Fires of Azeroth

"Nehmin is one dire concern, and I suppose that H is somewhere close about Azeroth, though I do not see it on your map. But the Narn itself… could become a threat, a road to lead them through your heart."

"Indeed you do see. It leads too close to the land of the sirrindim. It is a threat much beyond Mirrind… we do see that. In war, we would swiftly decline and die. The invaders must be held in Azeroth… above all they must not open a way to the northern plains. Of all directions they might have gone, that is the most deadly to us… and I think that is the direction they will choose, for you are here, and they will surely find that out."

"I understand you."

"We will hold them." There was sorrow etched deep in the old qhal's face. "We shall lose many of our numbers, I fear, but we shall hold them. We have no choice. Go now. Go and sleep. In the morning you will go with Lellin and Sezar, and we shall hope that you keep faith, lady Morgaine: I have shown you much that could greatly harm us."

She inclined her head, respecting the old qhal. "Good night, my lord," she murmured and turned and left. Vanye replaced the lamp carefully on its hanging chain near the old lord's chair, thinking of his comfort, and when the aged qhal sat down, he bowed too, the full obeisance he would have shown a lord of his own people, forehead to the ground.

"Man," said Merir gently, "for your sake I have believed your lady."

"How, lord?" he asked, for it bewildered him."

"Your ma

He was stricken by this, knowing that they would fail that trust, and he was frightened. All at once he felt himself utterly transparent before the old lord, and soiled and unclean.

"Protect Lellin," the old qhal asked of him.

"Lord, I will," he whispered, and this faith at least he meant to keep. Tears stung his eyes and choked his voice, and a second time he inclined himself to the mat, and sat back again. "Thank you for my lady, for she was very tired and we are both very weary of fighting. Thank you for this time you have given us, and for your help to cross your lands. Have I leave to go, my lord?"

The old qhal dismissed him with a soft word, and he rose and left the tent, sought Morgaine's in the dark, on the rim of the gathering. The merriment there still continued, the eerie sounds of qhalur singing.

"We shall both sleep," Morgaine said. "And the armor is useless. Sleep soundly; it may be some time before we have another chance."

He agreed, and put up a blanket for a curtain between them, suspended from the cross-pole; gladly he stripped of the armor, and of clothing, wrapped himself in a blanket and lay down, and Morgaine did likewise, a little distance away on the soft furs provided for their beds. The makeshift curtain did not reach the floor, and the light of the fires outside cast a dim glow within. He saw her gazing at him, head pillowed on her arm.

"What kept thee with Merir?"

"It would sound strange if I said it."

"I ask."

"He said that he trusted you because of me . . that if there were evil in us, it would show-between you and myself; of course they take you for one of their own."

She made a sound that might have been a laugh, bitter and brief.

"Liyo, we shall ruin these people."

"Be still. Even in Andurin, I would not discuss that; Andurin is laced with qhalur borrowings, and I do not feel secure in it. Besides, who knows what tongue these sirrindim speak, or whether some qhal here may not know it? Remember that when we travel with Lellin."

"I shall."

"Yet thee knows I have no choice, Vanye."

"I know. I understand."

Her dim face seemed touched by that, and a great sorrow was on it

"Sleep," she said, and closed her eyes.

It was the best and only counsel in the matter.