“So you did it!” he said, hugging her. “Congratulations! That’s wonderful.”
“Me?” Fabia’s eyes were deep tarns of innocence. “Why do you think I had anything to do with it?”
“Your hair is damp and you smell of Wrogg.”
She practically spat at him. “You are an absolutely infuriating man, Benard Celebre! One moment you are totally obtuse and the next you are sharper than Horth.”
He spread his big mouth in a grin. “It was Orlad who saw that Dantio wouldn’t be asking for your help last night unless he needed it. You’re not worried I’m going to start boasting about my sister the Chosen, are you? Other people might not understand.”
“And you do?”
He didn’t, but he would trust her motives until he had reason not to. “Remember the day we met? Ingeld asked which goddess I would model on you?”
She raised two perfectly shaped eyebrows. “You told her Hrada.”
“I had to say something.”
“You guessed even then?” she asked skeptically.
“I suspected. I knew it wasn’t one of the Bright Ones.”
“I look evil, do I?”
“No, no, no!” He raked fingers through his hair. “I’m no good with words. The Bright Ones’ cultists are… monochrome. Orlad is all ferocity. Dantio is pure nosiness. Love or war or law… I couldn’t tie you down like that. You’re a rainbow, a dark rainbow, all indigo, maroon, olive, walnut… But you’re not, um, dull enough to be an extrinsic. I can’t tell you. I’d have to paint it.” He was happy to see her smile return. “It’s wonderful, Fabia! There’s an old saying that two gods are better than one. We have four!”
She kissed his stubbled cheek. “Then I won’t blast you with my evil eye. We can talk on the boat. I’ll talk, you draw.”
“Benard!” Ingeld was calling and beckoning from the fire pit benches.
He remembered that Horold was coming and trotted over to where she stood alongside a seated woman- elderly, small, and disheveled. Her dress was tattered and one side of her face had been badly scarred since he had last seen her. Ingeld started to introduce him.
“Mistress Lonia!” He dropped to his knees. “I was horrified when my brother told us of your plight.”
She smiled with grace. “And I worried about you, Master Artist. I was most relieved when I saw last night that you and the dynast were both alive and well.”
“You know each other?” Ingeld seemed surprised, as if Benard did not know every face in Kosord.
“Well, I didn’t know until last night that she was a Witness, but Mistress Lonia gave me one of my first commissions.”
“Not quite, my lady,” the seer said. “I asked young Master Artist Benard to make a mural in my home. When I told him I couldn’t afford the gift of silver he asked in return, he said he would do it anyway and I could give him whatever I liked.”
Ingeld chuckled. “Yes, you do know Benard.”
“In the end she gave me even more than I’d asked,” Benard countered. “I can tell an honest face.”
“So what did you do with it? No, don’t tell me.”
“It’s all right, I don’t remember.”
A Werist ran by. “Time to go, ladies! The monsters are coming.” It was Waels, the beautiful one.
“Benard,” Ingeld said. “Witness Tranquility is somewhat frail after her ordeal, and she still has a length of chain attached to her ankle, so I wondered-”
“My pleasure!” Benard scooped her up, chain and all, and strode off across the clearing. He grinned down at her. “You need fattening up, Witness!”
She laughed. “I feel like a child who has been lost and found. You Celebres don’t lack for brawn, I must say.”
“Orlad cheats,” Benard said. “I’m the real beef. Dantio has the family brains.” Fabia, he suspected, was more dangerous than any of them. “What happened after we left Kosord? How long was the satrap distracted by Nymph Hiddi?”
The old lady simpered, almost smirked. “She kept him very busy for two days and three nights, then took fright. I think she worried that his men would kill her. So she ran away-actually, she jumped on a boat going downstream, but only we Witnesses knew that. Horold regained his wits, discovered, er, um, the dynast’s absence, and came charging into the duty room. Sensing his anger, I had sent everyone else away. When I said I didn’t know where you were-which I didn’t, because you were out of my range by then-he struck me.” Her fingers touched the fading red scars on her cheek.
Benard said, “Monster!” The satrap must weigh four times what she did.
“In a way,” the old woman said. “In another way it was a good thing. We’ve been hoping for years that something like that would happen.”
“Horold broke the treaty?” asked Ingeld, who was hurrying along at their side, hard put to keep up with Benard’s pace.
“Yes he did! If any of us had lied to him, we would have been anathematized, but the moment a Werist knocked me down, the pact was shattered.”
That ought to mean that Dantio was now safe. Horold had broken the compact first.
The boat was in sight now, beyond shrubs and spindly trees. It had been launched; crew and passengers were boarding. Other riverfolk had taken alarm, and two boats were heading upstream, being rowed in the calm.
“So the satrap beat our destination out of you?” Benard asked.
The Witness sighed. “I am afraid he did, because I had seen you go off downstream and did not know you had doubled back until I saw you here last night. Trying to lie, I told him the truth-praise the All-Seeing.”
“Then holy Demern was rendering justice!” Benard said firmly. “Today Horold meets his doom.”
“How close is he now?” Ingeld asked.
“About halfway from his camp,” the seer said. “He has his men spread out in a line, all the way across the islands, so they cannot move very fast.”
“And New Dawn?”
“There’s several sixty sweaty men coming down the Milky, but they won’t be here for at least a pot-boiling. We can get away, but I’m very much afraid the satrap will, too. If he takes fright and heads downstream, then he’ll have a fast run back to Kosord.”
Benard thought, Ridiculous! A Werist running away? Then he recalled that the boar was a cunning beast. Horold must believe he was very close to his dread sister, and to turn up at Tryfors without orders, chasing a runaway wife he hadn’t found yet, would be a major provocation. Worse, he certainly would not want to confess to Saltaja that he’d broken the precious compact with the Witnesses. Having done so he had effectively blinded himself, so he could never hope to find Ingeld. He might see Tranquility’s escape as a face-saving excuse to run back to the safety of Kosord. Yes, Horold might well give up and go home.
And that would be a disaster!
The path narrowed between tall trees and for a moment Ingeld fell back out of earshot. “Do I still have seasoning?” he asked quietly.
The old seer twitched in surprise. “Mist told you about that?”
“Do I?”
She nodded.
He said, “Thanks,” but he wished she had said no.
Free Spirit was a roiling mass of confusion. All the gear had been thrown in higgledy-piggledy. The sailors were burrowing under the heap to find the sweeps, which they then hauled out and swung around to set in the thole pins, narrowly avoiding braining bystanders. Most of the passengers were trying to stay out of the way, but a couple of Werists were holding tight to the shrubbery to keep the boat from drifting. As Orlad was helping Ingeld board, Benard stepped between two bushes and passed Tranquility across to big Snerfrik, who had to release a branch to take her.
Benard slipped back and sank down prone behind the bushes. He hid his face and lay very still. Most people never saw what was right in front of their eyes, and the simple trick worked perfectly. In the confusion of departure,
