“Let her pass,” said Vanye. “They will want her and all that
ever was hers; you cannot deal with Hjemur. There is no dealing with them at all, and you know it.”
“Is that where she is going?” he asked.
“The less Morija has to do with her the better. She has bloodfeud with them, and she is more danger to them than to you. I am telling you the truth.”
Erij thought upon that a moment, leaned upon the fireplace and thrust the maimed limb within his tunic once more. His dark eyes rested upon Vanye, hard and calculating. “The last I heard of you was through Myya Gervaine, the matter of a killing and a horse-theft in Erd.”
“It took the better part of two years to pass the land of your cousins of Myya,” Vanye acknowledged. “I lived off them; and took the horse in trade for mine.”
Erij’s lips tightened in grim mirth at the insolence. “Before you acquired a service, I take it?”
“Before that, yes.”
“And how was it that you acquired that service?”
Vanye shrugged. He was cold. He returned to the fire, folding his arms against the chill. “Carelessness,” he said. “I sheltered where I ought not—too intent on the woman to remember that she had lord-right. It was fair Claiming.”
“Do you sleep with her?”
He looked up at his brother in shock, “llin with liyo, and the like of her? No, I do not. Did not.”
“She is beautiful. She is also qujal. I do not like having her under roof. She claims no hearth-right here, and I do not intend she should obtain it.”
“She does not wish it,” said Vanye. “Only send us on our way.”
“What is the term of your service to her? What does she claim of you?”
“I do not think I am at liberty to say that. But it has nothing to do with Morija. We only turned here after we were harried in this direction by Hjemur.” –
“And if released, she will go—where?”
“Out of your lands, by the quickest means.” He looked his brother in the face, dropping all arrogance: Erij was due his revenge, had had it in the hospitality he gave them. “I swear it, Erij; and I hold nothing against you for this welcome of yours.
If you let us go I will take every care that it brings no trouble on the land—on my life, Erij.”
“What do you ask of me, what help?”
“Only return to us the gear you took from us. Give us provisions, if you would. We are scant of everything. And we will go as soon as she can ride.”
Erij stared into the fire, sidelong; his eyes flicked back again, frowning. “There is a charge on that charity.”
“What charge?”
“You.” And when Vanye only stared at him, blank and hardly comprehending: “I will release her,” said Erij, “today, with provisions, with horses, with all your gear; and she may go where she will. But you I will not release. That is the charge on my hospitality.”
Bargain us a refuge, she had ordered him before she sank into delirium, however you can. He knew that it dishonored her, to abandon him, but he knew the compulsion there was in Morgaine: she lived for that, and for nothing else, her face set toward Hjemur. She would gladly spend his life if it would set her safe at Hjemur’s border: she had said that in her own words.
“When I have fulfilled my service with her,” he offered, trying that, “I will come back to Morija.”
“No,” said Erij.
“Then,” he said at last, “for such a bargain you owe me fair payment: swear that she will go from here with all that is ours, horses and weapons and provisions adequate to see her to any of our borders she chooses: and let her ride free away from the very gate—no double-dealing.”
“And for your part?” asked Erij. “If I grant this, I will have no curse from you or from her?”
“None,” said Vanye; and Erij named his oath and swore: it was one that even a half-Myya ought to respect.