saw lies, whatever you saw.” Her voice hardened. “And you believed the lies because they spoke to the darkest corner of your heart.” For the third and final time, she ordered, “Take him to my grove.”
The circle of farmers opened, letting Yohan and the stumbling, weeping boy through. Then it sealed again. Ignoring Zvain’s cries, they listened as Telhami described the defense Quraite would mount against Escrissar’s inevitable assault.
Until Zvain’s wails could no longer be heard.
* * *
Quraite had two defenses: the power of its guardian, which only Telhami and Akashia could effectively wield, and the formidable natural barrier of the Sun’s Fist. Plant magic of the sort Zvain had tried to wield could have no effect in the Fist where nothing grew to energize it. Templar spell-craft would work, Pavek suspected, if Escrissar were foolish enough to invoke King Hamanu’s name.
On the other hand, the sorcerer-king might well destroy Quraite once he knew where it was; his power was such that no one, not even Telhami, could stand against him; and without Telhami or another druid to shape and focus it, the guardian’s great power would lie dormant no matter how great the danger.
Pavek doubted that Escrissar would invoke templar spell-craft, and told Telhami so.
“But while the king might destroy Quraite,” he concluded, “he will destroy Escrissar. The interrogator’s playing both ends against the middle. If what the Moonracers said is true, and Escrissar has sent Laq to Nibenay with Urik’s seal on it, then he’s gone much too far. Hamanu coddles his pets, but he’ll destroy them if they cross him. There’s always someone else waiting to take a favorite’s place. Unless Escrissar’s ingratiated himself with Nibenay’s Shadow-King, the only spellcraft you’ve got to worry about is your own.”
He waited for Telhami’s response. The discussion—reduced to the druid and farmer elders, Yohan and himself—had moved inside her hut. Akashia would’ve been included if she’d had the strength. As it was, she was resting reluctantly in her hut, with a pair of women posted outside her door to see that she stayed there.
Pavek hadn’t been included, either, at least not by invitation; but he hadn’t been told to leave—yet.
“And do you judge it likely that the Lion’s pet would find favor in Nibenay?” Telhami’s hat hung on its peg. She framed her question with a single upward-arching eyebrow. “The kings don’t trust the templars they themselves have raised; they certainly wouldn’t trust a templar another king raised. The Shadow-King could lie as easily to Escrissar as Escrissar lied to Zvain—and abandon him just as easily.”
“You think I was too harsh with him, don’t you?” It was not the response he’d been expecting, not a subject he wanted to consider, especially with witnesses. “I don’t think at all,” he stammered. “I shouldn’t be here ”
“Nonsense. We need to know what you think, and you need to know what I decide. The boy is nothing—part of Escrissar’s villainy. A small but important part through which Escrissar could attack your greatest weakness, and so win Quraite.”
“Weakness?”
“Your humanity, but a weakness nonetheless. Done is done, Pavek, but he won’t reach us through that one again. Despite what the boy would have us believe, Escrissar won’t come with magic, and he won’t come with ten thousand men, but he won’t likely come alone, either. For a while, weeds will grow rampant in our fields; you and Yohan will drill our farmers with hoes and flails. We must be ready for an ordinary battle, mustn’t we?”
“It won’t be ordinary, Grandmother,” Yohan interjected. “Escrissar’s a mind-bender. He doesn’t need any help to spew his nightmares.”
“But he does need help to clean up after himself and his nightmares. You deal with those minions. I’ll deal with Escrissar.” Telhami stared past them all. Her lips tightened into a thin smile. “I’ll deal with the interrogator—personally.”
* * *
A kank-back journey from Urik to the guarded lands took four days. Quraite had that long, at a minimum, to prepare for Escrissar’s assault, if they believed Zvain told the truth when he said that his master would come as quickly as he could. And in that matter, at least, no one doubted Zvain’s veracity.
Quraite might have even more time. The more men, weapons, and supplies Escrissar brought with him, the longer it would take to organize the expedition. That was an inescapable fact of military life every templar, regardless of his rank or bureau, well knew. And Escrissar could hardly assemble his supplies in public or march out of the city