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made her sadder than ever.
Suddenly Tanthe felt piercingly lonely. She'd loved them all, Rufe and
Saphaeyender and Auriel, and she'd lost them all.
She took a quick hard breath. Her self-pity never lasted long. This journey
was all that mattered now.
Their first attempt to enter Verdanholm had already failed. They'd returned to
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the Seer's hut and tried to recreate Tanthe's entry into the other-realm
through the well. It had taken persuasion and many gifts before the Seer even
let them try; then, as Elrill had predicted, no portal had appeared.
Now they were making for Eisilion, first to try the temple where Eldareth had
seen the Aelyr. Tanthe, though, was thinking of what Ysomir had said to her.
'Eld,' she said, trotting Redbird alongside Gany, 'I think we could be wasting
time going to Eisilion.'
'Really? How d'you make that out?'
'I think we should go straight to Torith Mir.'
Eldareth stared at her, looking uncharacteristically angry. 'Do you, Tan?
Why?'
1 know you'll think it's ridiculous, but it was something Ysomir said.
Sometimes she... she seems to channel other people's thoughts or knowledge.'
Her voice fell, though she suspected Elrill and Jthery -
riding ahead - could still hear her. 'People who are dead.'
He frowned. That's quite a claim. Do you think it's true?'
'Yes. said Tanthe. 'Thing is, Ymmi's never made things up. She's always been
transparent - so transparent she can't even protect herself very well - and
completely honest. And I've seen her do it. She said it came from Garnelys.
The best place to find a portal to Verdanholm is in Torith Mir.'
Eldareth was silent for a while. Then he set his teeth, and shook his head
vigorously. 'We won't have to travel as far as Torith Mir. We will find a
portal in Eisilion!'
'I'm sorry. said Tanthe, startled. 'I just thought I should tell you what she
said.'
'I hate to say this, Eldareth. Elrill added, turning in the saddle, 'but she
is probably right. There were more portals in Torith Mir, and more frequently
used. Their roth-energy is more likely to be active and accessible.'
Eldareth said nothing, but his expression would have cracked stone.
'What's wrong?' said Tanthe.
'It's simple. said Eldareth. 'We're not going to Torith Mir. I
cannot go to Torith Mir.'
*
*
*
Helananthe rode for half a day west of Parione, along the Meiondras Road and
into the Hethlas hills where, a bare few moons ago, her army had defeated that
of Garnelys. Purple clouds rolled over Hethlas
Rim, edged with gold. How strange to pass the site of battle, to see the
hillsides lying silent and drenched in summer rain.
She pulled the hood of her cloak deep over her face. With her rode Derione and
Serpeth, and a retinue of armed riders in their uniforms of green and violet.
Perhaps she would have the various uniforms changed, when time allowed, to
distance her own administration from that of her grandfather's. For she felt
that the people of Aventuria no longer trusted the monarchy as they once had,
with unquestioning love. Garnelys had destroyed their innocence.
It was a shame no one liked Lord Serpeth, she thought.
He was clever and indefatigable, and the fact that he'd changed sides in
battle showed shrewd judgement as much as opportunism . . . she was as certain
as she could be of his loyalty. But what sort of king would he make? She
grimaced. She must make a decision soon, but every day it seemed easier to put
it off until tomorrow.
The rain was easing off as they came to the meeting place on the Meiondras
Road. A long, flat valley curved back into the hills. Moving along it came a
mass of figures; strange hunched beings cloaked in dull browns and whites and
lichen-greens. For a moment she thought of toadstools, of strange woodland
growths that had torn themselves from the wild-wood and come crawling to life.
The royal party reined in. Helananthe's stomach kicked in apprehension.
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Ridiculous to be afraid, nothing to fear... Serpeth cleared his throat and
said quietly, 'Your majesty, I think it was inadvisable for you to come.
Derione and I could have handled this matter alone.'
'Come on, Serpeth, you know me. I can't bear to miss anything. she said,
grinning. 'They don't have to know who I am. As far as they're concerned, I'm
Lady Vyne, the Queen's representative.'
With the straggling mass of figures came cattle, the like of which she'd never
seen before. It was the cattle, more than anything, that seized her attention.
Ghastly-looking things, thickset and bloated, with fungus-white skin and
staring eyes. She felt dizzy suddenly, shook it off.
'Gods. Derione said suddenly. 'Ma'am, we should retreat.'
'Why?' She saw how pale he was.
'If we stay here, they'll be all around us in a few minutes!'
She imagined it; the gnomish figures and their ugly cattle flowing around her
and her guards, surrounding them, trapping them... She felt a touch of
Derione's panic but suppressed it.
'Hold your ground. she said firmly. 'Nepheter's braids, Derione, if you panic
at the sight of a few cattle-herders, what would you be like in a battle like
the Silver Plains?'
At once she regretted her sharp words, for Derione looked horrorstruck. She
wondered if it would be better to ride up the hillside, get above them. But
when the first of the herders came within ten yards of her, they stopped, and
the whole ragged mass shambled to a halt. Many pairs of eyes stared at her
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