White Road

rhekaro than any of its companions.
    What will you do when the time comes to part from Sebrahn?
Seregil wondered. His own doubts were exacerbated by guilt; if it had been up to him, he’d have been verytempted to tell Rieser to take Sebrahn and go. He was not proud of that, but knew it would probably be better for everyone concerned, including Sebrahn. If it was true that the Hâzadriëlfaie kept tayan’gil safe, then it was the best place for him. If Hâzadriën was anything to go by, then the tayan’gils were treated with respect. The others sometimes spoke to him and it was clear that they considered him their equal.
    The witch named Naba had left them after breakfast, but Seregil caught the occasional glimpse of other Retha’noi on the heights. Rieser and his people were keeping a watchful eye in that direction, too.
    “Think they’re going to drop another tree on us?” Micum asked in a low voice.
    “It would open up certain possibilities if they did, but I suspect they’re just making certain we keep going out of their lands.”
    “You see them?” asked Turmay, coming up beside them. “Those are Retha’noi people, too.”
    “The ones who blocked the road?” asked Seregil, though he had no doubt of it.
    “Yes.”
    “That’s what you meant by your oo’lu having a long voice, then.” The painted horn slung across Turmay’s back apparently had many uses, including putting one to sleep at the most inopportune moments, as demonstrated yesterday. “You signaled ahead. Or was it magic?”
    The witch just smiled.
    “Why did they help you? Because you are of the same people?”
    “I’m no kin of theirs. They helped me because they want you to go away.”
    “Are they frightened of Sebrahn?”
    Turmay shrugged. “They want all of you to go away. They don’t like strangers in their mountains.”
    “Tell me, Turmay, are you frightened of our tayan’gil?”
    “It is not a tayan’gil,” the witch said softly. “It is a monster.”
    They rested their horses by a stream at midday, then set off again as the way sloped down more steeply before them.The snow was fast disappearing and the meltwater turned the trail into a muddy stream in places.
    The forest grew denser, closing in around them and blocking out the sky. As they rode along in the pine-scented twilight, Seregil nudged Star up beside Rieser’s tall white horse.
    “That’s a fine-looking animal you’ve got there, Captain.”
    Rieser spared him a brief glance.
    “Do you really mean to go into Plenimar with us?”
    “I said so.”
    “You do realize that you’re going to have to pretend that Micum is your master?”
    That got the man’s attention. “What?”
    Micum overheard. “You didn’t think three ’faie could waltz into the Riga slave markets and tell them you’re only passing through, did you?”
    Rieser scowled at Seregil. “And you will allow this? To play the slave to this Tír?”
    Seregil gave him the crooked grin. “You’d be surprised, some of the roles I’ve played. And I might point out that the risk to Micum is just as great. Those caught with wayward slaves aren’t treated well, either.”
    “And you think you can fool these Plenimarans?”
    “Certainly. When you searched our baggage, you must have seen the metal slave collars. Those are one sign.” Seregil pushed back his sleeve and showed him the fake brand. “And this. More Orëska magic. Too bad our wizard isn’t with us, to fix you up properly. That’s going to be a problem.”
    Rieser snorted softly, then pushed his own sleeve back and passed his left hand over his forearm. An identical mark appeared on the underside. “I have no need of your magic. I have my own.”
    Ah ha! Got you. That explains who is maintaining Hâzadriën’s disguise
. This man might actually prove useful in a pinch. “No amount of magic is going to hide us from a necromancer or slaver’s wizard. Sometimes a bit of lying works better. So with Micum as our master, we should go unnoticed.”
    “And then what?”
    “Then I steal that book for you, we all come back, and you let us go.”
    Rieser just gave him a smug look and kicked his horse into a trot.
    “Now I trust him even less,” Micum muttered in Skalan.
    “Me, too, but he knows if he double-crosses us and tries to hurt Alec, Sebrahn will sing again. Maybe Sebrahn could kill a few more of them, in close proximity.”
    “Then all we have to do is get Alec to pick a fight with that surly young fellow Rane and