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"Only the water witch knows that."
"But if you have a fire talent, you have suspicions, at least."
"Survival has required all my attention and energy. But a seer from my time
did
predict that I would cross the boundary of time, and choose insight."
"I have no time for riddles! Someone must explain!" The G'deon began pacing
agitatedly again, this time in a circuit of the room. "The Basdowners are
feuding over trivial issues, actually killing each otherù. and won't
acknowledge
their true problems of too many children and too many cows. For three seasons
in
a row the lambs in the western sheeplands have been decimated by illness, and
no
one can determine what to do about it. The people of the midland cities are
requiring farmers to pay for the privilege of selling in their markets, and
the
farmers are banding together and refusing to go to the cities at allù"
It occurred to Zanja that Tadwell was young, both in age and in experience.
She
said more acerbically than she had intended, "Certainly, every crisis should
wait on your convenience."
He stopped, and glared. "I see you are accustomed to taking a familiar tone
with
the G'deon."
"Is that a reprimand? Is it considered correct behavior in this Shaftal for
everyone to avoid speaking plainly to you? Or do I just seem arrogant to you
because I don't accord with your expectations of a border person?"
Tadwell loomed over herùbelligerent, pugnacious.
"Do you leave everyone kneeling before you like this?" Zanja said.
"Stand up, then." He offered his hand.
She put her hand in his, and he staggered. She stood up without his help. He
took many rapid, harsh breaths. "Give me your hand again," he said. This time
he
clasped her hand in both of his. In time, his breathing slowed. "You have had
a
terrible life," he said. "Or at least you have been both terribly unlucky and
astonishingly lucky: You should have died from your injuries. You should be
too
crippled to walk."
"Everything you say is true."
He dropped Zanja's hand and paced away, paused, and turned back. "Shaftal
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will
become so dangerous? Her heroes will be survivors of repeated violence? What
will be her enemies and how will they appear?"
"Tadwell, I don't know how to judge what I should and should not tell you.
This
is why I dare not be in a Truthken's presence, also."
"Such judgments are not yours to make!"
"I agree with youùbut whose judgments are they? Would you have me satisfy
your
curiosity with no concern for the effect? If our positions were reversed,
would
you do such a thing?"
"I would do anything to prevent future ills."
"How could you possibly do so? Sir, it is arrogant and naive to think you
know
what is best for a people not yet born, in a land that will be much changed."
"By that logic, no one has any right to do anything at all under any
circumstances!"
"Then I'm wrong," said Zanja. "I will begin by telling you when and how you
will
die."
"No!"
She gazed at him. Finally he looked away, muttering, "I suppose your caution
is
sensible."
"Arel knows I am journeying in time, but he doesn't know what direction I
have
traveled in. I've told nothing to anyone else."
"Good," he said. "But if you are dangerousù"
"The seer would have intervened!"
"Seers!" he said in disgust. "Why would a water witch choose you? What is it
that you alone are capable of doing? And how can anything you do be right
when
you have been forced into doing it?"
"I don't know. But I must face this quandary alone."
"And you expect me to simply trust you to do what is right?"
"Yes, Tadwell. Just as Karis would trust me."
He looked at her, and looked away. "I cannot argue. The value she places on
you
is unmistakably present in your flesh. It is more convincing than any letter
of
introduction."
He walked away from her and stood in silence, gazing into the fire, as many
people do when they are thinking. But he would not see any inspirational
visions
there; like any earth blood he was thinking about the problems of cause and
effect, of risk and result. As he considered the situation she had presented
him
with, she considered the one he had presented to her: What am I alone capable
of? It seemed a fearsome question, for she had done some awful thingsùhowever
justifiable. She understood why Tadwell might be reluctant to set her loose
upon
this peaceful land.
Eventually she raised her eyes to find he had turned to her again. She saw a
man
beset and troubled, empowered but not particularly wise, a man like Karis and
like herself, whose responsibilities usually seemed impossible to fulfill.
"You may continue to reside with Arel," said Tadwell. "But you may not leave
his
quarters."
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"Yes, Tadwell."
That seemed to be all he had to say to her. She did not ask when he would
decide
what to do with her, for, like Karis, he would act as he felt compelled at
whatever time his action seemed necessary. Zanja could only wait, an art at
which she had little natural talent but much unfortunate practice.
Tadwell was heading for the door, and soon the room would again be crowded
with
anxious Paladins. "Sir," said Zanja. He turned sharply as if he anticipated
he
would have to assert his will over her some more. She strove to make her tone
more humble. "May I study some glyph paintings during my isolation? For they
are
beautiful, and I would consider it a great kindness to be so allowed." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]