“Earth and stone.” Bertaud rubbed his face again, then looked up and nodded. “Very well. I accept your word and your promise. Keep it, man. You may. In the end, if I must, I’ll reveal it myself.”
Of course he would. So long as…“Kairaithin cannot find a way to slip sideways around this… affinity of yours and kill you himself?” Jos tried not to sound too diffident. “To him, that must surely seem an acceptable solution, lord?”
Bertaud laughed, without much humor. “I’m confident he wishes he had when he had the chance. No. It’s too late now for him to reach after that wind. He can’t approach me without my awareness, and I’m alert to the possibility, I assure you.” He gazed down toward Tihannad for some time in silence.
Jos supposed the Feierabianden lord knew the measure and limits of his own gift. Nevertheless, he resolved to stay near him if he could, so he might at least cry a warning if Lord Bertaud was mistaken.
Bertaud nodded to Jos at last and led the way that last little distance down to the lake and then along the lakeshore road to the gates of Tihannad and, with some difficulty, through the crowd that pressed forward. But once at the gate, the men there recognized him, of course.
“Begging your pardon, but it’s the king’s orders, my lord, because of the trouble in the south,” an officer of the guardsmen told Bertaud. “Everyone to be let in, but we’re to direct them as best we may. Everyone’s taking in one or two families, and the king’s ordered temporary shelter set up for the rest—”
“Trouble in the south,” Bertaud said. He and Jos exchanged a baffled look.
“So they say, my lord,” said the officer. “Couriers have been riding in and out all today and yesterday, until one would expect them to wear out their wands as well as their horses. His Majesty is in his house, so far as we’ve had word here, and I’m sure he’ll be glad to see you, my lord, if you’ll go up. I’m sure we can find horses for you and your companion—”
“Thank you,” said Lord Bertaud, with a shake of his head that suggested, not that he was rejecting the offer, but that he had no more idea than Jos what might have happened in the south. “Yes, we would be glad if you could find an extra beast or two. Where in the south, do you know?”
The officer gave Bertaud a close look and lowered his voice. “Ah, my lord, I’m sorry if I’m the first to tell you so, but what we hear is those sly Linularinan bastards have crossed the river into the Delta, taking advantage of what they hope will be trouble here. I don’t know as whether that’s true, my lord. You should ask at the king’s house—”
“Yes,” Bertaud said, in a blank tone.
King Iaor received them without formality, in a large, plain room with five tables, where at the moment maps were spread out on all but one of the tables and pinned up on three of the walls. The king was attended by two of his generals and by the captain of his personal guard, and by another man for whom Bertaud spared a sharp look.
“Yes, my queen is returned, and my daughters, thankfully all safe,” said the king, evidently in explanation of that man’s presence. He opened one hand in a curt gesture, signaling that they need not bow or stand otherwise on ceremony. “They are come weary and bedraggled, but safe. Earth and iron, if I had known we rode on campaign, I would hardly have invited them to accompany me! Tell me that they will be safe here.” He cocked his head at Bertaud, who wordlessly shook his head.
“No?” said the king, and gestured for two of his attendants to unroll another map on the only clear table. He said, “One may possibly expect Tihannad itself to be protected by the intrinsic magic of the lake… we do expect so. Nevertheless, I think I will send the queen and my little girls north to Tiearanan. If there is trouble from any direction, it will surely come there last.”
“And from what direction do we expect trouble? From what other direction,” Bertaud amended. “From the south, is it? What is this I hear about Linularinum coming across the river into the Delta?”
The king nodded sharply. “Would I was able to deny that word! But I fear it is true enough. Niethe herself tells me she fled only just in time. Bertaud, I regret that I must inform you that your cousin Mienthe insisted on remaining in Tiefenauer.”
Lord Bertaud stood very still, as though he had received a blow and was waiting to feel the extent of the damage.
“Likely she is perfectly safe. Kohorrian will surely not allow his men to pillage, least of all your own house in your own town. He will not wish to offend the Delta so seriously—”