That Way Lies Camelot Read Online Free
you.'
At this, the Wayfinder's eyes flicked open. Though he tensed no muscle, Sabin felt warning charge his presence that swept the room like cold wind. 'Is it proof you want? You shall have it. Leave me blindfolded on any of your fishing sloops, and give me the tiller, and I will set you an accurate course for the spit called the Barraken Rock.'
'A wager?' Ciondo covered his uneasiness with a cough. Thoughtfully, he added, 'The trial would have to be at night, or the sun on your face might guide you.'
'Be it night, or in storm, I care very little,' the Wayfinder challenged. 'But if I win, I'd have your promise: not a word of my gift shall go beyond this village. Your King, if he found me, would send me back a s a bribe to plead for an exemption from tribute. Greedy traders anywhere would sell the secret of my survival. The Karbaschi make unforgiving masters. If they learned I still lived, a warrior fleet would sail to collect me, and killing and looting would follow. If your people have no riches to adorn Karbaschi honor, your houses would burn, and your daughters know the miseries of slavery.'
Ciondo went pale, even to the end of his nose that seasons of winds had buffed red. He stepped back from the edge of the mattress and sat, without care for his soggy oilskins, on the cushion by the windowseat. if you are in'am shealdi, then you steered those ships afoul of the currents. Was it you who set your Karbaschi overlords on our reef to drown and then took your chance in the sea?'
The Wayfinder denied nothing, but regarded his wrists as if the weals dug by fetters could plead his testimony for him. A tight-drawn interval followed, broken at last by the rattle of pots in the kitchen; Kala had relented enough to oversee the noon meal. Her industry spoiled the quiet, and forced the Wayfinder to raise his burred voice to be heard.
'Men travel the land, but they do not hear it. They sail the waters, yet they do not know the sea. The Karbaschi warships carve paths of destruction, and the peoples they conquer grieve for slain husbands and sons. But where the Karbaschi stay to settle, they bring cruelties more lasting than death to the flesh. The lands they rule will wither in time, because they are a race who take and give nothing back. Their habit of pillage has deafened them, until they plow up forests for fields and raise towns without asking leave. The rituals mouthed by their priests are empty of truth, and without care for the still, small needs of the earth.' Here, the invalid lifted his wasted, leathery shoulders in a shrug. 'In'am shealdi are actually guardians. We nurture the spirits which the Karbaschi run over roughshod, because they love only the desires of humanity. It is such spirits that show me the way. If I call, they answer, though the Karbaschi ruled my body as a man might course a hunting dog. The guidance given to me in trust was forced to ill use, and inevitably brought the earth sorrow. The day came when I could not endure its pain, or my own, any longer.'
The Wayfinder sounded wistful as he finished. 'I expected to die in the sea. Since I did not, I should like very much to stay. To live simply, and make use of my talent very little. I wish for nothing beyond your leave to guide your village sloops back to anchorage each night for the rest of my life.'
Secure in the belief she was forgotten where she sat on the clothes chest, only Sabin caught the half glance he flicked in her direction. As if his cracked voice informed her, she knew: because of her he begged sanctuary - because of the gift he claimed she shared; and not least, for the sake of Juard who was dead, who had to be dead, else magic and spirits were real and horses ran wild in the sea.
If in truth such beauty existed, she would never shed the distraction of dreams but helplessly become consumed by them until the small inattentions that cursed her grew monstrous and took over her life.
Spooked by strangeness that threatened to draw her like
At this, the Wayfinder's eyes flicked open. Though he tensed no muscle, Sabin felt warning charge his presence that swept the room like cold wind. 'Is it proof you want? You shall have it. Leave me blindfolded on any of your fishing sloops, and give me the tiller, and I will set you an accurate course for the spit called the Barraken Rock.'
'A wager?' Ciondo covered his uneasiness with a cough. Thoughtfully, he added, 'The trial would have to be at night, or the sun on your face might guide you.'
'Be it night, or in storm, I care very little,' the Wayfinder challenged. 'But if I win, I'd have your promise: not a word of my gift shall go beyond this village. Your King, if he found me, would send me back a s a bribe to plead for an exemption from tribute. Greedy traders anywhere would sell the secret of my survival. The Karbaschi make unforgiving masters. If they learned I still lived, a warrior fleet would sail to collect me, and killing and looting would follow. If your people have no riches to adorn Karbaschi honor, your houses would burn, and your daughters know the miseries of slavery.'
Ciondo went pale, even to the end of his nose that seasons of winds had buffed red. He stepped back from the edge of the mattress and sat, without care for his soggy oilskins, on the cushion by the windowseat. if you are in'am shealdi, then you steered those ships afoul of the currents. Was it you who set your Karbaschi overlords on our reef to drown and then took your chance in the sea?'
The Wayfinder denied nothing, but regarded his wrists as if the weals dug by fetters could plead his testimony for him. A tight-drawn interval followed, broken at last by the rattle of pots in the kitchen; Kala had relented enough to oversee the noon meal. Her industry spoiled the quiet, and forced the Wayfinder to raise his burred voice to be heard.
'Men travel the land, but they do not hear it. They sail the waters, yet they do not know the sea. The Karbaschi warships carve paths of destruction, and the peoples they conquer grieve for slain husbands and sons. But where the Karbaschi stay to settle, they bring cruelties more lasting than death to the flesh. The lands they rule will wither in time, because they are a race who take and give nothing back. Their habit of pillage has deafened them, until they plow up forests for fields and raise towns without asking leave. The rituals mouthed by their priests are empty of truth, and without care for the still, small needs of the earth.' Here, the invalid lifted his wasted, leathery shoulders in a shrug. 'In'am shealdi are actually guardians. We nurture the spirits which the Karbaschi run over roughshod, because they love only the desires of humanity. It is such spirits that show me the way. If I call, they answer, though the Karbaschi ruled my body as a man might course a hunting dog. The guidance given to me in trust was forced to ill use, and inevitably brought the earth sorrow. The day came when I could not endure its pain, or my own, any longer.'
The Wayfinder sounded wistful as he finished. 'I expected to die in the sea. Since I did not, I should like very much to stay. To live simply, and make use of my talent very little. I wish for nothing beyond your leave to guide your village sloops back to anchorage each night for the rest of my life.'
Secure in the belief she was forgotten where she sat on the clothes chest, only Sabin caught the half glance he flicked in her direction. As if his cracked voice informed her, she knew: because of her he begged sanctuary - because of the gift he claimed she shared; and not least, for the sake of Juard who was dead, who had to be dead, else magic and spirits were real and horses ran wild in the sea.
If in truth such beauty existed, she would never shed the distraction of dreams but helplessly become consumed by them until the small inattentions that cursed her grew monstrous and took over her life.
Spooked by strangeness that threatened to draw her like
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