I’d like you to write down what I teach you, too. Could you do that?’
‘I can, though the only letters I know be Horsekin ones.’
‘It won’t take you long to learn the Deverrian letters,’ Dallandra said. ‘I can teach you. There’s only thirty of them.’
‘Oh, well then!’ Sidro smiled at her. ‘It be easy, truly.’
‘Splendid!’ Valandario said. ‘We’ll start on the morrow, but for now, why don’t you just sit down and watch, to get an idea of the process, I mean.’
Sidro pulled a chair up to the table and sat down while Valandario went to a hanging tent bag and brought out a leather pouch of gems. Dallandra meant to watch the lesson, but the hot milk combined with her weariness from travelling, and she felt asleep with the empty cup clasped in her hands.
Valandario took the cup from Dallandra without waking her, set it down outside the door, then seated herself at the table next to an eager Sidro. She poured out her pouch of gems, then chose twenty for a simple reading. In the candlelight they glittered, a chaotic rainbow. A crowd of sprites appeared to dart among the glints of coloured light. One settled briefly on Sidro’s hair, then darted away again.
‘We want four each of the five colours,’ Val told her new apprentice. ‘They represent the elements and the Aethyr, of course.’ She put the rest of the gems away. ‘Now, if we were considering an important matter, we’d add other colours, but this will do for now.’
Valandario spread out the scrying cloth, a patchwork of Bardek silks, some squares embroidered with symbols, others plain. Sidro listened carefully as Val explained each symbol.
‘I’ll repeat this on the morrow,’ Val said, ‘so you can write it down. At the simplest level, a gem that falls upon its own colour represents what most people would call good fortune. It’s all based on the compatibility or incompatibility of the elements.’
‘I see.’ Sidro leaned a little closer to study the cloth. ‘So if a blue stone, it do fall upon a fire square, then that be a dangerous sign?’
‘Exactly. Very good!’
Valandario shook the gems in her cupped hands like elven dice, then strewed them out with a careful motion of her wrist. For a moment she studied the pattern formed.
‘What do you think this means?’ Val said. ‘I know you don’t know all of the system yet. Just give me an impression.’
Sidro frowned, tilting her head this way and that as she studied the layout from different angles. ‘Forgive me,’ she said at last, ‘but I can see naught in it.’
‘Then you’re going to do well at this.’ Val grinned at her. ‘I can’t, either. This is the most confused reading I’ve ever seen, probably because we’re doing it just as a lesson.’ She let the grin fade. ‘I hope, anyway.’
‘What would it mean if you were asking it about the future? Aught?’
‘I’d have to say that it signified some sort of standoff, a balance of forces that were locked together like this.’ Val held up her hands, hooked her fingers together, and made a pulling motion. ‘I couldn’t say between what or whom, since we never focused our minds on a particular question.’ She felt a sudden irritation, as if a stinging insect were flying around and around her head. The feeling was so strong that she lifted a hand to brush it away but found nothing. ‘Let’s put these back in their pouch. I must be more tired than I thought.’
‘It were a long day, truly,’ Sidro said. ‘I’ll fetch the banadar so he can carry his lady to their tent.’
That night Valandario dreamt about Jav and the black crystal pyramid. They stood together on a sea cliff and looked down at a heap of stones on the beach below. He was trying to tell her something, but she couldn’t hear him over the sound of the waves. Finally she woke to a sudden understanding.
‘The place where he found the crystal. That’s what he was trying to show me.’
The grey light of dawn filled the room. Valandario got up and dressed while she considered the meaning of the dream. Could there be another crystal at the tower? But Aderyn had told her, all those years ago, that Evandar must have found the black stone elsewhere and merely placed it in the ruin. She left the house on the chance that walking along the cliffs might clear her mind and allow her to delve further into what the dream-cliffs had signified.
To her surprise, she found Prince Daralanteriel there ahead of her. He was standing and looking out to sea with his arms folded across his chest. As she walked up to him, her footsteps crunched on the sand among the beach grasses, and he turned to greet her with a wave of one hand.
‘Dar?’ Valandario said. ‘Is something wrong?’
‘No, not really,’ Dar said. ‘Just thinking about the road ahead.’
‘Will we be going to the trading grounds?’
‘No, we’ll be travelling north along the Cantariel. There’s a Roundear lord – Samyc’s his name – who’s my vassal now. We should make sure that he’s safe. I’m thinking of asking for volunteer archers to spend the summer in his dun, just in case Horsekin raiders come his way.’
‘Do you think the Horsekin will dare?’
‘No, but I’d rather not be proved wrong. And then we need to cut east to visit Tieryn Cadryc.’
‘That’s a long ride away.’
‘Yes, it certainly is.’ Dar got a harried look about the eyes. ‘I’m thinking that I need to build a winter residence up north. Not exactly a palace, though I suppose it amounts to one. The gods only know where I’ll get the stone to build it or the craftsmen, either. And then there’s Lord Gerran. I owe him a new dun as well.’ Dar paused to look miserably away. ‘I never wanted to be tied down to a town. Everything’s changing, Val. I don’t know what to do!’
‘That’s why you have us. Wise Ones, I mean. When Gavantar comes back from the Southern Isles he’ll bring new settlers with him, and they know all about building towns. Look at Mandra.’
‘Just so.’ He smiled, sunny again. ‘We’ll have one last summer of freedom, anyway.’
Is that what this is? Val thought. Our last summer as wandering Westfolk? Their lives would pass into legend, she supposed, a time wrapped in wistful mist that hid the mud and chill of winter, the black flies of summer, the constant search for wood or the collecting of dried dung from their horses and sheep for meagre fires, the endless striking of tents only to raise them again. She turned and looked out over the farmland around Mandra. In some of the fields the winter wheat stood a couple of feet high, bowing and rising like ocean waves under the south wind. No one would have to trade with Deverry men for the bread and porridge it represented.
‘To be honest, Dar,’ Valandario said. ‘I for one won’t miss the wandering.’
‘Carra said the same thing. So have a lot of the other women.’
‘But the men agree with you? Will they miss it?’
‘Mostly, yes. Well, maybe in the summers, those who love to wander can take the herds out, while the rest stay behind in wherever it is, town, farms, whatever we eventually have.’ He shook himself like a wet dog, then repeated himself. ‘We’ll have our last summer of freedom, anyway.’
‘So we will. Are we leaving today?’
‘On the morrow. It’s time for the Day of Remembrance, and I thought we should hold it here with the townsfolk.’
‘Yes, that’s an excellent idea. The more you can do to remind the townsfolk you’re their prince, the better.’
‘So Devaberiel said, too. He’s composing a special poem for the occasion. I’m not sure where to hold the gathering, though. There isn’t any town square or the like.’
‘I