888

Tariro

Chapter 5: Welcome

888

It was hard to get Emma to stop staring. As soon as she'd found out who the redheaded woman in her healing room was, she could barely concentrate on healing the concussed man they'd brought her. Her eyes kept getting drawn away from her charge until Alanna got impatient and scowled back at her. The healer flushed and looked away, watching the purple knot on Markus' head shrinking back from the butter-yellow light of her gift. By the time his eyes opened, the crowd of men had settled comfortably around the room, chatting as if they were by their own fireplaces, and the awkwardness had faded a little.

Emma was a bandit. Her parents were bandits, and their parents before them. She had been raised to fear people like this- the ones who were so comfortable with their weapons that they could draw them in their sleep. They unnerved her. And purple eyes just seemed plain unnatural to her. Her usual brazen streak failed her, and she decided to ignore them completely and talk to Daine instead.

"I'm glad you're back," she started, "But... it might make things difficult. For Morgan, I mean, not for me."

"He told me to come back," Daine pointed out, picking at the knot which still held the sling to her back. She'd tied it so tightly it refused to let go, and Sa was fussing. Emma rolled her eyes.

"Well, he would, wouldn't he? He doesn't hear the whispers, always down in the crypt. But we do. Tyro hears the men, and I hear the women. You remember that mob?"

Daine nodded. She'd heard about it from Tyro after Numair had brushed the whole thing off as a small annoyance. Emma's mouth twisted wryly and she tried to explain the way the bandits were thinking.

Although they were still split into groups, they all agreed on one thing: there was something suspicious about Elan's disappearance. If it was the spell that had done it, then why hadn't it affected the tall mage who spent all his time there? Many of them doubted that there was anything magical about the disappearance at all, and still hunted the labyrinth of the palace for their old leader's remains. Numair's explanation had convinced many of them, but even they flatly refused to believe that Elan would poison his wife and child. All that explanation did, they whispered to each other, was prove that there was something between the mage and Arra. Several of them demanded that Morgan be locked up, or at least properly questioned as to whether that something was worth killing for. When Arra had disappeared too, these demands quietened. If Elan had been killed for his wife, then she wouldn't have vanished. They stopped looking suspiciously at the mage, noticing his anger after the girl disappeared and nodding knowingly at each other, but looking for another explanation. The one thing they all agreed on was dark and absolute: someone had to pay for this crime.

"Now you're back," Emma finished, "They'll start looking at him again. And bandits ask their questions at knifepoint, Arra."

"I can explain to them," Daine started, and Emma shook her head.

"You're too close to the whole thing. They won't believe you. If you try to defend him it'll just confirm what they already think- and you know that cuckolds pay with their lives in our law. If you stay quiet..." she bit her lip and shrugged, "Well, if it looks like you don't care then they might think that you don't care."

Daine nodded, thinking that over. Emma realised that she needed some time, and decided to introduce herself properly to the strangers by offering them a drink. Soon they were all toasting her kind hospitality, which made her feel much happier, especially when one of them offered to top up the drinks with the mysterious contents of his hip flask. When Emma could meet her strange purple gaze without flinching, Alanna grinned and introduced herself. The room was soon quite noisy and filled with laughter, jokes and the musty smell of wet clothes drying by the fire.

Lost in her thoughts, Daine finally managed to find the end of the knot, and started to tease it through the rest of the threads. When she finally managed to untie the sling, she laid the baby gently on the floor and stretched, feeling her back muscles protest at the sudden lightness. Sarralyn realised she preferred feeling squashed to the sudden cooler air away from her mother, and started whining until she was picked up again.

"Well, you still sound like a piglet to me." Numair laughed at the surprised joy in Daine's eyes, and then held the baby clear when she launched herself at him. He hugged her back with one arm, unable to stop smiling. "Hello sweetling! Did you miss me, then?"

She kissed him in reply, not caring that a chorus of wolf-whistles had started across the room. It was hard to care that people were watching when he held her like that, his arm tightening around her waist and drawing her deliciously close.

"When did you get here?" She asked breathlessly. He nodded at the soldiers, who were welcoming Tyro into their group as if he'd always been there. The bandit received polite applause when he accepted a drink, and then cheers when he produced a hip flask of his own.

"Tyro heard some rumours about some strangers arriving here, and of course he had to make them welcome. Well, it's his job." He grinned at the party that had started and casually sent wards into the corners of the room. Daine rested her head against his shoulder. It was impossible to feel like she shouldn't care when she was this happy. Still, she had to ask.

"What about you, though? Emma said..."

"Yes, I know. She keeps telling me, as well." Numair made a dismissive gesture, his voice flippant, and then smiled reassuringly when he saw the worry in Daine's eyes. "Don't worry. If anyone asks, I came to see the healer and you just happened to be here, ignoring me." He kissed her again, whispering with delicious warmth in his voice, "What a happy coincidence! We'll just have to be more careful we don't get caught, that's all."

"Because you're being so subtle right now..." Tyro drawled from nearby, making them both jump. The bandit choked back a laugh and held out a hand, waiting for Daine to take it before he spoke again. "I just wanted to welcome you back, Arra. That idiot's been at a loose end this past month. And, Morgan, the lady with the delightful death-glare says that this reunion is very touching, but it's been a year since you've seen her, and if you don't at least say hello she'll be very annoyed."

"Alanna never uses the words 'very annoyed'," Numair said with a grin, clearly enough for the knight to overhear. Tyro shook his head.

"Ah, no, but I'm too well-raised to repeat her actual words. My dear mother would weep if she heard me, and return from the black god's realms to wallop me."

Numair laughed and let go of Daine, moving Sarralyn into the crook of his arm before he walked over to Alanna to say hello. Playing along with her mock-fury, the soldiers all greeted the newcomer by complimenting him on his human shield: come on, Lioness, you wouldn't scowl at a man carrying a baby, would you?

Daine hung back, wanting to talk to Tyro while the mage was distracted. Emma's news still bothered her. She started bluntly, "Tyro... would it be better if I left again?"

"Too late for that, lass, they already know you're back." The bandit clapped her on the shoulder and grinned. "Don't worry too much. My folks have a lot more to worry about than that story, and... well, she probably didn't tell you this, but a lot of them are too scared of your friend there to make a move. He knocked out all of Elan's bodyguards in a heartbeat, you know."

"He doesn't like doing things like that," she murmured, watching Alanna hug the man in greeting. They both slapped each others' shoulders as they parted, man to man. Tyro raised an eyebrow and shook his head.

"Well, just don't tell them that and it'll be fine. And don't be kissing him in public, either." He held up his hands protectively when she pulled a face at him, laughed and ducked over to the soldiers.

Without a word, it seemed to be agreed that the night was for relaxing, drinking and feeling the warmth of the fire, and nobody was allowed to talk about anything serious. The soldiers were all used to spending months in the field, and they knew a good camp when they found it. Safe behind the wards, they sang and played cards and teased Emma, Tyro and Numair mercilessly until everyone fell about laughing. Numair spent a good ten minutes scolding Kray for teaching his daughter to gamble, until he found out that she had won. Then he spent the next half hour asking if there was a career in pebbles. Emma, Lee and Alanna spent their time arguing over healing methods, grabbing the unsuspecting Markus and poking him to prove their points when they disagreed. Tyro found out that two of the other men had used their magic to speed the ship along, and started asking about magical sailing techniques.

The night passed. Being underground in the sealed room, they had no concept of time. Daine guessed it was late when Sarralyn started to grizzle, and took her from Numair so she could feed her, change her, and put her to bed in Emma's quieter, darker room. The fire in there had died down, and by the time she'd gradually coaxed it back into life and settled the baby the main room had gotten quieter. When she returned, half of the soldiers were sprawled around the fire, fast asleep. The remaining few were finishing their conversations in whispers, yawning widely at regular intervals while they pulled their bedrolls from their packs. Numair had borrowed a spare blanket from Emma- leaving to go back to his own room at this time of night would raise more comment than staying- and when Daine curled up next to him he wrapped his arms around her in a warm, safe hug.

"We need to talk," Daine whispered, the words slurred in their sleepiness. He kissed her temple.

"Yes, and we will in the morning, I promise. Go to sleep, magelet."

888

The morning dawned with no change in the light, but with a chorus of groans from the men who had shared too much of Tyro's homemade liquor. Emma's brassy voice chided them merrily as she built up the fire, taking their complaints in good spirits and telling them to drink some water. The healer shook the shoulders of everyone who was still asleep, blankets pulled over their ears, and greeted them with a Good morning, sleepyheads!

"Goddess bless us, she's a morning person." Alanna rubbed her birds-nest of tangled hair grouchily, determined to stay under the blanket until the fire was warm enough. Emma grinned at her and tugged the blanket down.

"That's right, sunshine!" She cackled evilly at the deluge of cursing and tripped off to draw some water, obviously having a great time. Alanna glared after her, and then sighed and looked around at her hand-picked troops. They all looked slightly crumpled in the new day- comfortable living had worn them out more than weeks of sleeping in the field. A few bedrolls over, she saw Numair carefully getting up and tucking the blanket back around Daine.

"Didn't Emma wake her up, too?" the knight asked softly. Numair shook his head and combed through his hair with his fingers, making it frizz.

"No, she always lets her sleep. Daine's... well, she's not been well."

Alanna stretched and thought about combing her own hair. The thought didn't make it as far as her hands; she simply shook her head to make the mess lie flat. "She had a baby. That'd wear anyone out." She thought about that and amended the comment so it didn't include herself. "Most people, anyway."

"She was poisoned." Numair said it so flatly, trying to hide a yawn, that Alanna thought she'd heard it wrong. When it had sunk in she glanced at the peacefully sleeping girl again, seeing her weariness through a healer's eyes rather than a warrior's.

"She didn't tell me," the knight whispered, struck. The mage made an empty gesture.

"Keeping secrets is a big part of this island. After a year, I guess that it's second nature." He shrugged in self-mockery. "But that's not the sort of thing you want to talk about before breakfast."

Alanna agreed, but pestered the man with so many questions during breakfast that she had most of the story before it was over. Each of the soldiers ate quietly, chatting to each other about the weird fishy vegetables they were given, and then left in groups of two or three to mingle with the bandits outside. Whatever they were ordered to do on this island, it would definitely be easier if they made a few friends, first. Tyro pointed them in the direction of the main hall but stayed back, knowing that once Daine was awake they were going to start talking seriously, and determined not to be left out of their plans again. He said as much to Emma, who nodded and went to check on Sarralyn.

It was the sudden silence that finally woke Daine up. She rubbed her eyes blearily and stared around the nearly empty room, working out what had happened in a few seconds. She didn't have the heart to ask why they hadn't woken her up; with the warmth of the fire, and knowing that she and Sarralyn were totally safe and protected, she had slept better than she had in months. Seeing that Numair, Daine and Tyro were busy talking, and hearing Emma cooing at the baby in the next room, she sorted through her pack for a change of clothes and a comb and ducked into the next room where she knew Emma kept a jug of water. The healer smiled a greeting but didn't say anything, saving all her words too coo nonsense at the infant who was gradually waking up. By the time Sarralyn was loudly demanding food Daine was clean, neat and properly awake.

Numair came into the room while Daine was nursing the baby, kissed her cheek and sat next to her, waiting for her to speak. Emma excused herself and left while Daine explained what had happened with the monster Johi, and how they had laughed at the baby's screams and not attacked her. Numair reached out a finger and smiled when Sarralyn wrapped her tiny hand around it, listening intently.

"She hasn't changed, has she?" He asked finally, "She doesn't look different, or burst into flames or turn into ice, or you would have said something. It's just the screaming."

She nodded, unable to interpret what he was thinking from the expression in his black eyes. He pulled his hand away so he could tug at his nose, obviously working something out.

"I have a theory," he said eventually. "You're not going to like it, but it's not completely hopeless, either."

"Go on," she prompted, leaning the baby against her shoulder so she could burp her. Sa responded by spitting up onto her clean shirt. Daine sighed and kept patting.

"Well, first of all we should get Alanna to look at her with her gift. She might see another spell if it's lurking in there. I'd do it myself, but I'm scared of hurting her." He waited for Daine to nod an agreement before he kept talking. "The thing about the spell is it's really, really old. I'd say primitive if this society wasn't more advanced than ours a hundred years ago... but the temples, for example, have sacrificial altars in them. You would hope they used animals, but..." he shrugged, remembering the sizes of the altars and the darkness that clung to the air, "...but that's unlikely."

"So it's an old spell," Daine said, lost. "So what?"

"So, Miss Sarrasri, it's safe to assume that they treated their spells the same way they treated their deities. They were happy putting their whole gift into trinkets, so why not a few drops of blood, or the last breath of a condemned man?"

"That's horrible."

"We did it too, hundreds of years ago." He waved a hand vaguely in the air and then took Sarralyn while Daine wiped her shirt down. "The point is, since it's an old spell it can probably only be completed by the same rules. It's like closing a door- you can shut it, but unless you have a key it can't be fixed in place. I very much doubt that our friend Elan would have turned into an immortal if he hadn't killed Keith in the same room. He would have had some effects, sure, but nothing that would stick. So unless Sarralyn here has killed someone while the spell's been in her, we shouldn't be too worried."

"The Johi will be after her, now they know she's the carrier of their half." Daine said pessimistically, straightening her shirt and standing up. She felt much happier, despite her words, and wished the others a good morning when they walked into the next room. Her good humour lasted exactly as long as it took Numair to outline his plan.

"When the statues are found, we need them to be brought here. We need both sets of immortals and both halves of the spell to be here, as near to the crypt as possible, for the spell to be destroyed."

Alanna nodded. "I'm expecting the men to call me soon. They should have the statues in the next few days, or at least a plan. We know where they are, it's just a case of sneaking in and finding a way to carry them. When they call me I'll tell them to bring them here."

"Both halves of the spell?" Tyro asked carefully. Numair nodded, and then looked at Daine. She blinked, and then realised what she was being asked to do. She shook her head violently, feeling sick.

"I don't want to get him back. I'm glad he's gone." She said mulishly, folding her arms. "Why should I be the one to go?"

"You can talk to the Neferii," Numair pointed out reasonably.

"So can you, dearest." The girl shook her head, her voice over-sweet. "And if he tries to kill you then you can set him on fire. I really think you should go. Or just set him on fire from here. Either is good."

"Why would they let me talk to him?" He demanded, annoyed by her deliberate childishness. "I'm just another mortal, prying into their lake. At least you have a link with the man."

"They wouldn't respect that for a second. It's just words." Stung, she looked up at him. "Kyprioth only did it as a joke. He wanted us to fight."

"Gods don't think like that," Alanna said suddenly. The other adults had stayed well clear of the argument, each for their own reasons: the knight didn't know what they were talking about, Emma had gotten used to their bickering over the months, and Tyro was wistfully daydreaming about what he would do if he had the ability to set people on fire.

Alanna carried on, defending the motivations of a trickster god, no less. "If they interfere they generally have a bigger picture in their head, even if we can't see it. Also, what on earth are you talking about?"

"Daine married the man." Numair's voice was flat, filling in the one mystery Alanna hadn't worked out from her constant questions. "Kyprioth told her to."

Alanna rounded on the girl, who in turn was glaring at the lanky mage. "You did what?"

"So that's why you did it!" Tyro slapped his knee with one hand. The others glared at him until his grin faded slightly. "What? I just won a bet. Let me be happy."

"Why would you bet on something like that?" Alanna demanded at the same time that Daine started laughing helplessly.

"Why not?" the girl giggled, "It's not like we ever let you just ask us, is it Tyro? Dear Mithros, but this island is stupid."

"It also had the best odds," The bandit told her confidentially. "'Divine intervention' was ten to one, right above you losing a bet of your own. Actually, the best best odds were fifty to one that you were actually in love, although no-one went for that one ever since Elan yelled at you before we got to the island, and I said..." he stopped talking abruptly when he caught sight of the other's expressions. Thunderclouds looked less threatening. "Err... I said nothing at all. None of my business, really, your personal lives. None at all. I skipped off and picked daisies in a field and sang a merry ditty and... and thought no more about it, honestly."

"Can I have a cut of the winnings?" Daine asked in the frozen silence. Tyro felt like he was lost in the middle of two completely different conversations- this friendly banter seemed the least dangerous of the two, but then he didn't trust the redheaded woman not to murder him if he joined in with it. If looks could actually shoot daggers, he'd already be dead a thousand times over. He rubbed his hair the wrong way and mentally shrugged.

"Er, perhaps?" He said tentatively, not looking at any of the Tortallans. Daine smiled, even knowing he couldn't see it.

"Good," she said, "I'd like to think I actually gained something from doing this. If the blessed things don't kill me, you can pay me when I get back." She stood up and collected her bow, checking the string and the weight with obvious intent as she sat back down by the fire.

"We need him alive," Numair was relieved that she had decided to do it, but wary at the brightness in her voice. "You're not going to shoot him, are you?"

"Only when... er, if he annoys me," she muttered, half to herself. "Do I have to wait until the statues are here?"

888