“No. It is no treasure out of Ulmsdale. Kerovan himself found it. But it is a thing of power and Rogear has enough of the Dark knowledge to use such. To leave it in his hands now-
I could reach his thoughts as well as if he put them into words – to leave such a weapon with one of the Dark Ones was something we were bound in honor not to allow. But Rogear – not only did he ride with armsmen prepared to slay, but he had already shown he could harness the gryphon to his service too.
“My Lord, what can we do then to gain it once more?” I asked simply. For in this man (if man one might call him), I centered now all my trust.
“For the present” – weariness was deep in his voice – “I fear very little. Perhaps Rudo or Angarl can follow his trail a little, mark his path from here. But we cannot follow – yet- “
Again I believed that I knew his thoughts. He must nurse some hope that his sight would return. Or else he had some power of his own he could summon to aid. In this thing he must ride as marshal, I as an armsman. For I knew that the quest, or coming battle, was as much mine as his. It was my folly that had delivered the gryphon to Rogear. Thus my hand must have a part in its return.
My head ached cruelly, and Nalda brought a bowl of herb tea that she said I must drink. I suspected that it would make me sleep, and I would have refused. But Lord Amber urged me to it, and I could not set my will against his.
Then Nalda said she had a new ointment for his eyes, something she had used on burns, and that she would dress them again. I do not think he believed it would help, but he allowed her to take his hand and guide him forth.
I was only on the edge of drowsiness when Yngilda came to me, standing above my bed and staring down as if I had, in the space of hours, taken on a new face.
“So your lord is dead, Joisan” she said. I detected satisfaction in her words. That I did not prosper over her meant much.
“He is dead.” I felt nothing. Kerovan had been a name for eight years – little more. To me he was still a name. How can one sorrow for a name? Instead it was a matter for rejoicing that I had that strange, instinctive dislike for the impostor. Rogear was not my lord; I need feel no discomfort or guilt because I did not like or trust him. My lord was dead, having never really lived for me.
“You do not weep.” She watched me with that sly malice with which she so often favored me. “How can I weep for one I never knew?” I asked. She shrugged. “One shows proper feeling -” she accused. We were no longer bound by keep custom, not here, not with our world swept away by the red tide of war. Were I back at Ithkrypt, yes, I would have kept the terms of conventional mourning as would be expected of me. Here there was no reason for form alone. I was sorry that a good man had died, and by the treachery of his kin, but mourn more than that I could not.
She drew from an inner pocket a strip of cloth made into a bag. I caught a whiff of scent from it and knew it for one of the herb bags put under pillows for those with aching heads.
“My mother’s, but she does not need it this night.” Yngilda spoke brusquely, as if she believed I might refuse her offering.
I was surprised, yes, but not unduly so. Perhaps now that we were equal before the world, Yngilda would no longer think me the more fortunate. So I thanked her and allowed her to slip the scented bag beneath my head where the warmth of my body could release the odor to soothe me.
The herb broth was doing its work also. I found it hard to keep my eyes open. I remember seeing Yngilda turn away toward the door, and then – I must have slept.
Kerovan:
“It is Nalda?” I turned my head, though I could not see.
“Yes, Lord.” She spoke briskly, and I silently thanked her for her way toward me. There was no pity in her manner, only the confidence of one who had nursed hurts and expected healing to come from her service.
“Lady Joisan?”
“She sleeps, Lord. And truly she has taken little hurt, save that the blow was a hard one. But there be no bones broken or other injury.”
“Have the men reported in yet?”
“No, you shall see them at once when they come. Now here is some soup, Lord. A man must keep his belly filled if he would hold his strength. Open your mouth – “
She spooned it into me as if I were a baby. Nor could I then say her “no.” But in me was a rage against what had happened and a dark feeling of misery that there was naught I could do for myself.
Nalda guided me to my bed, and I stretched thereupon. But sleep, even rest, was far from me, wearied from the trail as I was. I lay rigid, as one who expects any moment to be called to arms, though I might never be again.
I thought of Joisan – of her need to regain the gryphon. I knew that she was right; that it must be taken from Rogear. He had not been caught in the doom of wind and wave. Had then those others escaped also – Hlymer who was no true brother, the Lady Tephana, Lisana – ?
Now I raised my hands to explore the bandage over my eyes. It was still damp, and I was sure it was of no use to me.
Rogear – if he had come after the gryphon – how could he have known of it save through Riwal, and from Jago, that it had passed to Joisan? What was it that he had come to seize? I knew so little at a tune when knowledge was so essential.
I rested my arm across my forehead, the back of my wrist upon that bandage. How long was it before my thoughts were shaken out of the drear path they followed, and I realized something was in progress?
The wrist band! Joisan had said it defeated the ray from the crystal. From it now – I sat up and tore away the bandage. A warmth spread from the wristlet where it touched my flesh. Perhaps instinct, perhaps “memory” guided me now, for I held that band of strange metal first against my right eye and then against my left, pressing upon the closed lids. I did not try to see as yet. What I did was simple. Why I did it I did not know, save there came from that act a sense of well-being, a renewed confidence in life.
I dropped my hand and opened my eyes. Dark! I could have cried my vast despair aloud. I had thought – hoped –
Then I turned my head a little and – light! Limited – but there. And I realized that I sat within a darkened room with light marking the doorway. Hastily I arose and went to it.
Night, yes, but no darker than any night I had seen before. When I had raised my head to look heavenward – stars! Stars glittering more brightly than I could remember. I could see!
Joisan! Instantly in my joy I knew I must share this with her. And that was mainly instinct too. I looked around the courtyard to get my bearings and headed to her room.
The doorway curtain was down and made me pause. Nalda had said she had given her lady a sleeping draught and that she would rest until morning. But even if I could not tell her of this miracle, I could at least look upon her dear face. There was a faint glimmer of light behind the curtain. They must have left one of the rush lamps with her.
So I entered, wishing to shout aloud my tidings, yet walking softly, trying to control even my breathing lest I disturb her rest
Only, there was no one on her bed! The light cloak that must have been her night covering was tossed aside; the couch of leaves, grass, and brush was empty.
Empty save for something that lay in the hollow where her head must have rested. It caught my eye and I scooped it up. I held a bag, lumpily stuffed with herbs, which gave forth a strong odor. Among the leaves and roots there was a harder knot.