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"So, we're not looking for a settlement. You've known this all along." "It didn't seem like the type of thing you'd want to hear about."
She gave him a sour look, though it was all she could do not to laugh. "Is there anything else I should know?" Before he could say anything she raised a hand and shook her head. "No, don't answer. I said that I didn't want to hear."
Perhaps two hours later, they came within sight of what looked to Crese
Crese
"Are you ready to meet the Fal'Borna?"
For several days, she'd been looking forward to doing just that, but faced with the prospect of riding into this odd-looking village that stretched out before her, Crese
"I think so," she said. "Are you?"
"As ready as I'm likely to be."
They looked toward the village again, and saw four riders coming toward them, their hair gleaming white in the sun, spears held ready.
"Seems we'd better be ready," Crese
She glanced at him. He was sitting straight-backed and tall atop his mount, his eyes alert, the muscles in his jaw bunched.
"No time now," he said, his voice low and tight. "Let me do the talking. They're a patriarchal clan-more so than most, at least here on the plain. Only speak to them if they ask you a question."
She nodded, feeling foolish for ever having been impatient with his precautions.
The Fal'Borna rode swiftly, and as they came closer Crese
They stopped a short distance from where Crese
"You're on Fal'Borna land," one of the men said, his voice sharp. He was a young man, powerfully built, with a square face and skin that was almost golden, like the color of freshly baked bread. Crese
"My name is Grinsa jal Arriet. This is Crese
The man showed no surprise at this last bit of information, but merely asked, "Why are you on Fal'Borna land, Forelander?"
"Our ship made land in Aelea. We had no choice but to cross Eandi land as quickly and directly as possible. That brought us here."
This seemed to satisfy the man, at least for the moment. "You ride proud animals," he said. "You got them from the Eandi?"
"Yes, we did."
He nodded, regarding the horses for another moment before looking at Grinsa again. "Are you bound to a clan, Forelander?"
"Not yet, no."
"But you intend to be?"
"Perhaps."
"You're a Weaver."
The guard in Yorl also had known that Grinsa was a Weaver, and though Crese
"That's right."
He glanced at Crese
Something in the way he asked this told Crese
"No, she's not."
Again, the man nodded. "The Qirsi of rival clans are not permitted to cross Fal'Borna land without leave from the Tesserate."
"I've already told you: We belong to no clan."
"But you also say that you might bind yourself to one."
"We might bind ourselves to the Fal'Borna," Grinsa said.
The man gri
"Fine then," Grinsa said coldly. "Where will I find this Tesserate of whom you speak?"
"Thamia, on the north shore of the Ofirean. And the Tesserate isn't a person. It's a council. It could take several turns to gather all its members and the clanlord so that they can render a decision."
"What is it you want?" Grinsa asked.
"What makes you think I want anything?"
Grinsa didn't answer, at least not directly. But an instant later Crese
Grinsa didn't appear concerned. He gri
The man's grin had vanished, but he didn't look particularly troubled by what Grinsa had done. He nodded once more. "Good, Forelander. Very good. A Fal'Borna Weaver would have gotten to it faster, but you're a stranger here, and I'll assume that you were trying to show some patience."
"He was testing you?" Crese
"He's a Weaver, too," Grinsa said, his eyes never leaving the man's face.
Another Weaver. At least she'd been right in assuming he knew without asking that she wasn't a Weaver. A Weaver could sense without asking what magics another Qirsi wielded.
"My name is Q'Daer."
He dismounted and stooped to pick up the head of his spear, which looked to be made of bone. His companions did the same, and a moment later Grinsa dismounted as well. He cast a quick look Crese
"A Fal'Borna wastes nothing," he said. He extended both hands to
Grinsa. When Grinsa put his hands out, the man gripped Grinsa's wrists in such a way that Grinsa could do the same. "That is a proper Fal'Borna greeting."
"You honor us," Grinsa said.
"You're a Weaver," the man said, as if that explained everything. "A
Weaver with no clan-" He stopped himself and smiled thinly. "I'm getting ahead of myself. The a'laq will want to see you. We can talk after."
"The a'laq?"
"Every sept has an a'laq, a leader. Ours is named E'Menua, though you're to call him A'Laq."
Q'Daer returned to his horse and swung himself onto the animal's back. "Follow," he said.
The other Fal'Borna remounted and rode after the man, leaving Grinsa and Crese