of the previous day’s conversation with Sephrenia. ‘The lady’s
appearance won’t go unnoticed – not only in Matherion itself,
but along the roads we’ll have to follow as we ride east as well.
Is there some way we could disguise her enough so that whole
villages won’t go into absolute panic the moment she rides
by?’ He looked apologetically at the Delphaeic woman. “I
wouldn’t offend you for the world, Anarae, but you are very
Striking.’
“I thank thee for the compliment, gentle sir.’
‘Do you want to take over, Sparhawk?’ Vanion said. “I just
seem to be digging myself in deeper.’
‘We’re soldiers, Xanetia,’ Sparhawk said bluntly, ‘and our
answer to hostility is fairly direct. We can butcher our way from
here to the imperial palace in Matherion if we have to, but I get
the feeling that you might find that distressing. Would a disguise
of some kind offend you?’ Then a thought came to him. ‘Can
we disguise you? I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but you glow.
Some of your people have come fairly close to us before the light
started to show. Can your internal fire be dampened?’
‘We can control the light, Anakha,’ Codon assured him, ‘and
Xanetia, the most gifted of us all, can control it even better than
most – ‘though it doth cause her pain to do so. For us, it is an
unnatural thing.’
‘We’ll have to work on that, then.’
‘The pain is of no moment, Anakha,’ Xanetia assured him.
‘Not to you, perhaps, but it is to me. Let’s start with your
coloration, though. Your features are Tamul, but your skin and
hair are the wrong color. What do you think, Itagne? Could she
pass for Tamul if we dyed her skin and hair?’
‘That is not needful, Anakha,’ Xanetia told him. Her brow furrowed
briefly in concentration, and gradually, almost like a slow
blush, a faint golden tint began to mount in her cheeks, and her
hair slipped from its colorless white into pale blonde. ‘Color is a
quality of light,’ she explained quite calmly, even as the embronzing
of her skin and the darkening of her hair continued, ‘and since
I can control the light from within me, so can I also control’ my
color – indeed, by thus altering the light rather than suppressing
it entirely, I can lessen the pain. A most happy solution for me and
for thee as well, I wot, since thou seemest sensitive to the pain
of others. This is a simple matter.’ Her skin by now was almost
the same pale gold as Itagne’s, and her hair was a deep, rich auburn.
‘The change of shape is far more difficult,’ she conceded, ‘and
the change of gender more difficult still. ‘
‘The what?’ Itagne choked.
“I do not do that often – nor willingly,’ she replied. ‘Edaemus
did not intend for me to be a man, and I find it most uncomfortable.
A man’s body is so cluttered and untidy.’ She held out her
arm and examined it closely. ‘The color seemeth me correct,’
she observed. Then she took a lock of her now-black hair and
looked at it. ‘And this as well,’ she added. ‘What thinkest thou,
Itagne? Would I pass unnoticed in Matherion now?’
‘Hardly, divine Xanetia,’ he smiled. ‘Thy passage through the
streets of fire-domed Matherion would stop the hearts of all who
beheld thee, for thou art fair, and thy beauty doth bedazzle mine
eye beyond all measure.’
‘Well said,’ Sparhawk murmured.
‘Thine honeyed words fall sweetly upon mine ears, Itagne,’
Xanetia smiled. ‘Thou art, I do believe, a master of flattery.’
‘You should probably know that Itagne is a diplomat, Anarae,’
Vanion advised her, ‘and his words aren’t always to be trusted.
This time he’s telling you the truth, though. You’re an extraordinarily
beautiful woman.’
She looked at him gravely. ‘Thine heart is sore within thee,
is it not, Lord Vanion?’ she observed.
He sighed. “It’s my ‘personal problem, Anarae,’ he replied.
‘Not entirely so, my Lord. Now are we all of the same fellowship,
and the troubles of one are the troubles of all. But that
which troubleth thee is of far greater note and causeth us all
much greater concern than that which might grow from our
comradely feelings for thee. This breach between thy beloved
and thee doth imperil our cause, and until it be healed, our
common purpose doth stand in peril.’
They rode eastward, following a scarcely perceptible track which
seemed more like a game trail than a route normally followed
by humans. Sephrenia, accompanied by BevierE and young Berit,
rode some distance to the rear, her face set and her eyes as hard
as flint.
Sparhawk and Vanion rode in the lead, following occasional
directions from Xanetia, who rode directly behind them under
Kalten’s watchful eye. ‘Just give her some time, Vanion,’
Sparhawk was saying. ‘Women deliver ultimatums and
declarations of war fairly often. Things like that are usually
intended to get our attention. Any time I start neglecting Ehlana’,
she says something she doesn’t really mean to bring me up
short.’
‘i’m afraid this goes a little further than that, Sparhawk,’
Vanion replied. ‘Sephrenia’s a Styric, but she’s never been so
totally irrational before. If we could find out what’s behind this
insane hatred of hers, we might be able to do something about
it, but we’ve never been able to get any coherent reasons out of
her. Apparently, she hates the Delphae’simply because she hates
the Delphae.’
‘Aphrael will straighten it out,’ Sparhawk said confidently.
‘As soon as we get back to Matherion, I’ll have a talk with Danae
and…’ Sparhawk broke off as a sudden thought chilled his
blood. “I have to talk with Xanetia,’ he said, abruptly wheeling
Faran around.
‘Trouble?’ Kalten asked as Sparhawk joined them.
‘Nothing immediate,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘Why don’t you go
on ahead and ride with Vanion for a while. I need to talk with
Xanetia. ‘
Kalten gave him a questioning look but rode on forward without
any further questions.
‘Thou art troubled, Anakha,’ Xanetia observed.
‘A little, yes. You know what I’m thinking, don’t you?’
She nodded.
‘Then you know who my daughter is?’
‘Yes.’
“It’s a sort of secret, Anarae. Aphrael didn’t consult with my
wife when she chose her present incarnation. It’s very important
that Ehlana doesn’t find out. I think her sanity depends on it.’
‘Thy secret is safe, Anakha, I do pledge thee my silence on
this issue.’
‘What really happened, Xanetia? – between the Styrics and
the Delphae, I mean. I don’t want your version or Sephrenia’S.
I want the truth.’
‘Thou art not meant to know the truth, Anakha. A part of thy
task is to resolve this issue without recourse to the truth.’
‘i’m an Elene, Xanetia,’ he said in a pained voice. “I have to
have facts in order to make decisions.’
‘Then it is thine intent to judge? – to decide if the guilt doth
condemn the Styrics or the Delphae?’
‘No. My intent is to get to the bottom of Sephrenia’s behavior
so that I can change her mind.’
‘is she so important to thee?’
Why do you ask questions when you already know the answers?’
‘My questions are intended to help thee formulate thy thought,
Anakha.’
‘i’m a Pandion Knight, Xanetia. Sephrenia’s been the mother
of our order for three centuries. Any one of us would give up
his life for her without any hesitation at all. We love her, but
we don’t share all of her prejudices.’ He leaned back in his
saddle. ‘I’ll only wait for so long, Xanetia. If I don’t get the real
truth out of you – or out of Sephrenia – I’ll just ask Bhelliom.’
Thou wouldst not!’ Her now-dark eyes were filled with a sudden
chagrin.
‘i’m a soldier, Xanetia, so I don’t have the patience for
subtlety. You’ll excuse me? I have to go talk with Sephrenia for
a moment.’
‘Dirgis,’ Xanetia told them as they crested a hill and saw a typical
Atan town lying in the valley below.
‘Well, finally,’ Vanion said, taking out his map. ‘Now we know
where we are.’ He looked over his map for a moment and then
squinted up at the evening sky. ‘is it too late in the day for us
to take one of those long steps, Sparhawk?’
‘No, my Lord,’ Sparhawk replied. ‘There’s plenty of light.’
‘Are we still concerned about that?’ Ulath asked. ‘Haven’t you
and Bhelliom hammered that out yet?’
‘We haven’t been having any private chats,’ Sparhawk
replied. ‘There are still people out there who can locate Bhelliom
when it’s out in the open, so I’ve been keeping it inside its little
house – just to be on the safe side.’
“It’s well over three hundred leagues, Sparhawk,’ Vanion
pointed out. “It’s going to be later there.’
‘i’m never going to get used to that,’ Kalten said sourly.
“It’s really very simple, Kalten,’ Ulath told him. ‘You see,