He groaned, and ran his hand through his hair. The firelight leapt on his face, and I thought I had angered him. When he spoke again, his voice was low and hoarse, his breathing quick and uneven.

“I curse the man who put that brand on you, Elsha! I curse our whole creed, that marks you Quelled and me Chosen. If I could put out my eyes or cut off my hands to wipe your forehead clean, I would. If–” His voice broke, and he turned away from me, towards the smoky kitchen. One of the girls looked up from plucking a hen, saw his face, and looked quickly away.

“Lord,” I said, “I promise that if I am ever in the north, I will try to find you. It shouldn’t be too difficult, with a whole army for your company.”

He turned back to me, and smiled. I looked straight in his face, not caring who saw. I had forgotten how beautiful he was. “I will always count you among my highest friends, my lord,” I said.

“Only among them, Elsha? Not highest? Not best?”

“The best can kiss my cheek, my lord, and hold my hand and play his pipes to me.”

“And I can only command an army for you,” he said, with a sad smile. “Tell me you won’t forget me.”

“I never forget my friends, lord.”

He knelt, suddenly, and touched the stone floor at my feet. When he stood up again, his eyes were wet. “I salute you, Elsha of the Quelled. In my heart I embrace you.”

Abruptly, he turned and left.

Shocked silence descended on the kitchen. I felt the women’s eyes on me; felt their amazement, their utter disbelief. Then a dog ran in, caused havoc among the hens, and several younger women rushed to put him out. I bent low over my vegetables, and could hardly see to work.

7

A Friend

THE MOUNTAIN AIR, misty and edged with snow, cut across my face and crept into my bones. My body ached with cold, and I could no longer feel my feet. My left forearm, heavily gloved and bearing my falcon, was numb with fatigue. Kallai sat hunched, hungry and stiff, his feathers fluffed. I could not fly him in this mist; we would lose each other in moments. So he had not hunted today, and we both were hungry.

The Firelord was further up the mountain, striding beside his donkey, oblivious of me. We had been travelling nine days now, and I was used to his need for solitude, his strange, quiet way of closing invisible doors between us. Sometimes he walked alone, remote, lost in a distant inner world. Sometimes when we were together, his eyes wore a veiled look, and I knew not to speak to him. But sometimes he was warm and amiable, easy-tempered and talkative. He did not touch me and was not tender, as Amasai had been, but he was gracious without being condescending, and I felt no strain between us.