David Drake - The Mirror of Worlds

"Since you believe you can." Shedidn't believe he could do it; neither did the hunters, judging from the sidelong glances they offered one another. Temple smiled faintly and bent to the stone block, easing his fingers into the cracks on either side. "You're going to have the weight of the ones it's touching to lift too, you know," Karpos warned, frowning. He'd locked his hands together and was flexing the fingers hard against one another. "Yes," said Temple calmly. "It's going to be difficult." His shoulders bunched; the tendons stood out on his arms. Ilna stepped farther off to the side. Temple had the same calm assurance as her brother Cashel. Though she couldn't believe he was really strong enough to pull the block out by himself…

Temple stood like a sun-drenched statue, bent and motionless save for drops of sweat dribbling from his hair. They ran down his back and massive arms. Stone ground on stones. Temple began to straighten, his arms withdrawing toward his body by a hair's breadth at a time. "It's coming!" said Asion. "By the Lady, it's coming!" The hunters scrambled up opposite sides of the mound, obviously expecting Temple to let the stone bounce away wherever its angles and gravity took it. Instead he dropped to one knee, rotated his palms upward, and tilted the block onto them. Straightening his legs cautiously, he set the block on the turf to the side of where they'd cut into the mound. "May the Lady shelter me," Karpos said softly. "I didn't think anybody… I just didn't think anybody could lift…" Karpos, who was more than ordinarily strong himself, was even more amazed at what Temple had been able to do than Ilna was. Ilna didn't know what the stone weighed; more than three men certainly, and perhaps a great deal more.

Temple turned, flexing his hands. His fingertips were bright red with the fierceness of his grip. He smiled and said, "You may look inside now, Ilna. And make up your mind." She stepped past him without speaking. Though irregular, the block had come out as neatly as a cork from a bottle; the stones around it remained as firm as a window casement. Those who'd built the mound were quite skilled despite their crude materials. Ilna smiled tightly. She'd always give craftsmanship its due, even when the craftsmen had used stone. She looked down into the chamber. The sun shone past her, and the crystal coffin within spread its light throughout the interior. It was indeed a tomb.

Despite the dust of ages and the scattering of dirt that'd fallen in while they prized at the stones, the coffin was clear enough for her to see the body of the man within. His skin was the hue of ivory, and there were no signs of decay. Ilna looked at her companions. "Chalcus was right," she said. "It's the man who took me…" She shrugged angrily, trying to find the right word. "To wherever it was," she snapped at last. "To a dream world. It's the Youth." "Did the Youth harm you, Ilna?" Temple said. It was just a question; there was nothing more in the words or tone than Ilna'd have expected if he was asking for a water bottle. Despite that it took conscious effort to keep her voice level as she said, "I told you: he snatched me away."

"Yes, and you returned," Temple said. The hunters were watching the discussion warily. "I assume you were allowed to return. That's not surprising, since he appears to be a God of peace. You lost a few minutes of your time with us, then?" "He…!" Ilna said. She stopped and felt a wry smile lift one corner of her mouth. "He gave me a chance to forget my duty," she said. "That's what you mean, isn't it?" "I don't mean anything, Ilna," Temple said, but he smiled also.

"I was just asking a question." "And if an opportunity was all I needed to forget my duty," Ilna continued, "then I'd be a poor excuse for a human being." She sniffed. "Well, there's enough of that sort in the world already," she said. "So no, I wasn't hurt." "Mistress?"

Asion asked. "What do we do now?" "Do?" said Ilna. "Cover up the tomb again, I suppose. Temple, do you want help in replacing the stone?" "I don't think that will be necessary, Ilna," the big man said, flexing his hands again with his palms out at arm's length. His smile was very broad now, and as warm as that of a mother looking at her newborn.

Ilna turned and walked a few steps away from the men as they started undoing the work of the afternoon. "Goodbye, Chalcus," she whispered to the setting sun. "Goodbye, Merota. I hope you understand." But in all truth, Ilna wasn't sure that even she really understood. *** Sharina stood near the marsh, watching Rasile take knuckle-sized chips of quartz from a leather bag and space them in a circle on the wet soil. The Corl wizard glanced at her and said, "I'm marking the points of a twelve-sided star around us." "Ah," said Sharina, nodding; a polite response to a polite explanation. Then she said, "Is this better than drawing the lines out the way, ah, others do?" She'd started to say, "the way Tenoctris does," but she'd caught herself. She didn't know Rasile-or the Coerli more generally-well enough to know what might be read as an insult. Sharina smiled. It was bad enough dealing with human beings whom you didn't know very well; and often enough you could say the wrong thing with people youdid know. Rasile smiled also, though her pointed teeth made the expression a trifle equivocal. "The figure in this world doesn't matter, Sharina," she said, "except for what it evokes in the wizard's mind."

The Corl gave her growling laugh. "For someone as powerful as your friend Tenoctris," she said, "I doubt any material symbol would be necessary to perform a task as simple as this." "Ah," Sharina repeated. She almost said that Tenoctris hadn't always been so powerful, but on consideration she let the thought rest unspoken.

Sharina knew she didn't begin to understand wizardry, despite having been close to Tenoctris for years and having beentoo close to other wizards during that period. She decided she was better off not offering opinions to Rasile, who quite obviously understood a great deal. The sun was fully down; stars would've been visible in the west if the mist hadn't already risen so thickly from the surface of the marsh. The fishermen Cashel had mentioned weren't out tonight; the only lanterns were those of the soldiers escorting Sharina and the wizard. Sharina smiled faintly again. Attaper hadn't wanted her to accompany Rasile. When she'd insisted, he'd asked Lord Waldron to send a company of skirmishers from the regular army along with his Blood Eagles. He wanted to be prepared for threats that heavy infantry couldn't fight hand to hand. The black-armored bodyguards waited in near silence, but the skirmishers-javelin-throwers from northern Cordin, shepherds in civilian life-squatted around small fires and chattered cheerfully. They'd melted cheese in a glazed pot and were dipping chunks of barley bread into it for supper. Water dribbled from the pool from which the Last had attacked Cashel, though it'd been piled high with brush to prevent the white star from reflecting on its surface. Lord Waldron had been ready to tear the curb down and block the spring with boulders, but Tenoctris had said not to; it might be useful. Sharina tugged her short cloak tighter around her; it was a cold night. She grinned at herself: anyway, it was a cold business.

She looked toward the southern sky but didn't see the white star.

Hadn't it risen yet, or was the mist just too thick to see it? The mist wasvery thick. "Are you ready, Sharina?" Sharina jumped; Rasile was standing at her side. "Yes," she said, smiling in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I was woolgathering." Rasile chuckled deep in her throat.

She nodded toward Sharina's hand, which'd reached for the Pewle knife hidden beneath a placket of her outer tunic. "You are a female," the wizard said. "I feared that the females of your species were trembling breeders like those of the True People. I see you are not." Sharina's smile widened a little. "Not all of us," she said. "Of either of our races, I'd judge. I watched Tenoctris pick you." Rasile laughed again.