There was about them a kind of exclusionary wall as they closed
ranks around their injured sister. Sephrenia rode very close to
the Anarae, frequently reaching out her hand to touch the
stricken woman. The racial differences and eons-old enmity
appeared to have been overridden by the universal sisterhood
of all women. Sephrenia reached across those barriers to comfort
her enemy without even thinking about it. Betuana was no less
solicitous, and in spite of the gruesome demonstration of the
effects of Xanetia’s touch, she walked very close to the Delphaeic
woman.
Aphrael, of course, was in complete control of the situation.
She rode with her arms about Xanetia’s waist, and Aphrael’s
touch was one of the more powerful forces on earth. Sparhawk
was quite certain that Xanetia was not really suffering. The Child
Goddess would not permit that. The Anarae’s apparent horror
and remorse at what she had been compelled to do was entirely
for the benefit of her two comforters. Aphrael was quite deliberately
erasing Sephrenia’s racial animosity and Betuana’s superstitious
aversion by the simple expedient of intensifying
Xanetia’s outward appearance of grief.
It was easy to underestimate Aphrael when she appeared in
one of her innumerable incarnations as a capricious little girl
and that was probably the main reason she had chosen the form
of the Child Goddess in the first place. Sparhawk, however, had
seen the reality of Aphrael waveringly reflected in the brass
mirror back in Matherion, and the reality was neither childish
nor whimsical. Aphrael always knew exactly what she was
doing, and she always got exactly what she wanted. Sparhawk
firmly fixed the wavering image of the reality of Aphrael in his
mind so that it would always be present when the dimples and
the kisses began to cloud his judgement.
The days were significantly shorter this far to the north. The
sun rose far to the southeast now, and it did not go very high
above the southern horizon before it started to descend again.
Each long night’s frost piled up on the previous night’s lacy
blanket, since the pale, weak sun no longer had the strength to
melt what had built up during the hours of darkness.
It was nearly sunset when a towering Atan came loping down
a frosty forest path to meet them. He went directly to Queen
Betuana and banged his fist against his chest in salute. Betuana
motioned quickly to Sparhawk and the others. ‘A message from
Engessa-Atan,’ she said tersely. ‘There are enemies gathering
on the coast at the eastern end of the wall.’
‘Trolls?’ Vanion asked quickly.
The tall Atan shook his head. ‘No, Vanion-Lord,’ he replied.
‘They’re Elenes, and for the most part they’re not warriors’
They’re cutting trees.’
‘To use in building fortifications?’ Bevier asked.
‘No, Church Knight. They are lashing the trees together to
build things that will float.’
‘Rafts?’ Tynian asked. ‘Ulath, you said that Trolls are afraid
of the sea. Would they be willing to use rafts to go around the
outer edge of the escarpment?’
“It’s hard to say,’ the blond-braided Thalesian replied.
‘Ghwerig did use a boat to cross Lake Venue, and he almost had
to have stolen a ride on some ship to get from Thalesia to Pelosia
when he followed King Sarah during the Zemoch war, but
Ghwerig wasn’t like other Trolls.’ He looked at the Atan. ‘Are
they building these rafts north of the wall or here on the south
side?’
‘They’re on this side of the wall,’ the Atan replied.
‘That doesn’t make too much sense, does it?’ Kalten asked.
‘Not to me, it doesn’t,’ Ulath admitted.
“I think we’d better get up there and have a look, Sparhawk,’
Vanion said. ‘That attack on Betuana last night was fair evidence
that Zalasta knows we’re coming, so this little stroll through
the woods has accomplished its purpose. Let’s join forces with
Engessa and Kring and find out if Sorgi’s made it to the beach
yet. Winter’s coming on very fast anyway, and I think we’ll want
to deal with the Trolls before the sun goes down permanently.’
‘Would you see to that, Divine One?’ Sparhawk said to
Aphrael. ‘i’d ask Bhelliom to do it, but you’ve been handling
things so well that I wouldn’t want to appear critical by taking
over at this point.’
Aphrael’s eyes narrowed. ‘Don’t push your luck, Sparhawk,’
she said ominously.
Sparhawk was never really certain whether Aphrael had somehow
moved them during the night or had slipped them across
the intervening miles at some point between the time when they
swung up into their saddles and the time when their mounts
took their first steps. The Child Goddess was too practiced, too
skilled, to be caught tampering when she didn’t want to be.
The hill was the same hill that had been lying to the northwest
of their night’s encampment when the sun had gone down – or
so it seemed – but when they crested it about a half-hour after
they set out, there was a long, sandy beach and the lead-gray
expanse of the Tamul Sea on the other side instead of a broad,
unbroken forest.
‘That was quick,’ Talen said, looking around. Talen’s presence
on this expedition had never really been explained to Sparhawk’s
satisfaction. He suspected Aphrael, however. It was easy
to suspect Aphrael of such things, and more often than not the
suspicions proved to be well founded.
‘There’s someone coming down the beach,’ Ulath said,
pointing at a tiny figure riding along the water’s edge from the
north.
‘Khalad.’ Talen shrugged.
‘How can you tell?’
‘He’s my brother, Sir Ulath – besides, I recognize his cloak.’
They rode on down the hill and out onto the sand.
‘What kept you?’ Khalad asked Sparhawk bluntly when he
joined them.
‘i’m glad to see you too, Khalad.’
‘Don’t try to be funny, Sparhawk. I’ve been struggling to keep
Engessa and his Atans from swimming round the outer edge of
the escarpment for the past ten days. They want to go attack
the Trolls all by themselves. How did Stragen’s plan come
off?’
“It’s hard to say,’ Talen told him. ‘We were on the road during
the harvest Festival. I know Stragen and Caalador well enough
to know that most of the people they were after are probably
dead by now, though. We’re a little late because we wanted to
make sure that Zalasta’s people saw us coming. We thought we
might be able to divert him enough to keep him out of the way
of Caalador’s murderers.’
Khalad grunted.
‘Are the Trolls gathering anywhere nearby?’ Ulath asked.
‘As closely as we can tell, they’re all clustered around the
abandoned village of Tzada over on the other side of the Atan
border,’ Khalad replied. ‘They tried to climb the wall for a while,
but then they pulled back. Engessa’s got scouts on top of the
wall watching them. They’ll let us know when they start to
move.’
‘Where are Engessa and Kring?’ Vanion asked him.
‘Up the beach about a mile, my Lord. We’ve built an encampment
back in the forest a ways. Tikume’s joined us. He brought
in several thousand of the eastern Peloi about five days ago.’
‘That should help,’ Kalten said. ‘The Peloi are very enthusiastic
about their wars.’
‘Any sign of Sorgi yet?’ Sparhawk asked.
‘He’s feeling his way in through the reefs,’ Khalad replied.
He sent a longboat on ahead to let us know that he was coming.’
‘What’s this business with the rafts all about?’ Vanion asked
him.
‘They aren’t rafts, my Lord. They’re sections of a floating
bridge.’
‘A bridge? A bridge to where?’
‘We aren’t sure. We’ve been staying back a ways so that the
Edomish peasants constructing it won’t see us.’
‘What are Edomishmen doing on this side of the continent?’
Kalten asked with some astonishment.
‘Building a bridge, Sir Kalten. Weren’t you listening? Talen’s
old friend Amador – or Rebal, or whatever he calls himself now
– is sort of in charge, but Incetes is there too, and he’s the one
who’s making the big im’pression. He bellows orders in archaic
Elenic, and he’s been braining anyone who doesn’t understand
him or move fast enough.”
‘is it that counterfeit one we saw in the woods near Jorsan?’
Talen asked.
“I don’t think so. This fellow seems to be quite a bit bigger,
and he’s got a sizeable contingent of men in bronze armor with
him. I’d guess that somebody’s resurrecting people out of the
past again.’
‘That would probably be Djarian of Samar,’ Sephrenia said.
‘Maybe he can raise whole armies after all.’
‘He can if Cyrgon’s lending him a hand,’ Aphrael added.
The Child Goddess had appeared to be dozing in her sister’s
arms, but she had clearly been listening. She opened her large,
dark eyes. ‘Hello, Khalad,’ she said. ‘You look a little windburned.’
‘We’ve had some gales coming in off the Tamul Sea, Divine
One. There’s a strong smell of ice mixed up in them.’