White Road

you, Alec Two Lives.”
    “But you would have, if I didn’t give him up?”
    Rieser closed his eyes. “What choice do I have? Can you get me some water, please?”
    Alec filled the cup from a waterskin hanging on the wall and helped him drink. “I don’t want to fight you, Rieser, but I’m not going to go with you.”
    “You could be with Sebrahn.”
    “Until someone sticks a knife in my back.”
    “I would present you to our khirnari. She’s a wise woman, and would see your worth, as I have come to. You and your companions could have killed me at any time, or abandoned me after I was wounded. You still could, but I don’t think you will. You have great atui, all of you.”
    Alec’s eyes widened at the unexpected compliment. “Even Micum?”
    Rieser actually managed a strained smile. “Even Micum. If there were more Tír like him …”
    “And me? I’m half Tír. I was raised among them. There
are
more like us, whether you want to believe that or not.”
    “But too many of the bad ones. Would you wish on any of my people what happened to you?”
    “Of course not.”
    “Then believe me when I tell you that things are best left as they are. So far we have held our valley. If the Tír move north again, though? I think this time it will be war. Our valley is too precious to us.”
    Alec thought of the clan house at Bôkthersa, of the lakeand the village and the people who lived there in peace and prosperity. “If it comes to that, you should fight. But then people will know for certain where you are.”
    “We’ve grown in number since those early days. We could take your town of Wolde with ease.”
    “I hope it never comes to that.”
    “So do I.”
    “But I’m still not going back with you.”
    Rieser sighed and would say nothing more.
    As soon as the sails were changed, Rhal had the sailors hoist all canvas and pounded on for Skala. Rhal either shared their concern over Rieser or was anxious to have him off his ship; it was bad luck for a sick man to die on board. In the meantime Rhal’s shore party made their preparations, grinding swords and cutlasses to a razor edge and checking the buckles of their cuirasses and chain. Chain mail shirts were found for Seregil, Alec, and Micum, as well. This time they were prepared to meet the Ebrados.
    Nowen had stopped sending scouts into the hills behind the waterfall. Turmay had made it clear that it was an intrusion into Retha’noi land and that the number of people up there had increased, though he could or would not say how many, only that it was more than the number of Ebrados. All he would say was for them to stay out of the hills.
    Owls hunted and hooted in the darkness close by. There were so many here, for some reason. One little one had come down and perched on Sebrahn’s shoulder the other night. It had even let him stroke its back and wings. When it flew away, he followed it with his eyes, then pointed after it and said “aldrakin,” whatever that meant. Some Tír word probably.
    She looked around the fire that night, listening to the owls hunt and counting her people. Rane and Sona were on watch at the edge of the forest; the Retha’noi hadn’t circled around there—yet. With Thiren dead and Rieser gone, that left only eight of them: Taegil, Morai, Relian, Sorengil, Kalien, Allia, and Hâzadriën, who did not fight.
    And there was Sebrahn. He’d used his song magic againstthem once; would he do the same to the Retha’noi? She doubted it, after the conversation she’d had with him that afternoon.
    Kneeling before him, she’d taken his hands and he did not resist. He just stared up at her.
    “Will you sing for us, if we need you?”
    “Hurt?” he replied with no hint of expression.
    “Hurt those who hurt us.”
    “Baaaaad.”
    “Yes, they are bad. Will you help us?”
    “Help. No. Bad. Ahek no bad.”
    Whatever that meant, it didn’t sound like a yes.
    She scanned the heights, counting fires. There were six visible, and she could see dark figures crossing the firelight.
    How many of you are there? How are we supposed to get back through the mountains when the time comes?
    And then there was Turmay, who came and went between the two camps, and seemed troubled. But he still would not speak of what was going on. Nowen began to think of killing him in his sleep. She wished Rieser were here to make such a decision. The Ebrados did not take killing lightly.
    Manab, an elder of Sky village, ran a hand down the length of his