Above, the sky was clear and sunny, a light breeze once more blowing from the east. The ground stood as it should, motionless and solid, and the rain of fire was a memory.
The silence that followed was deafening. Then the groans of the injured and the sobs of the terrified could be heard. The Warlord remained standing, his face drained of all color, small burns scarring his features and arms. In place of the mighty leader of the Empire stood a man bereft of any emotion save terror. His eyes were wide enough to show whites His mouth moved, as if he were trying to speak, but no words were forthcoming.
Milamber raised his hands overhead again, and the Warlord fell back with a sob of fear. The magician clapped his hands and was gone.
The afternoon breeze carried the scent of summer flowers. In the garden Katala was playing a word game with William, she had insisted they should both learn the language of her husband’s homeland.
It was almost evening, for they were farther east than the Holy City. The sun was low in the west, and the shadows in the garden were long. Without the chime announcing Milamber’s arrival, Katala was startled when her husband appeared in the doorway of their home. She rose slowly from her seat, for she sensed at once something was wrong. “Husband, what is it?”
William ran up to his father, while Milamber said, “I will tell you everything later. We must take William and flee.”
William tugged on his father’s black robe. “Papa!” he cried, demanding attention. Milamber picked up his son and hugged him tightly, then said, “William, we are going on a journey to my homeland. You must be a brave boy and not cry.”
William stuck out his lower lip, for if his father was asking him not to cry, then there must be a very good reason to do so, but he nodded and held back the tears.
“Netoha! Almorella!” Milamber called, and in a moment the two servants entered the garden. Netoha bowed, but Almorella rushed to Katala’s side Katala had insisted she accompany them to Milamber’s new home when he brought his family from the Shinzawai estate. She was more sister to Katala and aunt to William than a slave. She could see at once that something was wrong, and tears came unbidden to her eyes.
“You’re leaving,” she said, a statement more than a question.
Netoha looked at his master “Your will, Great One?”
Milamber said, “We are leaving. We must. I am sorry.” Netoha took the news stoically, in the proper Tsurani fashion, but Almorella embraced Katala, openly weeping.
Milamber said, “I wish to ensure that you are both provided for. I have prepared documents against this day. When we have gone, you will find all my work cataloged in my study. Above my study table, on the top shelf, you will find a parchment with a black seal upon it. I am giving the estate to you, Netoha.” He said to Almorella, “I know you two care for each other. The document giving Netoha the estate also contains a provision granting you your freedom, Almorella. He will make you a good husband. Even the Emperor cannot set aside a document bearing a Great One’s seal, so do not worry.”
Almorella’s expression was a mixture of complete disbelief, happiness, and sorrow. She nodded slowly that she understood, thanks clearly showing in her eyes.
Milamber returned his attention to Netoha. “I am deeding the lower pasture land to Xanothis the herdsman. Provide well for the others of this household, Netoha.
“Now, in my study you will also find several parchments sealed with red wax. These must be burned at once. Whatever you do, do not break the seals before you burn them. All other works are to be sent to Hochopepa of the Assembly, with my deepest affection and the wish that he find them useful. He will know what to do with them.”
Almorella again embraced Katala, then kissed William. Netoha said, “Quickly, girl. You’re not mistress of this estate yet, and there is important work to do.” The hadonra started to bow, then said, haltingly, “Great One, I . . . I wish you well.” He quickly bowed and started for the study Milamber could see a hint of moisture in his eyes.
Almorella, tears running down her cheeks, followed Netoha into the house. Katala turned to Milamber “Now?”
“Now.” As he took them to the pattern room, he said, “There is one thing I must find out before we attempt the rift.” He held his wife, with their son between them, and willed himself to another pattern.
They were shrouded in a white haze for an instant, then were in a different room. They hurried through the door, and Katala saw they went into the home of the Shinzawai lord.