supporting the poles of the litter. The men rose in a sudden column of rising wind and soared into the air and through the concealing underbelly of the clouds above within a few moments.
Aldrick waited until they were well gone to say, laconically, "You may have been a little hard on them. If the Crown wanted to craft someone into the Valley, nothing they could have done would have stopped him."
"You don't know Gaius," Fidelias replied. "He is neither all-knowing nor infallible. We should have moved last night."
"We'd have arrived amidst the storm," the swordsman pointed out. "It could have killed us."
"Yes, the nasty storm," Odiana murmured. "And then, too, ex-Cursor, you would not have been given enough time to enjoy the pretty slave child." The last few words of the sentence dripped with a kind of gloating glee. The woman smiled, her eyes sparkling, as Aldrick absently covered her mouth with his hand again. She bit at his fingers, letting out a soft growl, and the swordsman let her, a smile touching his mouth.
Fidelias stared hard at the water witch. She knew. He couldn't be sure how much she knew, about Aquitaine's wife and the aftermath of the dismal little scene the previous evening, but he could see knowledge glittering in her eyes.
His belly burned a bit more as he considered the possible consequences,
should Aquitaine learn of his wife's liaison with Fidelias. Aquitaine seemed the type to overlook the forest for the trees, at times, but he would surely have little patience with anyone who would risk humiliating him by lying with his wife. The few bites of biscuit Fidelias had managed to get down during the flight threatened to come hurtling up again. He kept the tension off of his face and thought that he would have to do something about the water witch: She was fast becoming a liability.
Fidelias gave her a flat, neutral little smile and said, "I think we should focus on the task at hand."
"Seems pretty straightforward," Aldrick commented. "Get on the horses. Ride to the meeting point. Talk to the savage. Ride out again."
Fidelias glanced around and then murmured for Vamma to fetch the horses. The earth fury moved beneath his right foot, a stirring in the ground of acknowledgment, and vanished. "I don't anticipate that the ride will be a problem. The savage might."
Aldrick shrugged. "He won't be a problem."
The former Cursor began tugging on his riding gloves. "You think your sword will alter anything for him?"
"It can alter all sorts of things."
Fidelias smiled. "He's Marat. He isn't human. They don't think the same way we do.'
Aldrick squinted at him, almost frowning.
"He won't be intimidated by you. He regards your sword as something dangerous-you'll just be the soft, weak thing holding it."
Aldrick's expression didn't change.
Fidelias sighed. "Look, Aldrick. The Marat don't have the same notion of individuality that we do. Their whole culture is based around totems. Their tribes are built upon commonality of totem animals. If a man has a powerful totem, then he is a formidable man. But if the man has to hide behind his totem, instead of fighting beside it, then it makes him somewhat contemptible. They've called us the Dead Tribe. They regard armor and weaponry as our totem-dead earth. We hide behind our dead totems rather than going into battle beside them. Do you see?"
"No," Aldrick stated. He slipped Odiana from his side and started to draw on his gloves, unconcerned. "That doesn't make any sense."
"Not to you," Fidelias said. "It makes perfect sense to a Marat."
"Savages," Aldrick commented. Odiana turned to the packs and drew
his scabbarded sword from it. He held out his hand, without looking, and she slipped the weapon into it, then watched as the swordsman buckled it on. "What happens if he doesn't cooperate?"
"Leave that to me," Fidelias said.
Aldrick raised his eyebrows.
"I mean it. Keep your weapon at your side unless everything goes to the crows."
"And if it does?"
"Kill everything that isn't you, me, or the witch."
Aldrick smiled.
"What do I do?" Odiana asked. Her duty to Aldrick done, she wandered a few paces away, drawing the toe of her shoe through the mud, lifting her heavier, warmer skirts enough to be able to study the buckles.
"Just keep an eye on the Marat. If you feel them get angry, warn us."
Odiana frowned and looked up at Fidelias. She placed a hand on the shapely curve of one hip and said, "If Aldrick gets to kill someone, I should get to as well. It's