Wolf's Blood (26 page)

Gardener grunted, “Possibly because they had kept their most powerful magics there, and so hoped to find a cure. Still, I agree. I rooted through many letters, and all of what I read gave me the impression that the Fire Plague originated here.”

“The other thing we learned,” Hope said, “is that the Plague seems to have occurred all at once. It reappeared in waves, but those waves were unrelated to region or area.”

Firekeeper tilted her head to one side. “I don’t understand. Is this important?”

“It could be,” Powerful Tenderness replied. “Sickness does not usually occur all at once. Usually it spreads from person to person, like to like. Some sicknesses will only affect those closely related—say seagulls only. Others might harm all fish eaters. Still others all birds. Others, all creatures that live near water. It is often by looking at how a sickness spreads that the source of that sickness can be found.”

Firekeeper nodded. “I see. If only seagulls grow sick, then you might try and see what they eat that no other seabirds eat. If all seabirds grow sick, but not the seals or whales, then you might look for a cause to be found in sea air, not sea water.”

“Very good,” Powerful Tenderness said. “But as far as we can tell, the Fire Plague struck in distinct waves. First to be taken ill were spellcasters. Next to become ill were those with a strong talent. Then fell those with weaker talents, but other than those waves, there is no pattern to show how the Plague was spread. We have a letter written from someone in New Kelvin that notes when his teacher fell ill. The date matches the time when a journal written here on this very island notes someone of a similar ability falling ill, yet New Kelvin and Center Island are moonspans’ journey apart.”

“Not so far,” Blind Seer reminded, “when one remembers the gates. Those two might have dined together on the Nexus Islands and been poisoned at the same time.”

“We thought of that,” Hope said, “and did our best to make lists whenever places and dates were mentioned. There was some crossover, but not enough to allay our feeling that this lack of a pattern is in itself a pattern.”

Firekeeper bent her head humbly. “If I could read, I would ask to see these writings to see if there was some fresh trail I might find. However, I am—as Blind Seer often reminds me—a fool in these things.”

“I read a little,” Blind Seer said, not so much surprising Firekeeper as confirming something she had long suspected, “but I doubt I read the languages I would need.”

“Many of the documents are in an older form of Liglimosh,” Hope said. “Have you mastered that?”

“Only a few signs,” Blind Seer said, “and those the ones closest to the modern form.”

This did surprise Firekeeper. Both she and Blind Seer had initially experienced some difficulty in grasping human representational art. She remembered how much trouble she had experienced when she had been first shown a map. Now she understood a great deal more, and could even enjoy a painting or mosaic, but she had not thought that Blind Seer had progressed so far beyond her.

Hope continued to speak to Blind Seer. “I suspect then that you would have difficulty making sense of these documents. Our notes, however, are in the modern language, and you are welcome to review them.”

“I can only do so if someone else will turn the pages,” the wolf said. “My paws lack the dexterity to turn paper or unroll hides.”

“I would be happy to assist,” Surf Hands said. “I can set up a small loom in the scriptorium.”

Firekeeper felt distinctly useless, a sensation that was not made in the least better by her awareness that she had herself alone to blame.

“Someone,” she said, then remembered that she had told them about the Meddler, “the Meddler, suggested that the Fire Plague stank to him of a curse, rather than a real illness. Could this explain why it occurred in such an odd fashion?”

“We know little more about curses,” Powerful Tenderness said, “than we do about gates. What we do know tends to come to us through old tales about those who had been cursed. While these may hold a germ of the truth, they don’t tell us much about the making of curses. Could you ask the Meddler to tell you more?”

Firekeeper did her best not to look at Blind Seer, but her gaze slipped to where he sat beside her, and she saw his ears flicker back before he righted them into an attitude expressing curiosity, nothing more.

“I can try,” she said, knowing her words danced on the edge of a lie. “The Meddler is more likely to speak to me than me to him. Still, if we speak, I could ask him.”

The reality was that Firekeeper suspected that she could speak to the Meddler as often as she cared, but that she had been avoiding doing so. Now the possibility of calling on him tantalized her, making her heart beat strangely fast.

“The Meddler might tell us something useful,” Powerful Tenderness said. “Ask if the opportunity arises.”

Hope sighed and stretched. “You wolves are night creatures, but many of us have been up since dawn. Blind Seer’s inspection of the notes would best be done in daylight. Does anyone object to our parting ways until morning?”

No one did.

Firekeeper and Blind Seer departed for the forest to find Tenacity and Integrity and renew their acquaintance with that pack. Neither spoke to the other as they slipped among the trees, although the silence that hung between them was stiff with things that needed saying.

XIII

  WHEN KING BRYESSIDAN reconvened the meeting, the mood of the delegates had undergone a subtle shift. He made a small speech of welcome, then smiled in what he hoped would be taken as a self-deprecating fashion.

“For no other reason than that we have all met here, in my kingdom. I have taken it upon myself to head these meetings. Rumblings have come to my ears that some here believe that I have an agenda of my own that I am subtly seeking to promote. I assure you that I do not, but to support my claim I will, without further ado, let one of you raise the first topic for discussion.”

Actually, there had been no such “rumblings.” If anything, what Bryessidan’s spies had told him was being said of him was distinctly complimentary. However, Bryessidan wished to keep these chancy allies—allied first against his kingdom, as he must never forget—off balance. What better way to do that than putting each of them in the position of suddenly needing to choose against the very different but very real advantages offered by acting rather than reacting.

There was a long stretch of silence, long enough that it was becoming uncomfortable, before Kembrel Speaker from Hearthome broke it.

“Very well.” He rose, cleared his throat, then said again. “Very well.”

This time, he seemed to have decided what to say.

“Each of us is here because we have a gate in our lands. A door. A passage. Years have passed since King Veztressidan used what were then forgotten gates to further his ambitions. Indeed, enough years have passed that we are accustomed to thinking of those passages as going
from
our lands rather than
into
our lands. What my associate and I wish to ask is how might we control these passages?”

Kembrel seated himself heavily, trying not to look too pleased with himself for having the courage to speak first … even if what he had said was so obvious as to verge on the banal.

No one spoke; then Amelo Soapwort, who, along with Rae of Pelland, had been requested to attend, looked at King Bryessidan for permission to respond.

When Bryessidan nodded, Amelo rose, shook down the sleeves of his robe, and said in tones of measured politeness, “As my associates and I have found to our dismay, controlling the gates is all too simple. Bars of iron forming a cage across the entry will enable one to make the transit but not to leave the area—except by returning back through the gate itself. From our early experiments with attempting to open gates we learned that if a gate is walled up so that the portal is completely covered, then the person attempting the transit is bounced back to his or her point of origin.”

Amelo was only partway through his speech when Kembrel Speaker began shaking his head.

“I said ‘control,’ honored Once Dead, not block or restrict.”

Amelo looked down his nose at the man. “The gates are ultimately controlled by possession of the Nexus Islands, honored emissary.”

“Yes.” Kembrel rose again, rubbing his hands together like a workman eliminating the dust and grime of a day’s labor. “That is what I thought. Without the Nexus Islands, the gates are merely disadvantages to us all. They allow those we now no longer have the least reason to trust access to our lands, but refuse us advantage from those same gates.”

Kidisdu Laloreezo from u-Chival rose. “Surely the gates will be opened for service again. The Nexus Islands are habitable, but they are not in the least hospitable. Surely whoever rules there will wish to reestablish trade—and quickly, too, before we all find other alternatives to the services they offer.”

Chetuk Meadows of Pelland said, “My land is, as you know, renowned for the fertility of our fields. However, as you also know, we are not so blessed in metals. Over the last several years, we have been trading with Azure Towers and Tishiolo for some of what we lack. Each time, we have paid our gate fee in grain and other foodstuffs. I have been consulting with Rae, the Once Dead who accompanied me from my homeland, and we conclude that, unless the Nexans have been trading away much of what they received from us, they will not lack for food for years to come.”

Bryessidan raised his voice slightly. “Does anyone among you know of such trade? No? Interesting. So the Nexans are likely well-supplied with foodstuffs, unless, of course, whatever catastrophe led to their change in governments also led to this being destroyed.”

“Unlikely,” someone muttered farther down the table, and heads inclined in agreement.

“There is the question of how long can they wait without risking our taking our business elsewhere,” said Kidisdu Laloreezo.

Kembrel Speaker waved his hand dismissively.

“We may find alternatives,” he said, “but I think we all agree that the Nexans offer a unique service, one that we have paid for even though the tariff was high. I do not think they will be overworried about losing our business.”

“True,” Kidisdu Laloreezo agreed. “Although they may lose it nonetheless.”

“That is their risk,” King Hurwin said briskly. “I think, however, that Kembrel Speaker is correct in stating that we cannot use this as a means to judge whether or not they will reopen the gates with any speed. Tell me, Kembrel, are you stating that the only way we can be safe is if we have control of the gates?”

“We can have safety in other ways,” Kembrel said almost scornfully, “but as Amelo Soapwort has pointed out, these involve our either resigning to using the gates at the Nexans’ behest or giving the gates up entirely.”

Bryessidan said as mildly as he could, rather enjoying the role of peaceable facilitator, “Does anyone have any alternatives to those Amelo has suggested?”

No one spoke, but everyone looked at Kembrel. He only sat and looked at his steepled fingers.

“What my dear neighbor is suggesting,” said Loris Ambler of Azure Towers in a snide tone, “is that we somehow attempt to take control of the Nexus Islands. Easy to suggest, but rather hard to achieve. It is rather difficult to invade a land whose only border with your own is a patch of stone only wide enough to admit two people or so abreast.”

“You must admit,” Kembrel said smoothly, not bothering to rise, continuing to study his fingertips as if he was talking to them rather than to the assembled dignitaries, “there would be advantages. We could eliminate—or at least greatly reduce—the tariffs. We could establish free and prosperous trade between our lands. I admit, a cartload or two at a time is not a great deal, but it does add up over time. And most of us would choose to ship items more profitable than grain. I will say it, if none of you will. I dislike the current situation. Waiting would only make it worse. I wish to act.”

His queen, ever impatient, wishes him to act. No wonder he won’t look up from his fingertips. Hearthome already has a bad reputation for looking over its borders. He must know that in suggesting this he is reminding us all of that.

“Prettily stated,” Loris Ambler said, proving that people will speak tactlessly from dislike where they would never from fear. “But how do you propose we do this? Sling bridges across a gorge where never before there were bridges? Seek to suborn the locals? Take advantage of a little-used mountain pass?”

All of these were things Queen Iline had attempted over the years. All had eventually failed, but not without considerable loss of life and property on the Azure Towers side.

“You know full well none of these things would work,” Kembrel Speaker said sharply. “I thought we might use the gates themselves. A coordinated crossing from each of our gates into their central area would be disconcerting in the least. If, as we suspect, the Nexans are short of spellcasters, our allied forces could gain the upper hand.”

Amelo spoke: “May I remind you that we cannot cast spells when we are in such close proximity to iron? Or rather, we can, but the results are unreliable.”