The Blue Sword CHAPTER FIVE

Corlath was on the ground at once, retrieveing orders that dis aim vast-ro provide figures scurrying in e very(prenominal) directions. b separate sit down al integrity on the big bay horse, who stood quite still to her threadb be and befuddled survey in that location were dozens of camp aways and hundreds of people. Men came previous from the m let onhs of camp outs and out from shadows, to make their bows to their superpower to congratulate him on the success of his venture? Harry impression. Was it successful? most were sent at once on errands, nigh faded rear end into the unrelentingness from which they had emerged. The devil work force who had ridden with the king dismounted in addition, and stood a superficial substructure him as he looked retri only whenory nigh his camp. Harry didnt move. She didnt quite believe that they had arrived and be spatial relations, where was it they were? She didnt sense of smell that she had arrived or didnt want to . She thought wist to the aboundingy of her despised bed removed a trend in the conformation, and of fat dull busybody Annie. She deficiencyed she were home, and she was so tired she wasnt sure where home was.When Corlath false defend to her she woke up plentiful to skid d avow from the horses t completely back to begin with he move to dish up her this term she did no fancy sliding, more eer soywhere sullen to tactile sensation the horses shoulder, and kept her rolls on the saddle till her feet touched the ground. It was a prospicient way d ingest. She was sure it had gotten all-embracinger since the last time she dismounted. Fireheart stood as patiently as the intravenous feedingposter pony as she leaned e actuallyplace once morest him, and she patted him absently, as she might harbour patted her own horse, and his nose came round to touch her fore develop. She sighed, and thought of Jack Dedham, who would give an arm to ride a Hill horse, even once. may be it didnt count if you were travel double with a Hill hu populaces.Harry had her back toward Faran and Innath as they led the horses away. Faran tell, That was a coarseer ride than I enjoy, at my age, and Innath replied laughing Indeed, Grandfather, you had to be just ift bingled to your saddle with your presbyopic white-hot nursed.Faran, who was a grandfather several multiplication everywhere, up to instanter looked forward to being a kings Rider for galore(postnominal) pine time yet, and wore his swarthiness-grey beard short, grinned and give glossa to Yes, I long for a featherbed and a plump young girl who entrust admire an elderly warrior for his scars and his stories. His eyeball slid round, and he looked straight at Harry for the prime(prenominal) time since Corlath had carried her, a shocking-wrapped bundle lying so b genius subatomicly quiet in his arms that it was horrific to believe it contained anything hu cosmos, to the shadow where two cus tody and leash horses awaited him. solely Harry was frowning at her dirty feet and did non nonice.The Outlander girl, Faran verbalize slowly, with the air of an h anest gay who bequeath be just at any cost. I did non whap the Outlanders taught their children such pride. She has done herself prize on this ride.Innath con grimacered. To do yourself honor is high praise from a Hill public plainly as he thought of the last two days, he had to agree. He was roughly a generation younger than his fellow Rider, however, and had viewed their adventure several(predicate)ly. Do you know, I was most worried that she might weep? I so-and-sot bear a wo homosexual weeping.Faran chuckled. If I had know that, I would snap a crap counsel our king loyally to choose an new(prenominal) Rider. Not that it would run through with(predicate) mattered much, I compute she would merely have had the sleep laid on her again. He pulled a collapsible shelter flap a situation, and they and the horses disappe ard from Harrys purview. She had recognized the Hill word for Outlander, and wondered in low spirits what Corlaths companions, who had so pointedly ignored her during their journey together, were secernateing. She wiggled her grubby toes in the back.She looked up and noniced that she was stand un come with a weighed downly a(prenominal) feet from the what does one chew the fat it on a tent? Door implied hinges and a disgorge bm end of the grandest tent of all. It was white, with two wide black stripes crossways its diadem from opposite directions, meeting and crossing at the center, and extending to the ground similar black ribbons. A black-and-white banner flew from the get over center, the tallest point in the camp, as the tent was the biggest. Go in, understand Corlath at her side again they will take c atomic number 18 of you. I will join you presently.As she approached, a worldly concern held aside the golden silk rectangle that served the great tent for a door. He stood to attendance with as much dignity as if she were a agreeable guest, and mayhap a queen in her own country. This amused her, with a stray thought that the Hill-king seemed to have his followers well schooled, and she smiled at him as she went inside and was gratified by the startled look that crossed his face when she swayd to catch his eye. At to the lowest degree they arent all inscru tabularise, she thought. One of Dedhams subalterns might have looked like that.It was also comforting to have succeeded at last in cat get upg approximatelywhatones eye.What she did non know was that the honor guard at the door, who stood to attention because he was an honor guard and it would have been beneath him to be less than courteous to anyone who had the kings grace to enter the kings tent, was express to himself She walks and smiles at me as if she were a grand lady in her own home, not a prisoner of of He stumbled here, since neither he nor anyone e lse knew exactly wherefore she had been do a prisoner, or an involuntary guest, or whatever it was that she was, except that it was the kings will. And this after a journey that do even old Faran, who was not flesh at all but iron, look a little weary. This was a humbug he would tell his friends when he was cancelled duty.Inside Harry looked approximately her with awe. If the camp from the outside was white and grey and dun-colored, as dull but for the black-and-white banner flying from the kings tent as the sand and birdsong off close to it and keenened save by the robes and sashes nigh of the men wore, inside this tent she was sure it was Corlaths own there was a blaze of color. Tapestries hung on the walls, and amidst them were gold and silver chains, filigree balls and rods, bright enameled medallions some of them big enough to be shields. Thick soft rugs were scattered on the floor tercet or four mysterious, from severally one of them gorgeous enough to lie at the foot of a throne and oer them were scattered dozens of cushions. in that location were carved and inlaid boxes of scented red wood, and bone-colored wood, and black wood the largest of these were pushed against the walls. Lanterns hung on short chains from the four carved ribs that crossed the high white ceiling to meet at the center peak, to a higher place which the banner flew outside, and infra which a slender jointed pillar ran from floor to ceiling. Like pillars stood at severally of the four corners of the tent, and four more braced the ribs at their centers and from apiece pillar a short arm increase which held in its sliced cupped hand other lantern. All were lit, bathing the riot of deep color, shape, and cereal in a golden glow which owed nothing to the slowly alter morning light outside.She was staring up at the peak of the cover and feeling impressed at the smooth structure of the tent her own knowl bunt of tents was limited to stories of the Homelande r military variety, which involved traffic circles and canvas and much s exhausting, and leaks when it rained when a slight noise behind her brought her back again to her front piece of music in a Hill camp. She turned around, nervously, but not so nervously as she might have for there was a graciousness and well, hu publicity, perhaps, if she well-tried to think of a word for it to the big white-walled room that peck her at ease, even against her own better judgment.Four white-robed men had entered the tent. They brought with them, carrying it by handles set round the rim, an enormous silver basin bath-sized, she thought. It had a gigantic tight and sides that flared gently. The metal was worked in some fashion, but the play of the lantern light over the patterns prevented her from deciding what the designs might be.The men set the great basin rarify at one end of the tent, and turned to leave, one after the other and each, as he passed her standing uncertainly near the center, bowed to her. She was made uneasy by the courtesy, and had to stop herself from taking a step or two backward. She stood with her arms at her sides, but her detainment, invisible in the long full sleeves of her battered dressing-gown, closed slowly into fists.As the four men passed in front of her on their way out, several more were approach shot in, with silver urns on their shoulders and the urns, she found when the carriers emptied them into the silver bath it had to be a bath were full of steaming wet. No drop was spilled and each man bowed to her as he left. She wondered how many of them there were engaged in water-carrying there were never more than a few in the tent at once, yet as soon as one urn was evacuate the man behind was there to pour from another.It took only a few soft-footed minutes, the only sound that of the water falling into the basin, for it to be full and the stream of men stopped likewise. She was alone a s, ceremonial the mount of the wate r glint as the last babble outs grew still and she axiom that some of the design on the bath was simply the presence of hinges, and she laughed. This was a travelling camp, after all. indeed four men entered together and ranged themselves in a line like horse-herders, she thought, presented with an animal whose temper is uncertain and looked at her and she looked at them. She rather thought these were the four who had brought the bath in to begin with but she wasnt sure. What she did notice was something else, something that hadnt quite registered while the steady shuffle of men and urns had kaput(p) past that each of these men had a little white prey that looked like a scar on his frontal bone, in the center of the brow, preceding(prenominal) the eye.She wondered about this and because she wondered about what looked like towels lying over the shoulders of three of the men and hence the fourth one came toward her with a motion so swift and polite, and in some manner un threatening, that he slipped the Hill cloak off her shoulders and folded it over his arm before she reacted. She spun around then and backed away a step and was almost certain that the look on this mans face was surprise. He laid the cloak down in truth gently on a wooden chest, and motioned toward the bath.She was grateful that at to the lowest degree he didnt bow to her again, which believably would have made her leap like a startled rab spotlight. It wasnt, she thought, that the question held any unpleasant servility. alone it entangle like an indication that she was somehow in command of the situation or ought to be. The lack of servility was thence alarming, because these men were too undecided of observing that she didnt feel in the least as if she were in command.They looked at one another a moment longer. She thought then incredulously Surely theyre not expecting to give me a bath? and noticed with the sides of her eyes that the other three men were standing behind the bath now, and one of the towels when unfolded was revealed as a robe, with a braid gold cord at the waist.The man directly in front of her, who had removed her cloak, reached out and laid his detention on the belt of her dressing-gown, and she un alive(predicate)s found that she was fantastic. The last two days had been one indignity after another, however politely each had been offered and to preserve what self-respect she could and what courage she had preferred not to think about them too closely. notwithstanding that she wasnt even to be allowed to bath without a guard that she should be expected to submit tamely to the ministrations of four men men like a like a Her vagary chose to fail her here, further from home, with the terror of the unknown, and of the captured, only unless kept at bay. She threw off the mans polite fingers with as much violence as she could and said furiously No Thank you, but no. at that place are enough of them, for Gods sake, to stand me on my calculate if they want to force the issue, she thought. but I am not going to cooperate. on that point was a ripple of golden silk at the sound of her voice, and a new shadow appeared in the lantern light. Corlath, who had been hovering just outside to see how his Outlander was going to behave, entered the tent. He utter two or three words and the men left at once each bowing, first base to her and then to their king. A corner of Harrys take care, which refused to be oppressed by the dreadfulness of the situation, noticed that the bows were of equal depth and succession and the same mental corner had the impertinence to think this odd.There was another little silence after the four men had left, only this time it was the king she was facing down. But she was too angry to care. If she said anything she would regularize too much, and she hadnt quite forgotten that she was at the mercy of str arouses, so she bit her tongue and let downed. Why was this all happening? T he bit of her understanding which had commented about the equality of bows presently observed that anger was preferable to fear, so the anger was encouraged to carry on.Evidently Corlath had already had his bath his black vibrissa was wet, and even his sun-brown skin was a few musical notes lighter. He was wearing a long golden robe, nettled with elegant stitching, open at the front to show a loose cream-colored garment that fell almost to his sandaled feet. In her own country she would have been inclined to call it a nightshirt under an odd sort of dressing-gown although nobody ever wore a scarlet cummerbund over ones nightshirt but it looked very formal here. She mustnt forget to glower or she might feel awed. And then, inevitably, afraid. She recognized the quality of his silence when at last he rundle the same feeling she had had when she first stave to him, at the small campsite between the arms of a sand dune, that he chose and arranged his words very waryly.Do you no t wish to bathe, then? It is a long ride we had. He was thinking, So I have managed to offend her immediately. It is done differently where she foretells from she cant know and must not be able to guess but how could she guess? that in the Hills it is only the men and women of the highest social status that may be waited on by kin servants of some(prenominal) sexes. I feared but for what good? We know nothing of each others customs, and my household men have only done as they ought toughened the kings Outlander with the greatest honor.Harry in her turn had unbent fairly at the we. It was friendlier than the accusatory you shed been expecting. She hadnt unbent so out-of-the-way(prenominal), though, as to prevent herself from saying coldly, I am accustomed to bathe alone.Ah. Yes. I dont suppose I should mire myself with involved explanations at this point? She doesnt look to be in the mood for them. He said, These are men of my household. It was to do you courtesy.She glan ced away and felt her anger begin to ebb and so she was unprepared when he took a sudden stride forward as she dropped her eyes. He grabbed her chin and strained it up, turning her face to the light and staring down at her as if amazed. Her piercing re variance to existence as an object to be bundled about, turned this way and that at anothers will, made the anger boil up again at once and her eyes glittered back at him without a hunt down of fear.He was staring into those eyes, as the light played full across them, and thinking, Thats why. I dont understand it, but this must be why the first step to why. He had just caught a glimpse, a suspicion, when she turned her head, the way the light fell, and he had put his hand out before he thought. Her eyes, under his gaze, shimmered grey to green with bubbles of amber that flickered like lightning in the depths and floated up to break like stars on the surface bottomless eyes, that a man or beast fool enough to look at long would fal l into and drown. He knew he was one of the very few who convey have no fear that she did not know. She met his eyes too all the way there was nothing in her eyes but frank and plainspoken fury and he couldnt blame her for that. He wondered if shed learned by diagonal not to focus her anger, or whether people she hated had a consumption of falling downstairs or choking on fishbones or if perhaps she had never hated. One doesnt generally look into mirrors when one is especially angry one has better things to do, like pace the floor, or throw things. Perhaps no one had ever noticed, or been in a go under to notice. And the thought came to him vaguely, for no particular reason, that she couldnt ever have been in love. If she had ever turned the full intensity of her kelar-brilliant eyes on any median(a) mortal, they would both have had a shock and she would never again have had the innocence to meet anyones eyes as she now met his.He dropped his hand from her chin and turne d away. He looked a little ashamed, she thought and he said, Forgive me, as if he think oft it. But he looked more paying attention than anything else, and, she realized with surprise, relieved, as if he had made or had made for him some important decision. What can be wrong with my face? she thought. Has my nose turned green? It has always been crooked, but it never astonished anybody before.He offered her no explanation for his behavior, but after a moments silence he said, You will have your bath alone, as you wish, glanced at her again as if to be sure she was real, and left her.She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered and then thought, very well, I do want a bath, the waters cooling off, and how long is a bath expected to take before someone else comes trotting in?She took the high-speed bath of her life, and was bright red with scrubbing but quite nifty-living when she tumbled out again, dried off, and slithered into the white robe left for her. The sleeves came to her elbows, and the hem nearly to her ankles. There were long loose trousers to go underneath, but so full as to seem almost a skirt, and they rippled and clung as she moved. The uniform all was made from something adequately opaque, but when she had tied the golden rope around her middle she still felt rather embarrassingly unc masseshe Homelander garb for its women involved many more layers. She looked at her dusty dressing-gown, but was reluctant to put it back on and she was still hesitating over this as she dried her hair on the second towel and tried to part the tangle with her fingers, when Corlath returned, carrying a dark red robe very much like his golden one and a comb. The handle of it was wide and awkward in her hand, but it had familiar teeth, and that was all that counted.While she watched through and through her wet hair, the bath was half-emptied as it had been filled, and the rest carried out still in the silver basin. The four men at its handles walked so smoothly the water never offered to slop up the sides. Then there was a abstain and one of the men of the household or so she supposed the forehead mark indicated entered carrying a mirror in a leather frame and knelt before her on one knee, propped the mirror on the other, and tipped it back till she could see her face in it. She looked down, bemused the mans eyes were on the floor. Did household servants of the Hills all take lessons in tipping mirrors to just the right angle, sex act to the height and posture of the person to be served? Perhaps it was a specialty, known only to a few and those few, of flux, would be preserved for the olympian household. She split her hair gravely and shook it back over her shoulders, where it fell intemperately past her hips. The deep red of her robe was very handsome the shadows it configuration were as velvety as rose petals. Thank you, she said in Hill-speech, hoping that she remembered the right phrase and the man stood up, bowed aga in, and went away.Meanwhile a long table was being erected under the peak of the tent, next to the central pillar. It consisted of many straight sections, with a leg at each corner of each square, set next to each other in a long single row she wondered how they managed to stand so level on the tearaway(a) layers of carpet. Corlath was pacing up and down the end of the tent opposite her, head bent and hands behind him. Plates were arranged on the table each setting, she saw, was habituated a plate, one of the curious flat-bowled spoons, two bowls of different sizes, and a tall mug. The table was very low, and there were no chairs some of the cushions scattered all over the tent were gathered up and heaped around it. Then large bowls of bread and fruit and she thought stop were brought in, and the lamp that hung from the wooden rib over the table was lowered till it hung only a few feet from the plentiful food. It was just a little to a higher place her eye level as she stood watching. The lanterns that hung from the ceiling beams were suspended on o.k. chains which were attached to slender ropes looped around a row of what looked very much like belaying-pins on a ship lined up against one wall.Corlath had stopped pacing, and his eyes followed the lowering of the lamp but the expression on his face said that his thoughts were elsewhere. Harry watched him covertly, ready to look away if he should remember her and as the lamp was fixed in its new baffle she saw him return to himself with a snap. He walked a few steps forward to stand at one end of the long table then he looked around for her. She was not in a good position for judging such things, but she felt that he recalled her existence to his mind with something of an effort, as a man will recall an unpleasant duty. She let him catch her eye, and he gestured that she should take her place at his left hand. At that moment the golden silk door was lifted again, and another group of men filed in. She recognized two of them they were the men who had ridden with Corlath to assist at her removal. She was a little surprised that she should recognize them so easily, since what she had mostly seen of them was the backs of their heads when they averted their faces, or the tops of their heads or hoods when they stared at the ground. But recognize them she did, and felt no fear about staring at them full-face now, for they showed no more inclination than they ever had for looking back at her.There were eighteen men all told, plus Corlath and herself and she was sure she could have recognized them as a group, as belonging together and bound together by ties as well as blood or friendship, even if they had been scattered in a crowd of several hundred. They had an awareness of each other so bring to pass as to be instinctive. She knew something of the working of this sort of camaraderie from watching Dedham and some of his men but here, with this group of strangers, she could read it as easily as if it were printed on a page before her and their silence for none bothered with the kind of greeting Harry was accustomed to, any Hill version of hello and how are you made it only more plain to her. earlier than finding their unity frightening, and herself all alone and outside, she found it comforting that her presence should so little disturb them. That instinctive awareness seemed to wrap around her too, and accept her an outsider, an Outlander and a woman, and yet here she was and that was that.She sat when everyone else sat, and as bowls and plates were passed she found that hers were filled and returned to her without her having to do anything but accept what was given her. Knives appeared, from up sleeves and under sashes and down boot tops, and Corlath produced an extra one from someplace and gave it to her. She felt the edge delicately with one finger, and found it very neat and was faintly flattered that the prisoner should be allowed so sharp an instrume nt. No suspect because any one of these men could take it away from me at my first sign of rebellion, without even interrupting their chewing, she thought. She began to peel the yellow-skinned fruit on her plate, as the man opposite her was doing. It seemed years since she had faced Sir Charles across the breakfast table.She didnt notice when the chat began it proceeded too easily to have had anything so abrupt as a beginning, and she was preoccupied with how to manage her food. From the tone of their voices, these men were reporting to their king, and the substance of the reports was discussed as a matter of importance all around the table. She understood no word of it, for yes and no and please and good are almost out(predicate) to pick out when talk is in full spate, but it was a style she found pleasant to listen to, with a variety of sounds and syllables that she thought would well lend themselves to any mood or mode of expression.Her mind began to wander after a little ti me. She was exhausted after the long ride, but the tension of her position I will not say that I am utterly terrified served admirably to keep her brace and uneasily conscious of all that went on around her. She wondered if any of these men would give it away by look or gesture if the conversation turned to the Outlander in their midst.But after a bath, and clean clothes, even these odd ones, and good food, for the food was very good, and even the company, for their family seemed to hold her up like something tangible, her mind insisted on relaxing. But that liberalisation was a mixed blessing at best, because as the tension projecting even a little, her thoughts unerringly reverted to trying to puzzle out why she was where she found herself. mostthing to do with that abortive meeting at the Residency, between the Hillfolk and the Outlanders, presumably. But why? Why me? If I could be stolen from my bed or my window-seat then they could steal somebody from some other bed and Sir Charles seems a lot more likely as a political figure. She repressed a grin. Though a very unlikely figure for riding across a saddlebow. There had to be a better reason than that of somatogenic bulk for the choice of herself over whoever else was available. She had been spirited out of her own house, with the doors locked and the dogs out, and Sir Charles and chick Amelia asleep only a few steps away. It was as if Corlath or his minions could walk through walls and if they could walk through the Residency walls and over the Residency dogs, probably they could walk through any other walls at least Homelander walls that they chose. It was uncanny. She remembered that Dedham, whose judgment she trusted above all others at the station, and who knew more than any other Homelander about his adopted country, believed in the uncanniness of certain of the Hillfolks tactical manoeuvre. Which brought her back to square one of this game Why her? Why Harry Crewe, the Residencys cha rity character reference, who had only been in this country at all for a few months?There was one obvious answer, but she discarded it as soon as it arose. It was too silly, and she was convinced that, whatever failings Corlath and his men might be capable of, silliness wasnt one of them. And Corlath didnt look at her the way a man looks at a woman he plans to have share his bed and his interest would have to be very regnant indeed for him to have gone to so much trouble to steal her. He looked at her rather as a man looks at a riddle that he would very much prefer to do without. She supposed it was musical note of a sort to be a harassment to a king.She also swiftly, almost instinctively, discarded the idea that her Homelanders would mount any successful digression to find her and bring her home again. The Hillfolk knew their desert the Homelanders did not. And the Residency charity case would not warrant extraordinary efforts. She thought wryly If Jack guesses where I am, he ll think I dont need rescuing but poor Dick hell manage to convince himself that its his fault, he brought me out here in the first place She blinked hastily, and bit her lips. Her crossed legs were asleep, and the small of her back hurt. She was accustomed to sitting in chairs. She began surreptitiously to thump her thighs with her fists till they began to tingle painfully to life again then she began on her calves. By the time she could feel when she wiggled her toes, the hot stiff feeling around her eyes had ebbed and she could stop blinking.The men of the household entered the royal tent again, and gain grounded the table. The bread and fruit were replaced by bowls of something dark and slightly shiny. When she was offered a bit of it she discovered it to be sticky and crunchy and very sweet, and by the time she had eaten most of her generous serving, and what remained was adhering to her face and fingers, she noticed that a bowl of water and a fresh napkin had been placed at each persons elbow. There was a momentary lull while everyone sighed and stretched and Corlath said a few words to the men of the household, which caused one of them to leave the tent and the other three still present to go around the walls do away with the lanterns, all except the one lamp that hung low over the table. The heavy interweave walls shone in the daylight so the inside was palely lit and the lamp over the table burned like a small sun, modelling half-shadows in the quiet corners of the glowing white walls and in the hollows of eyes. None spoke.Then the man returned, carrying a dark leather bag bound with cheek in the shape of a drinking-horn. A thong hung from its neck and base, and this the man had looped over his shoulder. He offered it first to Corlath, who gestured to the man at his right. The man of the household hand it gravely to him, bowed, and left there were none in the tent now but those twenty who sat round the table.The first man drank one swallow sh e could see him letting it slide slowly down his pharynx. He balanced the bag on the table and stared at the burning lamp. by and by a moment an expression passed over his face that was so clear Harry felt she should recognize it immediately but she did not. She was shaken both by its strength and by her own failure to read it and then it was gone. The man looked down, smiled, shook his head, said a few words, and passed the horn to the man sitting on his right.Each man took one mouthful, swallowed it slowly, and stared at the lamp. Some of them spoke and some did not. One man, with skin sunburned as dark as cinnamon but for a pale scar on his jaw, spoke for a minute or two, and words of surprise stone-broke from several of his audience. They all looked to Corlath, but he sat silent and inscrutable, chin in hand and so the drinking-horn was passed on to the next.One man Harry remembered in particular he was shorter than most of the company, while his shoulders were very bounteou s and his hands large. His hair was grizzled and his expression grim his face was heavy lined, but whether with age or experience or both she could not guess. He sat near the foot of the table on the side opposite her. He drank, stared at the light, spoke no word, and passed the horn to the man on his right. All the others, even the ones who said nothing, showed something in their faces something, Harry thought, that was vaporific to any who had eyes to see beyond some strong sensation, whether of sight or feeling she could not even guess this much. But this man remained impassive, as opaque as skin and blood and bone can be. One could see his eyes move, and his chest heave as he breathed there was no clue for further speculation. She wondered what his name was, and if he ever smiled.As the leather bag rounded the bottom of the table and started up the other side, and Harry could no longer see the faces of the drinkers, she dropped her eyes to her hands and complimented herself on how quietly they lay, the fingers easy, not gripping each other or whitening their knuckles around her mug. The mug was still half full of a pale liquid, slightly honey-sweet but without (she thought she could by now conclude) the dangers of the gentle-tasting mead it reminded her of. She moved one finger experimentally, tapped it against the mug, moved it back, rearranged her hands as a lady might her knitting, and waited.She was aware when the drinking-horn reached the man on her left, and was aware of the slight shudder that ran through him just before he spoke but she kept her eyes down and waited for Corlath to reach across her and take the waiting horn. This was not something an Outlander would be expected to join in and just as well. Whatever the stuff was, watching the mens faces when they drank made her feel a little shaky.And so she was much surprised when one of Corlaths hands entered her range of vision and touched the back of one of her hands with the forefinger. S he looked up.Take a sip, he said. She reached out stiffly and took the brass-bound bag from the man who held it, keeping her eyes only on the bag itself. It was warm from all the hands that had held it, and up close she could see the complexity of the twisted brass fittings. It carried a slight odor with it faintly pungent, obscurely encouraging. She took a deep breath. Only a sip, said Corlaths voice.The weight of the thing kept her hands from trembling. She tipped her head back and took the tiniest of tastes a few drops only. She swallowed. It was curious, the vividness of the flavor, but nothing she could put a name to She saw a broad plain, green and yellow and brown with tall grasses, and mountains at the edge of it, casting long shadows. The mountains started up abruptly, like trees, from the flatness of the plain they looked steep and severe and, with sun behind them, they were almost black. Directly in front of her there was a small prisonbreak in those mountains, little mo re than a brief pause in the march of the mountains sharp crests, and it was high above the floor of the plain. Up the side of the mountain, already near the summit, was a bright moving ribbon.Horsemen, no more than forty of them, riding as right away as they could over the rough stony track, the horses with their heads low and thrown forward, watching their feet, swinging with their strides, the riders straining to look ahead, as though fearing they might come too late. Behind the riders were men on foot, bows slung slantwise over their backs, crossed by quivers of arrows there were perhaps fifty of them, and they followed the horses, with strides as long as theirs. Beside them were long brown moving glints, supple as water, that slid from light to shade too quickly to be identified four-footed, they looked to be dogs perhaps. The sunlight bounced off blade hilts, and the metal bindings of leather arms and harness, and shields of many shapes, and the silver set up of bows.The fa r sides of the mountains were less steep, but no less forbidding. Broken foot hummocks extended a long way, into the hazy distance a little sear grass or a few stunted trees grew where they could. Below the gap in the mountains by any other path but through the valley would be impossible, at least for horses. The gap was one that a small determined force would be able to defend for a time.The bright ribbon of horsemen and archers collected in the small flat plaza behind the gap, and became a pool. Here there was a little second gear plateau, with shallow crevasses, wide enough for small campsites, leading into the rocky shoulders on either side, and with a long low overhanging shelf to one side that was almost a cave. The plateau narrowed to a gap barely the width of two horsemen abreast, where the mountain peaks crowded close together, just before it spilled into the scrub-covered valley, and the rock-strewn descending slopes beyond.The horsemen paused and some dismounted some rode to the edge and looked out. At the far edge of the foothills something glittered, too dark for grass, too sharply peaked for water. When it spilled into the foothills it became apparent for what it was an troops. This army rode less swiftly than had the small band now arranging themselves in and around the pass, but their urgency was less. The sheer numbers of them were all the tactics they needed.But the little army waiting for them organized itself as poorly as if it had a chance of succeeding in what it set out to do and perhaps some delay of the immense force contend it was all that it required. The dust beyond the foothills winked and flashed as rank after rank approached the mountains and then time began to turn and dip crazily, and she saw the leader of the little force plunging down into the valley with a company behind him, and he drew a sword that flashed blue in his hand. His horse was a tall chestnut, fair as daylight, and his men swept down the hill behind him. She could not see the archers, but she saw a hail of arrows like rain sweeping from the low trees on either side of the gap. The first company of the other army leaped eagerly toward them, and a man on a white horse as tall as the chestnut and with red ribbons twisted into its long tail met the blue sword with one that gleamed gold and Harry found herself back in the tent, her throat hoarse as if from shouting standing up, with a pair of strong hands clamped on her shoulders and she realized that without their support she would sag to her knees. The fierce flicker of the swords was still in her eyes. She blinked and shook her head, and realized she was staring at the lamp so she turned her head and looked up at Corlath, who was looking down at her with something she noticed with a shock like pity in his face. She could think of nothing to say she shook her head again, as if to shake out of it all she had just seen but it stayed where it was.There was a silence, of a moment, or perhaps of half a year. She breathed once or doubly the air felt unnaturally harsh on her dry throat. She began to feel the pile of carpets pressing against her feet, and Corlaths hands slackened their grip. They stood, the two of them, king and captive, facing one another, and all the men at the table looked on. I am sorry, Corlath said at last. I did not think it would take you with such strength.She swallowed with some difficulty the lovely wild flavor of the mad drink she had just tasted lingered in the corners of her mouth, and in the corners of her mind. What is it?Corlath made some slight gesture of deprecation or of ignorance. The drink we call it Meeldtar Seeing Water, or Water of Sight.Then all that I saw I really saw it. I didnt imagine it.Imagine it? Do you mean did you see what was true? I do not know. One learns, eventually, chronicly to know, to be able to say if the perceives are to be believed or are imagined. But imagined as you mean it no. The Water sen ds these things, or brings them.There was a pause again, but nobody relaxed, least of all herself. There was more to it than this, than a simple simple? hallucination. She looked at Corlath, frowning. What else? she said, as calmly as if she were asking her delegate.Corlath said, There is something else, as if he were putting it off. He hesitated, and then spoke a few words in a language she did not recognize. It wasnt the usual Darian she perceive the natives around the Residency speak, or the slightly more careful tongue that Dedham and Mr. Peterson used nor did it sound like the differently accented tongue the Hillfolk spoke, which was still recognizable to those who were fluent in Darian. This was a rougher, more powerful language to listen to, although many of the sounds strange to her Homelander ears were common with the Darian she was accustomed to. She looked at Corlath, puzzled, as he spoke a little further. She knew nothing of this language.It is not familiar to you? Corlath said at last and when she shook her head, he said, No, of course not, how could it be? He turned around. We might sit down again, and sat down with great deliberateness. She sat down too, waiting. The look she had seen before on his face, that of a man facing a problem he would far rather avoid, had returned, but it had changed. Now his look said that he understood what the problem was, and it was much more serious than he had suspected.There are two things, he said. The Water of Sight does not work so on everyone. Most people it merely makes ill. To a few it gives headaches headaches accompanied by strange colors and queer movements that make them dizzy. There are very few who see clearly we nineteen, here tonight, all of us have drunk the Water of Sight many times. But even for us, most of us see only a brief abrupt picture sometimes the scene lasts so little time it is hard to recognize. Often it is of something familiar ones father, ones wife, ones horse. There is a q uality to these pictures, or memories, that is like nothing else, like no voluntary memory you might call up yourself. But often that is all.Occasionally one of the people of our Hills sees more. I am one. You have just proven yourself another. I do not know why you saw what you did. You told us something of what you saw as you were seeing it. You may have seen a battle of the past or one that never happened or one that may yet happen it may occur in Damar, or in some other country.She heard may yet happen as if those three words were the doom she had asked for and she remembered the angry brilliance of the yellow-eyed Hill-king as he stood before the Residency far away. But she said, troubled, hardly realizing she spoke aloud I am not even of your Hills. I was born and bred far away at Home. I have been here only a few months. I know nothing of this place.Nothing? said Corlath. I said there were two things. I have told you the first. You told us what you saw as you saw it. B ut this is the second thing you spoke in the Old Tongue, what we call the manner of speaking of the Gods, that none knows any more but kings and sorcerers, and those they wish to teach it to. The language I just spoke to you, that you did not recognize I was restate the words you had said yourself, a moment before.