Страница 80 из 101
Q'Daer took a breath. "It's the Forelander; I don't like him. You shouldn't, either. None of us should."
L'Norr shrugged. "I'm not sure I do like him. We've only known him for a few days. I haven't made up my mind about him one way or another."
"Well, I have," Q'Daer said, looking away. "He cares nothing for our customs. He argues with E'Menua at every turn and mocks us with his disrespect. We should send him away, and his whore and bastard with him. They have no business living in our sept."
"You've decided all this already?"
"Haven't you heard the others talking about him, about what a fine husband he'd make for U'Vara?"
L'Norr shook his head slowly. "I don't think Grinsa has any intention of marrying anyone. His woman might not be a Weaver, but I have no doubt that he loves her as he would a wife."
Q'Daer dismissed the remark with a wave of his hand. "That's not the point."
"Isn't it? You dislike him because he doesn't respect our ways. But in this instance, that's a good thing, right? He won't live by Fal'Borna customs, so he won't see any need to marry a Weaver. He's happy with the woman he has."
Just as Q'Daer had thought: His friend didn't understand the danger. And for now at least, perhaps that was all right. Q'Daer would take care of the problem himself, and so would reap the rewards that would come of getting rid of the man. Eventually, E'Menua would tire of the Forelander's disrespect. And when that happened, Q'Daer would be ready.
"You're probably right," he said, nodding and forcing a thin smile. "I think you're humoring me."
Q'Daer gri
"I am," he admitted. "But still, I see the sense in what you're saying. And anyway, there isn't much I can do about Grinsa right now. Let's gather the men, and go hunting for those dark-eye merchants." He looked to the west and then up at the sun. It seemed a fair day, but Q'Daer knew that a storm was coming. He could feel it in the wind. "I want to be back before nightfall," he said. "It'll be raining by then."
L'Norr said nothing. Perhaps he thought that Q'Daer had become too cautious when it came to storms, but he had the good sense to keep this to himself. He merely nodded, and they started off again in search of H'Shem and the other horsemen.
Crese
But it was Crese
What made all of this even more surprising was that she enjoyed the work. She'd spent her early days with her mother, roaming the kingdom of Wethyrn in the Forelands with the Crown Fair. Her mother had been a gleaner with the fair, following it from town to town, telling children of Determining and Fating ages what their futures would bring. Eventually, when she came into her power, Crese
She had also, quite unexpectedly, made a friend of her own. The woman's name was F'Solya, and she was the mother of twin boys just a few turns older than Bryntelle. Like the other Fal'Borna women Crese
But quite beyond her powerful build, beautiful round face, and widely spaced golden eyes, F'Solya struck Crese
On Crese
"Here early, eh?" she asked as she sat. "If I didn't know better I'd say that you actually like ta
Crese
"You'll tire of it after a time. Everyone does. I certainly did."
"Why don't you do something else then? It seems there are plenty of other chores to be done. They told me I could grind grain into meal, or gather roots, or…"
F'Solya was nodding. "Tired of those, too." She smiled, and started working on a hide. She might have claimed to dislike the labor, but the woman was a skilled ta
"She's well, thank you. How are your boys?"
"They're trouble, as boys always are. One of them would have been plenty, but two?" She shook her head. "The gods are testing me. No doubt about it."
They fell into another silence, until at last F'Solya looked up from her work, a small frown on her face.
"They're saying things about you. You and your man both."
Crese