“Kta, hush. Sleep. You have a belly full of telise and no food to settle it. It has unbalanced your mind. Please. Rest.”
“It is true,” said Kta, “I was born to ruin my people. It is just… what they try to make me do.”
“Blame me for it,” said Kurt. “I had rather hear that than this sick rambling. Answer me what I am, or admit that you cannot foretell the future.”
“It is logical,” said Kta, “that human fate brought you here to deal with human fate.”
“You are drunk, Kta.”
“You came for Djan-methi,” said Kta. “You are for her.”
Kta’s dark eyes closed, rolled back helplessly. Kurt moved at last, realizing the knot at his belly, the sickly gathering of fear, dread of Guardians and Ancestors and the nemet’s reasoning.
Kta at last slept. For a long time Kurt stood staring down at him, then went to his own side of the room and lay down on the cot, not to sleep, not daring to, only to rest his aching back. He feared to leave Kta unwatched, but at some time Ms eyes grew heavy, and he closed them only for a moment.
He jerked awake, panicked by a sound and simultaneously by the realization that he had slept.
The room was almost in darkness, but the faintest light came from the barred window ever the table. Kta was on his feet, naked despite the chill, and had set the water bucket on the table, standing where a channel in the stone floor made a drain beneath the wall, beginning to wash himself.
Kurt looked to the window, amazed to find the light was that of dawn. That Kta had become concerned about his appearance seemed a good sign. Methodically Kta dipped up water and washed, and when he had done what he could by that means, he took the bucket and poured water slowly over himself, letting it complete the task.
Then he returned to his cot and wrapped in the blanket He leaned against the wall, eyes closed, lips moving silently. Gradually he slipped into the state of meditation and rested unmoving, the morning sun beginning to bring detail to his face. He looked at peace, and remained so for about half an hour.
The day broke full, a shaft of light finding its way through the barred window. Kurt stirred himself and straightened the clothing that his restless sleeping had twisted in knots.
Kta rose and dressed also, in his own hard-used clothing, refusing the Methi’s gifts. He looked in Kurt’s direction with a bleak and yet reassuring smile.
“Are you all right?” Kurt asked him.
“Well enough, considering,” said Kta. “It comes to me that I said things I would not have said.”
“It was the telise. I do not take them for intended.”
“I honor you,” said Kta, “as my brother.”
“You know,” said Kurt, “that I honor you in the same way.”
He thought that Kta had spoken as he did because there were hurrying footsteps in the hall. He made haste to answer, for fear that it would pass unsaid. He wanted above all that Kta understand it.
The steps reached their door. A key turned in the lock.
XX
THIS TIME IT was not Lhe who had charge of them, but another man with’ strangers around him. They were taken not to the rhmei, but out of the fortress.
When they came into the courtyard and turned not toward the temple again, but toward the outer gate of the Indume complex, Kta cast Kurt a frightened glance that carried an unwilling understanding.
“We are bound for the harbor,” he said.
“Those are our orders,” said the captain of the detachment, “since the Methi is there and the fleet is sailing. Move on, , t’Elas, or will you be taken through the streets in chains?” ! Kta’s head came up. For the least moment the look of Nym ! t’Elas flared in his dark eyes. “What is your name?”
The guard looked suddenly regretful of his words. “Speak me no curse, t’Elas. I repeated the Methi’s words. She did not think chains necessary.”
“No,” said Kta, “they are not necessary.”