Robert Hughes - The Prophet of Lamath

“I had been told the merchants could communicate with one another without the aid of messenger birds. It’s true. They can.”

“The powers?”

“Yes, it is some magical device that traps and focuses the powers, though how it works I certainly don’t know.”

“Yet you managed to listen in?”

“I was only able to hear one side of the conversation. I couldn’t tell if he spoke to only one man or two. Somehow he realized my presence and broke the contact.”

“He, who?” Dorlyth asked, ducking under a branch.

“Tohn mod Neelis,” said Pelmen, and Dorlyth nodded.

“And those he spoke to?”

“Only Flayh for sure. Who else, if anyone, I couldn’t tell.”

“Probably the elder of Ognadzu in Chaomonous.”

“Possibly,” Pelmen began, “and yet I doubt it. My guess is that Talith has arrested whoever holds that position now. I doubt he would carry a device this valuable into the dungeon with him.”

“Then who?”

“I don’t know,” Pelmen said as they reached the edge of the small wood and stepped into the meadow west of Dorlyth’s castle.

He slowed, looking up at the battlements of the keep and the guards who stood there, more interested in their private conversations than in the business of watching the horizon. “But I do know this. You and your house are in grave danger.” Dorlyth wasn’t the slightest bit surprised. “When you show up, trouble can’t be far behind. Did he say when he would march?”

“I don’t believe Tohn has even made the decision to attack yet. Someone-Flayh, I’d wager—seemed to be pushing him to. Even so, I think it is time for me to take the girl and be gone.”

“You just got here!” Dorlyth argued.

“Nevertheless, it’s time to go on. If Tohn does choose to come, he will not find me here. You can let him inspect your dungeon and your keep and send him on his way. That should give us a two-day head start, enough to reach the forest.”

“I take it you’re going south?”

“And I hope Tohn thinks the same thing,” Pelmen smiled. “We’re riding north—to Lamath.”

“LAMATH!” Bronwynn exploded as they ate the evening meal. “What are we going to Lamath for? You plan to sell me to the King of Lamath yourself?” Her blue eyes snapped angrily. Rosha, seated across the table, found those eyes far more bewitching than his peas. She caught him watching her. “And what are you looking at?” she spat. His peas weren’t so bad to look at after all, he decided, and focusing on his plate alone he began to shovel them in.

“We are going to Lamath because that’s the safest place to go,” Pelmen explained, his patience wearing thin.

“How can you say that? They’re the ones who were trying to capture me!”

“Then they certainly won’t be expecting you to come there, will they?” Dorlyth asked quietly, stuffing a chunk of meat into his mouth.

“But why can’t I go back to my father?” she demanded of Pelmen.

“Because it was someone in your father’s castle who made a captive of you in the first place.”

“How do you know that? You can’t prove it.” She slammed her spoon down on the table and sat back in her chair, crossing her arms petulantly. She waited for Rosha to look up so she could say something nasty to him, but the young man had better sense than to do that. All she saw was the top of his head and the movement of his fork from plate to mouth and back again.

“I’m going to have to ask you to trust me in this,” Pelmen said gravely, trying a new tactic with the girl. “I’ve not betrayed you yet, have I?” Bronwynn wouldn’t look at him. She took another bite of meat and chewed it without tasting. “All right,” she grumbled, but her fury was still quite evident. She was tired. Tired of running away, tired of meeting new people, tired of trying to get Pelmen to notice her the way she wanted him to. She was also tired of this simple food. She liked variety in her diet, and was used to delicacies from the kitchens of a King. This all tasted bland.

And she resented, too, the way the savage youth across from her was stuffing it in. She pushed the plate away, and folded her arms again.

“Better eat,” Pelmen said in as kindly a way as possible.

“I’m tired of your telling me what to do! I am heir to the throne of Chaomonous and am fully capable of managing my own life!” She jumped up from her seat and stomped toward the door. There she hesitated and looked back. “If anyone wants me, I’ll be with my falcon.” Then she was gone.

Pelmen gazed angrily after her, missing the snicker Dorlyth and his son exchanged across the table.

“You’re going to take her to Lamath, are you?” Dorlyth teased.

“I’m tempted to carry her to Tohn and beg him to take her oft my hands.”

“She’s still a girl, my friend. Keep reminding yourself. Do you really expect anything different from Talith’s daughter?” Pelmen said nothing, deciding he would enjoy his dinner regardless of the conversation. Dorlyth waited for a moment, then cleared his throat. “Rosha and I have talked this over, Pelmen, and we’ve agreed. You’re going to need help handling this lady.” Pelmen looked up at Dorlyth, suspicion written in his knitted eyebrows. “You said yourself the lad was ready. I’m sending Rosha with you.”

Pelmen grimaced, then pleaded, “Already I’m burdened with a predatory Princess! Would you force a love-struck lad on me as well?”

“Love-struck he may be,” Dorlyth said, watching Rosha’s face flush once again, “but you’ve watched him practice. He’s a formidable swordsman, as you’ve said yourself.”

“But the two together—!”

“—may help keep one another in line. Pelmen, I’m sending the boy not for his own sake alone. I send him for you as well.”

“You think I may need a swordsman.”

“Yes. Oh, not in the Mar, certainly—a powershaper has no more need of a warrior than he does of a flint. But you are not always a powershaper, Pelmen, and you travel to Lamath.”

“Where my actions are suspect?”

Pelmen asked, smiling grimly.

“Where your actions are confusing, to say the least. You’ve said yourself you have no way of knowing who you might be there or what you might do! I send my son with you only because I can’t go myself.”

“You may find you need him here. Who can say what might happen next?”

“I’ve made my choices, old friend. I wish him to travel with you. Rosha!”

Dorlyth said, turning to his son.

“Yes, F-father?”

“Go. Prepare yourself to ride with Pelmen.”

“I’m al-r-ready r-ready,” the boy grinned.

“Oh. Well then—go prepare some more.”

“W-why don’t you j-just tell me to leave?” Rosha chuckled.

“All right, I will. Leave!” The boy hauled himself out of his chair, shook his bead good-naturedly, and left the room.

“On his way to the aviary I’ll wager,” Pelmen muttered.

“Pelmen,” Dorlyth began with an intensity that demanded his friend’s attention, “it’s time for the boy. Take him with you.”

“But what if war should come to Dorlyth’s castle—”

“Especially if war comes to this keep do I want him with you!”

“Oh,” Pelmen nodded.

“Teach him, Pelmen. I’ve taught him everything I know—but that’s not enough. He’s more than I was. He’ll be worth something—if he lives.”

“Dorlyth—I don’t understand. I’m going to Lamath. I don’t know what I will become there—I can’t be trusted even with myself. And yet you want me to protect the boy?”

“No!” Dorlyth thundered, frowning. “I want you to teach the boy. If I thought anyone could protect him, I’d keep him here. No one can. But it is possible to teach him. When he leans—I wager he’ll protect not only himself, but you and the girl as well.”