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Authors: Randall Garrett
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will brook no neutrality. Those who do not support him will be destroyed.”
“Or,” Tarani said quietly, “
persuaded
to join him.”
The old man’s face paled, and a muscle flexed in his neck. “The law of the Fa’aldu allows one Elder to speak for all,” he said. “Balgokh asked the Families for friendship for his friend Rikardon. Short of bearing arms or denying water, the service of the Fa’aldu is pledged to the Captain and the High Lord. How may we help?”
I stood up. At the judgment, I had spoken impulsively, with no conscious purpose other than to sway the decision in Veron’s favor. Now I saw a deeper, unrecognized purpose.
“With the Ra’ira, Ferrathyn can learn what’s going on anywhere in Gandalara,” I said. “I doubt he exercises it often, but he has the capability, and we don’t—not alone.”
Charol frowned. “You have our willingness to share with you any and all information which comes to us,” he said. “But our maufel are trained only for their local areas.”
It was a feature of the bird-handlers’ gift that they could direct their maufa only to places which they had visited personally. I thought Charol meant that information might not reach us quickly enough to be of any use, and I began to think aloud.
“Say we’re in Omergol,” I said. “You would have to send the message to Kanlyr, Haddat, Inid, Relenor, then Yafnaar, before it could be directed to Omergol, right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Charol said, “but—”
“Considering the speed of the birds,” I interrupted, “I think that’s not a problem.”
“Rikardon,” Tarani said, “I believe you are missing the point. There is no problem if we are in Omergol. There
is
a problem if we are in Thagorn. Is that not what you meant, Charol?”
The Elder nodded, and his face formed itself into an unreadable mask. “No Fa’aldu has ever visited the stronghold of the Sharith.”
I had met many differing views of the Sharith, from ignorance to contempt to fear to the awe associated with legends, but the Fa’aldu held the prize for ambivalence. On the one hand, the aloof isolation of the Riders was an uncomfortable reminder to the Fa’aldu of their own history. On the other, they were as subject as city dwellers to fascination with the sha’um and the men for whom they were willing to abandon their own kind. The Sharith were very conscious of the privilege granted them by their sha’um partners, and made no attempt to conceal their pride on the occasions when they mingled with people outside Thagorn. Their attitude grated on the equally proud Fa’aldu, so that most of the contact between the two groups had occurred on a very impersonal, formal level. In their dealing with me, the Fa’aldu had been forced to deal with an individual, rather than a stereotype, but Charol’s sudden remoteness was evidence that the conflict lingered.
“I believe I can help, if the maufel will allow it. May I speak with him?” Tarani asked as she stood up.
“Her,” Charol corrected. “Lesara is young, but very capable. Her father became ill, and died suddenly, less than a year ago. Come, we will see her now.”
So there is disease in Gandalara
, I thought, as we left Charol’s apartment and crossed the inner courtyard.
All the “early” deaths Markasset had heard of were violent, or the result of some definable cause—like the lung corruption caused by spending time in the copper mines. There are human illnesses I know these people don’t share, but I guess they have some of their own. At least they seem to be comfortingly rare.
In the northeast corner of the complex, we stepped through a doorway and found ourselves in a small, empty room. A second doorway, fully covered by a tapestry hanging, faced us. After a moment, a slight figure pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the room. The young girl, whom I presumed to be Lesara, was dressed in an ankle-length white robe not unlike Charol’s, indicating her
“Or,” Tarani said quietly, “
persuaded
to join him.”
The old man’s face paled, and a muscle flexed in his neck. “The law of the Fa’aldu allows one Elder to speak for all,” he said. “Balgokh asked the Families for friendship for his friend Rikardon. Short of bearing arms or denying water, the service of the Fa’aldu is pledged to the Captain and the High Lord. How may we help?”
I stood up. At the judgment, I had spoken impulsively, with no conscious purpose other than to sway the decision in Veron’s favor. Now I saw a deeper, unrecognized purpose.
“With the Ra’ira, Ferrathyn can learn what’s going on anywhere in Gandalara,” I said. “I doubt he exercises it often, but he has the capability, and we don’t—not alone.”
Charol frowned. “You have our willingness to share with you any and all information which comes to us,” he said. “But our maufel are trained only for their local areas.”
It was a feature of the bird-handlers’ gift that they could direct their maufa only to places which they had visited personally. I thought Charol meant that information might not reach us quickly enough to be of any use, and I began to think aloud.
“Say we’re in Omergol,” I said. “You would have to send the message to Kanlyr, Haddat, Inid, Relenor, then Yafnaar, before it could be directed to Omergol, right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Charol said, “but—”
“Considering the speed of the birds,” I interrupted, “I think that’s not a problem.”
“Rikardon,” Tarani said, “I believe you are missing the point. There is no problem if we are in Omergol. There
is
a problem if we are in Thagorn. Is that not what you meant, Charol?”
The Elder nodded, and his face formed itself into an unreadable mask. “No Fa’aldu has ever visited the stronghold of the Sharith.”
I had met many differing views of the Sharith, from ignorance to contempt to fear to the awe associated with legends, but the Fa’aldu held the prize for ambivalence. On the one hand, the aloof isolation of the Riders was an uncomfortable reminder to the Fa’aldu of their own history. On the other, they were as subject as city dwellers to fascination with the sha’um and the men for whom they were willing to abandon their own kind. The Sharith were very conscious of the privilege granted them by their sha’um partners, and made no attempt to conceal their pride on the occasions when they mingled with people outside Thagorn. Their attitude grated on the equally proud Fa’aldu, so that most of the contact between the two groups had occurred on a very impersonal, formal level. In their dealing with me, the Fa’aldu had been forced to deal with an individual, rather than a stereotype, but Charol’s sudden remoteness was evidence that the conflict lingered.
“I believe I can help, if the maufel will allow it. May I speak with him?” Tarani asked as she stood up.
“Her,” Charol corrected. “Lesara is young, but very capable. Her father became ill, and died suddenly, less than a year ago. Come, we will see her now.”
So there is disease in Gandalara
, I thought, as we left Charol’s apartment and crossed the inner courtyard.
All the “early” deaths Markasset had heard of were violent, or the result of some definable cause—like the lung corruption caused by spending time in the copper mines. There are human illnesses I know these people don’t share, but I guess they have some of their own. At least they seem to be comfortingly rare.
In the northeast corner of the complex, we stepped through a doorway and found ourselves in a small, empty room. A second doorway, fully covered by a tapestry hanging, faced us. After a moment, a slight figure pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the room. The young girl, whom I presumed to be Lesara, was dressed in an ankle-length white robe not unlike Charol’s, indicating her
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