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too long.
Hope so. His eyes dropped to the two empty water bottles. A third-still
full-was fastened to his saddlebags.
Ahead, the trail seemed to wind over and around yet another set of
brown-grassed hills. With each hill they passed, another set appeared, almost
as. if they stretched to a horizon they would never reach. The last tree had
been kays behind them, not all that far from Syskar.
Have faith, Ayrlyn said with a laugh.
I have faith. Faith that everything will work out in the most difficult
manner possible.
That s skepticism, not faith.
I have faith in skepticism.
Tonsar cleared his throat but said nothing.
From the riders behind came a low hum of words barely above a mumble, words
their speakers did not wish to reach their leaders. Nylan could guess at the
general tone and content.
Nylan had drunk a third of the last water bottle, and the sun hung nearly
overhead when the trail suddenly dipped into a depression, not quite a gorge
because the slopes remained mostly grass-covered, with some smooth boulders
protruding in places where the narrow and winding stream had undercut the
ground.
See? Ayrlyn grinned at Nylan.
So Siplor, he was right, said Tonsar.
Good. Nylan glanced south and then west, but nothing moved. There were
only the brown-covered hills and the sun-and them.
Make sure that all the water bottles are filled-upstream from here-and all
the mounts fully watered, ordered Ayrlyn.
It s going to take awhile, noted Nylan, with a glance at the stream, not
more than a cubit wide. And we d better use whatever you call that water
ordering.
I d planned to.
Tonsar turned his mount and stood in his stirrups. Watering time! Take
turns! Do not foul the water, and fill your bottles upstream. Keep your
mounts hoofs out of the stream!
A low murmuring rose and faded. The burly armsman eased his mount back
toward the two angels.
This is the last stream, then? Nylan dismounted and stood on the dusty
bank beside a scrubby gray-leafed bush while the mare drank.
That s what the map says, Ayrlyn said after dismounting. It vanishes a
few kays south of here, and the trail turns west and intersects the main road
from Lornth to someplace called Syadtar. The mines are on the road, and I d
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guess it was once a trading road before the Cyadorans closed off free
trading.
Nylan looked at Tonsar.
The armsman spread both hands. I do not know. I am from north of Lornth,
closer to Carpa. Siplor, he be from a hamlet east of Clynya, and he says that
there are no more streams, but&
Nylan unstrapped his three water bottles and glanced toward Ayrlyn. You
want to watch the mounts while I refill ours?
You can carry six?
I ll manage.
Three water bottles each? Tonsar balanced on a thin strip of gravel
beside where his gray slurped up the stream.
It s cooler where we come from, said Nylan. Remember?
But this& this is not even full summer.
I can t wait, said Ayrlyn dryly.
Nylan carried the bottles southward, upstream, trying to ignore the
commotion behind him. Stop mucking the water, Ungit&
& keep that beast s ass away from the water&
& take the reins& get water for us both&
Whhheeeeee& eeeee&
Nylan shut out the noise and concentrated on filling each water bottle and
using his control of the order fields to ease the residual
chaos-bacteria?-from each.
When they resumed riding, heading westward, Tonsar began to study the
horizon, then the trail behind, then the trail ahead, then to stand in the
stirrups and peer ahead again. Settle down, Tonsar, Ayrlyn suggested mildly.
South of the mines, that is where we will end up, predicted Tonsar as the
short column continued westward on the trail that might have once been a road.
And there will be white demons everywhere.
We re already south of the copper mines, Ayrlyn answered, and we haven t
seen a single white demon. We won t, either. Not unless we see a huge cloud of
dust, and if they have that many riders, they won t be able to keep up with
us.
Tonsar pointed westward, toward a spiral of dust. The white demons& at
least we will perish with honor.
Ayrlyn s eyes semiglazed, and she swayed in the saddle as the mare carried
her westward and as Nylan eased closer to her. He always worried when she did
that.
After a time, she straightened and turned to the burly armsman. Tonsar,
that s just a dust devil. Besides, with what we re working on, if the
Cyadorans aren t afraid of us yet, they will be.
Despite the heat, Nylan almost shivered at the healer s words, words
uncharacteristic of a healer, but getting to be more characteristic of Ayrlyn.
Was that what Candar was doing to them-turning them harder and colder? Did
they have much choice if they wanted to survive?
He wondered about Istril s visions& and her faith that Nylan could provide
a better life for Weryl. So far& Weryl probably would have been better off in
Westwind-but that hadn t ever been the question. It was what would have
happened as the silver-haired boy grew older. But how often did people
sacrifice the present for the future? And how wise was that when there might
not be a future?
Forcing his thoughts back to the road and what they needed to find, he
glanced at Ayrlyn. There s scarcely any wind. Why&
A dust devil?
He nodded.
You get swirls out of the air above, because of the heating and some of
the colder winds out of the Westhorns. I m guessing, but it s sometimes like
an inversion, and the colder air presses through& or something. I d guess that
the winter winds here are something. Probably not too cold, but strong, and
then there are drenching thunderstorms in the spring. That s what supports the
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grass. Then it dries, and - Ayrlyn smiled brightly- it starts all over again.
The horse nomads left because of the winds. That was what my grandmother
said, Tonsar volunteered.
Almost as suddenly as it had appeared, the distant dust devil vanished.
I have a question, Tonsar, Nylan said quietly.
Ser?
About Sylenia. How do you feel about her?
Tonsar swallowed again. After a moment, he coughed, then shrugged. I like
her. I like her very much. Is that wrong?
She seems like a good young woman.
Her man was Yusek. He died on the Roof of the World. Her little girl died
of the chaos fever. That is why she can be a nursemaid. Tonsar wiped his
forehead, something Nylan hadn t seen from the burly armsman before. She was
close to Enyka.
Enyka? asked Ayrlyn.
My sister. She went to Rulyarth with Gidser when ser Gethen and Lord
Sillek opened the port to our traders. Tonsar swallowed. Gidser says that
trading is easier there.
Do you have a consort? Nylan asked bluntly.
Me? No, ser. It is a long tale, and once I almost did, but she left me for
a merchant, like Enyka took Gidser. Armsmen, they do not find consorts
easily. Tonsar offered a wary smile. Nylan could sense the other s
apprehension, but not the chaos that seemed to go with deceit. His eyes
crossed Ayrlyn s, and she nodded.
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