“I think,” I tried to push aside fear for a space and think on other things, “that you are more than you believe-or they give you credit for being. Why did you not carry through this geas they set upon you? I have heard, by legend, that a geas is a thing of great power, not lightly broken.”
Herrel came away from the pillar, stooped and took up from the ground a shirt which he drew on over his welted shoulders.
“Do not credit me with any great thing, Gillan. I give thanks to the forces above us, that I awakened from their spell in time. Or that you awoke me-since your voice came to me in that darkness where they had me bound. If you believe you can ride, then we must be gone. To catch up with the pack is what we need to do-“
He donned leather under-jerkin and then his mail, belting it about him. But when he picked up his helm he stood for a long moment, staring down upon the snarling cat crest and his eyes were hooded as if he looked upon that which he would like to thrust from him. However, after that short pause he put it on his head.
Then he turned to me, aiding me to my feet, putting about my shoulders not the heavy rug, but his own cloak. Then he half led, half carried me from the mound.
The moonlight was waning; it must not be far from dawn. Herrel whistled and his horse came to us, snorting a little, glancing from side to side, as if it perceived more lurking in the forest shadows than we could see. Yet Herrel displayed no interest in the woodland. He lifted me to the saddle and then mounted behind me. The stallion showed no distaste for a double burden but set off at a steady, ground covering pace.
“I do not understand.” I began. Herrel’s arms were about me warm and safe, the mail of his sleeves not harsh to the touch but rather reassuring in its rigidity. “I do not understand why Halse wanted me. Was it because his pride suffered when you fared well and he went bride-less?”
“It may have begun so.” he answered me. “But there was another reason, which came because you are you, and no maid of the Dales. From the first, the rest were one with those whose cloaks they wore in spell. You were not held so. They feared that. There was a chance, a last chance to bind you to us. When that failed, then you were open to what they would do.”
“A chance-?”
His voice was low, and I was glad he was behind me, that he did not see my confusion when he made answer.
“That night in the Safekeep, you refused me. Had it been otherwise, then all their spells could not have prevailed.”
I broke the silence which followed. “Then you named me witch, Herrel. Was that out of anger-or out of knowledge?”
“Anger? What right had I to anger? I do not take by force that which one chooses to withhold from me-for such must be freely given and in liking, or it has no meaning, not in my sight, nor that of Neave. I named you as what I think you are. Being so-you could do no else than say me nay-“
“Witch.” I repeated thoughtfully. “But I am not learned in aught but healing lore, Herrel. That is a craft, yet, but owes nothing to sorcery. Had I been what you named me, then never could I have dwelt at the Abbey-stead. They would have expelled me within an hour of my coming. The Flames and sorcery had naught to do with one another, and the Dames of the Abbey-stead would have thought themselves defiled by my presence.”
“Witchery is not the evil the Dalesmen think. There are those of another blood who are born to it. Lessoned in its use they must be, but the power over wind and water, earth and fire, is theirs by natural gift and not just from study. In the old days Arvon was not walled against the rest of the world. For all men then had touch with powers which lay not in their strength of arm, nor their minds, save as their minds could control such forces. We knew of other nations overseas which also used sorcery as a way of life. There was one wherein witches walked. And when we rode the waste, still we heard of that land, or what had come from its dwindling, for as Arvon, it had aged. There are witches still in Estcarp and with them Alizon wars.
“You think then I am of this witchblood?”
“True. You have not the lessoning, but within you lies the force. And there is this. They believe that a witch who gives her body to a man must put aside her witchhood.”
“If they never do, then how does their nation survive?”
“It dwindles amain by report. Also, this was not always true. It followed when some blight fell upon them long ago. Not all women of that land are witches, though they may mother daughters with the power. But she who has it is not wont to put it aside.”
“But I have had no lessoning. I am not truly witch.”
“If the power is in you, then it will strive to make you a proper vessel for its encompassing.”
“And the other Gillan?”
“The Gillan they try to fashion is not witch. They would not take such a threat among them.”
With each measured word Herrel sent me farther and farther into my own waste of exile. Would there ever be any rate for my return?
“Herrel-when I was with that other Gillan for a space-in the tent-and called to you-you knew me?”
“I knew-and learned then what had happened.”
“They dragged you away-then Halse sent me out of her.”
“Yes.”
“Would you have come searching for me, even if they had not sent you under geas?”
“I am not greater than the pack.” It seemed to me that he wished to evade my question. “I came-to their bidding.”
I had never been good at the understanding of people, the weighing of any emotions other than my own. Still, at this moment, was granted me a small flash of insight as profound, perhaps, as that any witch in the glory of full power could gain.
“You came because they could use your wish to lay the geas. Had there been no-no tie between us, then perhaps their bidding would not have sent you-“
I heard a sharp sound, or else a breath drawn in pain.
“Also, it was because of your thought of me that you broke that geas, Herrel! Remember that. For never have I heard of a man breaking a geas set in earnest spell-“
“What have you heard,” he demanded harshly, “save what lies in song and legend? The Dalesmen spin tales, and in them the kernel of truth is very small and hid. Do not find in me any virtue that I did not kill you to their bidding. I know well my shame-“
“Too long-“ I put out my hands, resting them on his where he held the reins before my waist, “too long have you accepted a lesser naming, Herrel. Remember, I came to your cloak, when those others laughed to see you leave it. Through their clouds of sorcery, ill meant, have we broken thus far. You have not failed in battle, or you would not have continued to ride with the Pack.” I paused, but he said nothing, so I continued:
“An arrow shaft alone can be broken between a man’s two hands by small effort. Set two arrows together and the task is less easy. All my life I have walked alone, an onlooker of the lives of others. So perhaps have you. But do not tell me that you are less than Halse, or Harl, or Hyron. That I do not believe!”
“Why did you pick up my cloak?” he asked abruptly. “Not because it lay the nearest, or because I saw it of great beauty. For, remember, I saw it as it was. But because when my eyes fell upon it, I could not turn aside, or do aught else than gather it up.” The mailed arms about me tightened, and relaxed. “This then-this much I did!”
“And the spell you laid, Herrel, must have been greater than the others, for I saw beneath the illusion. And you as you are-“
“Did you?” The momentary elation was gone from his voice. “Are you sure that you did not rather see the truth this night? Halse showed it you once in your very bed-“
“Truth may be not a sword with only two sides to the blade, so you look upon one and then the other. Rather it is like a faceted jewel with many faces. You may think you know one well, and another; then you discover a third, a fourth. Still they are all truth, or truths. I have seen you as illusion would make you for a bride’s be-glamoured eyes, as a Were Rider from the waste, as the beast-And I think perhaps there are still more Herrels I have not met. But it was Herrel’s cloak which brought me here and I have no regrets of that choice.”