways you will like.”
Orlad wondered if he was being mocked. “You will be coming with us?”
“I’d like to, but it’s getting very late to start over the Edge. Every snow flurry will delay you. If you can’t make it in a thirty you won’t make it at all.”
“Nothing ventured, nothing won.”
“Spoken like a true Hero. Trouble is, I may not even have a thirty.”
“Because you lied to Saltaja? You’re serious about the curse thing?”
The seer stared at him with eyes as dark as his own. “It will take a thirty or longer for the news to reach Bergashamm, but as soon as Eldest LeAmber hears that I broke the compact, she will pronounce anathema on me. Then I die.”
“Right away?”
“Within a few days.”
“You drop dead, just like that?” Orlad asked skeptically. Holy Weru was known to strike men with thunderbolts, but not on request.
Dantio laughed oddly. “Dropping dead would be easy. You really don’t want to know the details.”
“Heroes don’t shock easy.”
“No? Well, then, it is known that when the Eldest pronounces anathema on a False Witness, the Goddess withdraws all the transgressor’s senses. I will be struck blind and deaf, unable to taste, smell, or feel anything. I will soon go mad, of course, locked up alone inside my skull. I will scream a lot, but I won’t hear my screams. I will thrash around and not know when I hurt myself. Eventually I will die of thirst, unable to know when to swallow.”
“That’s horrible!”
“This penalty keeps us from abusing the Lady’s gifts to us. Absolute wisdom is absolute temptation.”
“And you deliberately risked this punishment?”
“I invited it. It is not a risk. It is certain execution.”
Orlad decided he had to believe this. Holy Weru took his Heroes’ lives if they stayed in battleform too long at a time.
“You will die for revenge?”
“For justice, Orlando!” The eunuch’s face no longer seemed weak or effeminate, in fact his smile was as terrible as Weru’s. “For justice on all of them, the whole vile Hrag crew. For what they did to me and you and all of us and a million others. Given the same chance I had, would you find the price too high?”
“No, but I would rather die in battle.”
“Who wouldn’t? But families must hang together. If you will swear to kill me as soon as it happens, I will gladly come over Varakats Pass with you.” After a moment he said, “Well? Will you?”
“Break your neck, you mean?” Orlad would certainly want someone to do that for him under those circumstances.
“That will do nicely. Or just choke me. I won’t know the difference. Will you?”
“Yes. I promise.”
“Spoken like a true brother. Thank you.”
Weird.
The old man in the brass collar, the one they addressed as a packleader although he wore civilian clothes-he was obviously an oath-breaker. So was Orlad, of course, although his liege had broken faith with him first. They were all oath-breakers, even the mysterious Arbanerik. But old Guthlag did know some good stories. He joined the other Heroes amidships for a while and told them about the fall of Kosord and the coming of Stralg; and how Ingeld had been forced to marry Horold Hragson.
Yes, talking with other Werists was easier, and his flank-mates were best of all. Waels was Tryfors born, so the next time they were close, Orlad asked if he’d ever heard of High Timber. He knew Waels well enough by now to guess from his smile that something interesting was coming. Cute, Benard had called that smile; Waels would kill
