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malicious predators, savoring the agony they brought to less fortunate,
less privileged folk. Ruari's father had been a templar-a rapist and
murderer whose victims, Ghazala and Ruari, had survived. When she'd kenned
Pavek, she'd seen a man who was more preyed upon than predator, more numb than
brutal, and scarcely more fortunate or privileged than a beast of burden. "Not
a templar."
Telhami's eyebrow arched. "Exactly a templar. Did you think they were all like
Ruari's father?" She made a fire in a tiny hearth and filled a small pot with
water.
"Yes. Yes, I suppose I did. I suppose I still do. Pavek was different, even
that first time, when he wore a yellow robe. Did I tell you he fought with
another templar over a human infant's life? I keep thinking he should be a
good man, but he's not. He's just plain broken."
"I suspect all templars are broken. One way or another. They couldn't survive
if they weren't. Some survive better than others, of course. I doubt Ruari's
father was the worst to wear the yellow. But broken is as true a description
as any. The pieces grind together when he invokes the guardian. Are you sure
you want to take a broken man to your grovel
"He can't harm me," she said, with less confidence than she'd
intended. "If he forgets or tries, he'll be very sorry."
"And what about you? How sorry will you be, Kashi? How disappointed or
betrayed?"
"Betrayed? Betrayed by what? I said I know he's not a good man. He's
not even an attractive man. I know I
brought him here, Grandmother, but I don't particularly like him, and I
certainly haven't lost my head or my heart to him."
"You're certain?"
"Of course I'm certain. Wind and fire, Grandmother, you're as bad as Ruari. Do
you think I'd be blinded by the first stray man that stumbled across my
path-and a templar at that?"
*****
Telhami threw tea into the pot. "No," she conceded, swirling the leaves,
studying their patterns on the water.
Akashia hadn't been blinded by Pavek, but she was blind to her own beauty and
to beauty's effect on the men around her. Not that Pavek seemed to be affected
by beauty... or anything else. Beyond his determination to master spellcraft,
Pavek seemed to have no other interests. His very dogged-ness blocked his
progress; Quraite's guardian responded to livelier spirits'. Perhaps
Akashia's notion was not so bad, after all. Kashi was good with beginners...
Then the image of a copper-haired youth stormed through her mind, all flashing
eyes and scowls.
"There'd be trouble with Ruari," she admitted aloud.
"If there was going to be trouble with Ruari, it would have happened by
now. He hasn't said anything since
Pavek invoked the guardian. We all felt it. Ru wasn't happy, but he couldn't
very well argue after that."
Fragrant steam rose from the pot, restoring her more thoroughly, more gently
than her contact with the living pole of her hut. She was tired. Pavek's
determination combined with his lack of progress made him an exhausting pupil.
Moreover, Pavek slept soundly each night while she pondered the problems he'd
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brought out of Urik. Ruari might not argue with Quraite's guardian, but she
did, every night.
The guardian didn't care about Urik or the aches and pains of common folk.
When the guardian caught the drift of Laq, it was ready to destroy all
the zarneeka bushes in Quraite, and with them the sole source of
Ral's Breath.
Telhami believed there had to be a solution that did not punish the commoners.
But she'd need the guardian's help to find it, and thus far that help had not
been forthcoming.
She looked up from her tea and studied Akashia as she stood beside
the center pole, apprehension and eagerness written on her face... and
anger. Kashi said she'd been summoned; Telhami had no reason to doubt and-as
the tea warmed her from the inside out-every reason to believe that her own
deeper wisdom, working through her own dreams, had done the summoning.
"Take Pavek to your grove, Kashi. If that fails, put him to work in the
fields."
*****
A third of the night remained before the sun's red glow colored the eastern
horizon and Pavek began his daily trek to Telhami's grove. Akashia had
ample time to fetch her cloak from her hut, and with it secured
around her shoulders, she settled on a hard bench in easy sight of the
bachelor's hut.
By dawn, when the woven-reed door opened and Pavek stretched himself into the
open air, she was chilled to the bone, despite her cloak, and consumed by
doubts. Her voice failed when she first called his name, and it quavered the
second time, too. He stopped short at the corner of the hut and stayed where
he was, waiting for her rather than coming over.
"Telhami's resting today. I'm taking you to my grove instead." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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