“You wouldn’t!”
“I will. I will for good reason. And if you trust me and come with me and stand beside me, you’ll be safe and all our people will be safe, no matter what happens.”
“And Dovidi?”
“Including Dovidi, of course. I would never threaten Dovidi’s life, or yours. Whatever’s chewing on you, can you set it aside? For the love you claimed you bore me . . .”
“Claim! I did … do love you!”
“Then prove it. Stop sulking and follow me!”
He rose, breathing heavily, his face reddening as he bent to take up his cloak and pack.
“Leave them,” she whispered. “We can save only ourselves.”
Reluctantly, he followed her out of the tent. Terceth still watched, and as they passed, Genevieve said to him, “Terceth, do you see that great rock outcropping a little south and west of your ship? If you would live, get yourself to the top of it, together with any whose lives you treasure.”
He started to speak, but her glance quelled him, and as they departed, Aufors turned back to see him leave the tent and run toward the outcropping she had mentioned. He ran alone.
The Chieftain and his two elder sons awaited them in the high tent, where Genevieve went with Aufors close behind.
“I would speak a word to the Prince, to the Marshal.”
“Speak,” the Chieftain said, “but don’t take long.
She went back to where they sat on a carpet at the rear of the tent. The Prince looked as he had at the Standing Stone, mummylike, aged beyond belief. The Marshal was unchanged. He still gripped the Prince’s hand, and Genevieve could see a bit of food wrapper protruding between the fingers. So. They were disputing over who should have the dose.
“I have only a little question,” she murmured. “If either of you had it to do over again, would you do anything differently?”
The Prince wheezed. “I’d have killed that old fox Marwell long ago. And I’d have rejected you as a candidate, girl. You’ve brought our world down around us.”
She turned to the Marshal, questioning only with her eyes. “I’d have had your mother done away with after you were born,” he snarled. “And you with her!”
She smiled, radiantly, so brightly that they were caught in the light of it, unable to turn away.
“No last-minute conversions. No remorse. Consistent to the end.”
“What end?” breathed the Prince. “Tides turn, girly. Tides turn . . .” His fingers worked, and he nodded at the Marshal, as though in agreement. So. They would share it. She turned to walk back through the tent and out onto the sand, summoning the Aresians to follow her. There she pointed at a slope of sand near the city walls and said, “Under that sand is the store of life stuff buried. Dig down, and you will find the building. I ask only to take my son and my husband and depart.”
“Oh, no, no,” laughed the Chieftain. “Not until we’ve proven you right, lady. Then you can take whom you will. Take your papa as well, and that old mummy back there who’s fading by the minute.”
“Very well,” she said. “I will stand here, where I can see your men digging. You have decided to dig it up, no matter what I’ve said?”
Lokdren made an abortive gesture, but Ogberd caught his arm and held it.
“No matter what you or anyone might say,” the Chieftain agreed. And with that, he turned to his men and trumpeted an order. Within moments, a horde of diggers were converging on the slope.
“There is a song to be sung on these occasions,” Genevieve said. “You will not mind if I sing it?”
“Sing to your heart’s content,” sneered the Chieftain. “I’m going to join the treasure hunt.”
When he approached the diggers, Genevieve stepped away from the tent, tugging Aufors along by one lax hand. When the first shovel entered into the sand she began to sing, and for the first time in all her singing, she did not bother to soften her voice.
In Mahahm, every prayer-caller woke to sudden attention. In the oases across the deserts, Mahahmbi stopped what they were doing to hearken. Among the armies of Aresia, no man moved. The shovelers stopped, stooped. The officers froze, mouths open. The Chieftain stood as one turned to stone. Out on the sands, near the stone outcropping, Terceth staggered, then picked himself up and ran on. On the Frangian ship, the sailors heard, and hastened to bring their ship into the bay.