“What do you know of Liell?” he asked of Roh. “Is he Chya?”
“There was a Chya Liell,” said Roh. “And our Liell was a good man, before he became counselor in Leth.” Roh looked down at the stones and up again, his face drawn in loathing. “I do not know. There are rumors it is the same man. There are rumors he in Leth is qujal. That he—like Thiye of Hjemur—is old. What I can tell you is that he is the power in Leth, but if you have come from Leth, you know that. At times he is a quiet enemy, and when the worst beasts have come into Koris-wood, the worst sendings of Thiye, Lieill’s folk have been no less zealous than we to rid Koris of the plague: we observe hunter’s peace on occasion, for our mutual good. But our harboring Morgaine will not better relations between Leth and Chya.”
“I believe your rumors,” said Vanye at last. Coldness rested in his belly, when he thought back to the lakeshore.
“I did not,” said Roh, “until this night, that she came into hall.”
“We will go in the morning,” said Vanye.
Roh stared into his face yet a moment more. “There is Chya in you,” he said. “Cousin, I pity you, your fate. How long have you to go of your service with her?”
“My year,” he said, “has only begun.”
And there passed between them the silent communication that that year would be his last, accepted with a sorrowful shake of Roh’s head.
“If so happen,” said Roh, “if so happen you find yourself free—return to Chya.”
And before Vanye could answer anything, Roh had walked off, retiring to a distant corridor of the rambling hall that led to other huts, warrenlike.
He was shaken then by the thing that he had never dreamed to receive: Chya would take him in.
In a way it was only cruelty. He would die before his year was out. Morgaine was death-prone, and he would follow; and in it he had no choice. A moment ago he had had no particular hope.
Only now there was. He looked about at the hall, surely one of the strangest of all holds in Andur-Kursh. Here was refuge, and welcome, and a life.
A woman. Children. Honor.
These were not his, and would not be. He turned and clasped his arms about his knees, staring desolately into the fire. Even should she die, which was probably the thought in Roh’s mind, he had his further bond, to ruin Hjernur.
If so happen you find yourself free.
In all the history of man, Hjemur had never fallen.
CHAPTER 6
The whole of Chya seemed to have turned out in the morning to see them leave, as silent at their going as they had been at their arrival; and yet there seemed no ill feeling about them now that Roh attended them to their horses, and himself held the stirrup for Morgaine to mount.
Roh bowed most courteously when Morgaine was in the saddle, and spoke loudly enough in wishing her well that the whole of Chya could hear. “We will watch your backtrail at least,” he said, “so that I do not think you will have anyone following you through Chya territories very quickly. Be mindful of our safety too, lady.”
Morgaine bowed from the saddle. “We are grateful, Chya Roh, to you and all your people. Neither of us has slept secure until we slept under your roof. Peace on your house, Chy Roh.”
And with that she turned and rode away, Vanye after her, amid a great murmuring of the people. And as at their coming, so at their going, the children of Chya were their escort, running along beside the horses, heedless of the proprieties of their elders. There was wild excitement in their eyes to see the old days come to life, that they had heard in songs and ballads. They did not at all seem to fear or hate her, and with the de-lightedness of childhood took this great wonder as primarily for their benefit.
It was, Vanye thought, that she was so fair it was hard for them to think ill of her. She shone in sunlight, like sun on ice.