“A gate between two different places,” said Nakor. “I’ll explain it in detail later, if you must know. But it’s the sort of magic gateway the Tsurani used to invade—”
Tal said, “I know what a rift is, Nakor. I read the books, remember? I’m just surprised that’s what he was up to.”
“As are we,” said Pug. “I know more about rifts than any man alive, or so I thought. This thing Varen made is unlike any rift I’ve encountered. He used black arts and the lives of innocents to construct his device, and it appears to have been recently engaged.”
“You mean there’s a rift here in the citadel?”
“No, Tal,” said Nakor. Then his voice became somber. “But we fear there may be one forming out there somewhere.”
“But where?” asked Tal.
Pug said, “Only Varen knew.”
Tal sighed. “I am glad I am not a magician. My problems seem simple compared to yours.”
Pug said, “We have resources. We’ll keep people here studying Varen’s work. We’ll find out what he was doing.” He smiled. “You look done in. Go get something to eat, then go to bed.”
“No,” said Tal. “I have one task left, and it cannot wait any longer.” Without explaining, he turned and walked out of the throne room of Olasko.
Nakor said, “He could have been Duke. Natalia would have married him.”
Pug shook his head. “No, he’s looking for peace, not power.”
“Do you think he’ll find it?”
Pug put his hand on his old friend’s shoulder. “When he chose to let Quint and Kaspar live, I think he started on his way to it.” He smiled. “Come. Tal may not be hungry, but I am.”
They left the hall.
The pounding on the door was insistent, and the man whose business it was stood up fearfully. The city had been filled with rampaging Keshian soldiers until dawn, then civilian looters had followed. He had held his own with a large meat cleaver and the looters left him alone, as much because he had nothing worth stealing in his shop as because of his weapon.
But the voice that came from outside sounded as if it would not be easily scared away. “Open up, or I’ll kick this door down!”
The man shouted, “I’ve got a weapon!”
“Then open the door, because if you make me kick the door in, I’ll make you eat that weapon.”
Clearly, the intruder wasn’t going to leave. At last the knacker called Bowart opened the door. A soldier entered, his sword at his side. He took one look at the podgy man who stood holding the huge cleaver and said, “Don’t hurt yourself with that. I’m looking for a girl.”
“We ain’t go no girls here,” said the proprietor. “We’re a gang of knackers. This ain’t no brothel.”
Tal pushed past the man. “Where are your slaves?”
Bowart pointed to the back door and Tal pushed it open. He walked across a large yard that reeked of dead animal flesh and old blood. There was a shack at the back. He moved to the door and stepped inside. A dozen beds lined the walls, and a single table sat in the center of the room.
Eyes wide from fear of marauders regarded him. A single candle burned on the table. Tal picked it up and went from bed to bed, searching the faces. At last he found the woman he sought.
In the language of his people he said, “Eye of the Blue-Winged Teal, I am called Talon of the Silver Hawk. You knew me as the boy Kielianapuna.”
She blinked as if confronted by a vision. Softly she said, “Kieli?”
He nodded, extending his hand. “I have come to take you from this place if you will go with me.”
She slowly rose and took his hand. “Anywhere but here.” She studied his face, and recognition came into her eyes. “You are Kieli,” she said softly, and behind the pain in her eyes he saw hope. Gripping his hand tightly, she said softly, “I have a son.” She inclined her head to the next bed, where a boy of perhaps four or five years slept. “His father was a soldier, but I don’t know which one, as many men had me after I was taken.”
Tal gripped her hands and looked at the boy. He was fair-haired, like his mother, and beautiful in sleep. With emotion thick in his voice Tal said, “I will be his father.”
She squeezed his hand tightly. Softly he said, “We can never be what we were, Teal. Our world has been taken from us, but we can be together and teach our son what we know of our ways. Our people will not be forgotten.”
She nodded, her eyes gleaming with emotion as tears began to run down her cheeks.
He asked, “Are there others besides you from our village or the other villages?”
She said, “I don’t know. There were a few taken with me, but all of us were sold.”
“We shall abide here a while, then,” he said, “and we shall look for them. And if we find them, then we shall give them a home.”
He let go of her hand and gently picked up the sleeping boy. Cradling him, Tal said, “I do not know what it is we will become, Teal—Orosini or something else—but we will discover that together.” Holding the boy in his right arm, he extended his left. She took his hand, and he led her into the night, into an unknown future.
Epilogue
Retribution