“I know. I came through Yim-Sin.”
“Was it well to come, sister? There is naught you can do, and sometimes surveying a wreck sorrows the heart past ever lifting of the cloud. It is better to remember a loved one walking in pride, than without pride or even manhood left.”
My hands tightened on my wand, and I knew he saw me do that, but with Orkamor I did not care; he has seen worse self-betrayal in his time.
“I have come on another matter.” Resolutely I thrust aside what he confirmed, and continued. “This—”
Quickly I turned to the matter of the off-worlder, telling the story to Orkamor simply. I could do this because he was who and what he was and would not read aught into my actions to make him think me more or less than himself. The priests of Umphra and the Thassa are not so un-kin as we are with others who dwell in the plains. When I was done he stared at me, but there was no great astonishment in his face.
“The way of the Thassa is not the way of mankind,” be said.
“Tell me something I do not already know!” All that I had borne since Yim-Sin flared out in my sharp speech. And then, when I would have asked pardon, he waved it aside.
“Yes, you must have thought of the cost before you did this, sister. Those of your calling do not move lightly. This off-worlder was worth that much to you?”
“There was a debt.”
“Which, if he knew all the consequences, he would not have demanded any payment from you. Now I must also say—there has been no charge brought hither by the men of Oskold.”
I was not greatly disturbed. “If they returned to seek Oskold’s leave— We came by the fore road, and though the van moves slowly that path is shorter.”
“What if he is not brought, sister?”
I looked to the wand I twirled in my fingers. “They cannot—”
“You hope that they will not,” he corrected me, and now there was sharpness in his voice. By all you have told me, Osokun broke fair law in taking this man. He involved his father when he imprisoned the captive in a border fort. It was a man wearing Oskold’s lively who came hunting him to the death in your camp. It may be that they think to kill him, hide his body, and leave it to their enemies to prove their crime. Would you not think thus, were you Oskold at this hour?”
“Being Oskold, with a plainsman’s mind, perhaps I would. But not one who was—”
“Who was under Umphra’s cloak?” Orkamor did not need to read my mind to follow my thoughts. “Having broken one law, it is always easier to break another.”
“They broke man’s law at the fair, but would they dare to break Umphra’s law?”
“You are thinking as a Thassa.” He sounded more gentle now, as one who must reason with an alien. “You have few Standing Words, and your mortal precepts are so secure that they are seldom threatened. But, sister, what of your own actions under the Moon of Three Rings?”
“I have broken law, yes, and I will answer for it. Perhaps the reason for the deed will outweigh the deed. You know the judgment of my people.”
“Yet you broke it with open eyes, though not in fear for yourself. Fear is the great lash the powers of darkness use to torment all men. If fear be great enough, then no law of man or god can stand against it. I have heard of Oskold. He is a strong man, though hard. He has but one heir, Osokun, and this has been that youth’s bane. For his father favors him too greatly. Do you think that Oskold will tamely accept the outlawry of his son?”
“But how could he hope to conceal—”
“What men may say they know, and what they are able to prove are two different matters. And the full proof of Osokun’s ill doing is the body of the off-worlder.”
“No!” I should have seen this, of course. Why had I been so blind to logic.
“My sister, what did you really want?” Again Orkamor reached into my mind and sought what I did not want to see light.
“I swear-by the breath of Molaster, I swear-I did not—” I broke then, heard myself babbling, and strove to win control once more.
Orkamor looked at me steadily and made the truth, or what was now the truth, plain to both of us.
“And did you think, sister, that such could be? I tell you, it is not the body that makes a man, but what dwells within it. You cannot fill an empty frame and expect the past to come alive and all be as it once was. The Thassa can do much, but they cannot so give life to the dead.”
“I did not mean it so!” I denied that once-hidden thought, now open in my mind. “I saved the off-worlder’s life—they would have cut him down without mercy.”
“And which would he have chosen, had all been made plain to him?”
“Life. It is a part of most to cling to life at that final Question.”
“And now you will offer him life again, under new terms?”
I could, it would be so easy. Krip Vorlund had been in shock when he realized he was Jorth. Offered a human body again, would he hesitate—if it were proven his own body was beyond recall? Beyond recall—1 stiffened against temptation.
“I will make no offers until I am sure that all has gone so awry,” I promised.
“But you will tell him this now?”
“Only that his body has not yet reached the Valley. For that may be the truth, may it not?”
“We can always lean upon the mercy of Umphra. I shall send a messenger down the western road. If they are on the way, we shall be prepared. If not, there may be some news—”
“Thank you. Eldest Brother. Is it permitted that I— I-?”
“Do you really wish this, sister?” Kindness, great compassion, once more warmed his voice.
For the moment I could not decide. Was Orkamor right-that I should not see the one in the inner chamber, harrow my heart by looking upon— I shrank from that journey which was only a few steps, yet for me maked a distance like that between the stars which Krip Vorlund knew. Krip Vorlund—if I saw, then could I hold to my resolve, put aside desire?
“Not now,” I whispered.
Orkamor held up his hand in blessing. “You are right, sister. And may Umphra arm you with his strength. I shall dispatch the messenger, do you have dreamless sleep.”
Dreamless sleep! A kind wish, but not for me this night, I thought as I returned to the van. The off-worlder would want news. A part of the truth was all I had to offer him. Truth-perhaps the rest was not truth but surmise, perhaps Orkamor’s messenger would meet the party we sought and all would come right after all-for Krip Vorlund. There are many rights in any world, and some may stand for others’ wrongs. I must push away such thoughts.
I was right about the off-worlder and his questions. He was distraught when I said that the party from Oskold had not yet arrived, only small part reassured by the idea of the messenger sent down the western road. I dared not use mind-talk too much, lest I reveal in some way my new knowledge of myself. So I pleaded great weariness and went to my couch, lying there for half the night, hearing him shift and turn in his cage.
Morning came with the dawn call of the priest from the peak of the temple tower. I listened to those singing notes which, though not of the power of Thassa, yet had in them power of their own kind. For in this place where sorrow and despair could so well lay a black blanket over all, yet Umphra’s servant sang of hope and peace, and compassion. And by so little was my own day lightened.
I brought out the little people and let them free in the courtyard, while two of the third-rank priests, who were hardly more than children, came gladly to bring us food and water. Krip Vorlund sat close to me, and over as I looked up I found his eyes watching my every move, as if by such close surveillance he could trap me.
Why had I thought that? Such ideas out of nowhere sometimes carry the germ of truth.
“Krip Vorlund—” To use the name Jorth now, I believed, would add to his suspicion. He must continue to think of himself as a man only temporarily dwelling in a barsk body. “Today perhaps—”
“Today!” he assented eagerly. “You have been here before?”