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voice. He started to weep in shock, Ista supposed, and in other, more
complicated reactions. Her last night's dreams had given her some intimations.
"Lord Illvin, brother, may I introduce Captain Goram dy Hixar, late of Roya
Orico's cavalry via the service of Lord Dondo dy Jironal. More recently of
service, if an involuntary one, to Sordso of Jokona, as sword master and
horseman. In a sense."
Goram looked up from his sobbing, his face stunned. Stunned, but not slack:
its shape seemed to tighten along with the mending mind underneath.
"You have returned his memories and his wits? But Ista, this is wonderful!"
cried Illvin. "Now he may find his family and his home at last!"
"Just what it is, remains to be seen," murmured Ista. "But his soul is now his
own, and complete."
Goram's steel-gray eyes met hers, and for a moment, did not look away. They
were filled with amazement, and a roil of other emotions; she rather thought
one of them was anguish. She gave him a grave nod, acknowledging it all. He
returned a shaken jerk of his head.
"Learned," she continued, "you begged a gift of witness, and you have it.
Please help Captain dy Hixar back to his chamber. He needs to rest quietly,
for until he has time to put them back in order, his mind and memories will be
very unsettled. Some spiritual comfort. . . may not come amiss, when he is
ready."
"Indeed, Royina," said dy Cabon, signing himself joyously. "It will be my
honor." He helped Goram dy
Hixar to his feet, and led him off through the archway. Illvin stared after,
then turned his dark eyes thoughtfully on her.
Dy Baocia inquired in a small voice, "Ista, what just happened?"
"Princess Joen, through her demon, was in the habit of stealing useful bits of
other people's souls for her sorcerers. From, among others, prisoners of war.
Prince Sordso was her greatest construct, and full of such fragments. When
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Sordso's demon passed through me yesterday, the god gave it to me to recognize
and retain the portion of Captain dy Hixar woven among the rest, and to return
it to him here. It is part of the task the Bastard has laid on me, to hunt
demons in the world, pluck them from their mounts, and relay them to His
hell."
"This task ... is now done, yes?" he said hopefully. Or, possibly, worriedly.
He glanced around the shambles of Porifors. "Yesterday, right?"
"No, I expect it is only beginning. In the past three years Joen released a
very plague of elementals. They have escaped all over the Five Princedoms and
the royacies, though their greatest concentration is likely still in Jokona.
The woman who had this calling before me was killed in Rauma. It is not an
easy, not an easy . . . duty to train for. If I read the god aright He
delights in obscurity and riddles I think He wanted a successor who would be
rather better guarded, through what promises to be a, ah, theologically
difficult period."
Illvin's eyes glinted, listening to this. He murmured, "Much becomes clear."
"He told me He did not want to train another porter," Ista added, "and that He
fancied a royina for a time. His exact words." She let her slight pause
emphasize this last. "I am called. I come."
And you may either help, brother, or get out of my way.
"I expect to form a traveling court, small and adaptable; the god's duties are
likely to continue physically wearing. My clerk as soon as I appoint one and
yours must deal shortly with forwarding my dower income, as I doubt my tasks
will take me back to Valenda."
Dy Baocia digested it all for a moment, then cleared his throat and said
cautiously, "My men are setting up our camp by the spring to the east of the
castle; will you take your ease there, Ista, or return to your rooms in here?"
Ista glanced up at Illvin. "That will be for Porifors's chatelaine to decide.
But until this fortress has had more time to recover, I would not burden it
with my expanded household. I will rest in your camp for a while."
Illvin gave her a short nod in appreciation of her delicacy, and all that went
unspoken in it:
until after the dead are buried.
Her brother offered to escort her to his tents, as he was going in that
direction, and Illvin gave her a formal bow of temporary farewell.
"My duties today are relentless," Illvin murmured, "but later I must discuss
with you the matter of an appropriate guard company for this traveling court
of yours."
"Indeed," she returned. "And other appointments as well."
"And callings."
"Those, too."
* * *
PEJAR AND HIS TWO SLAIN COMRADES OF THE DAUGHTER'S ORDER were buried outside
the walls of Porifors that afternoon. Ista and all her company attended upon
them. Learned dy
Cabon had come to Ista in distress, earlier, for while he might officiate none
better, in Ista's view he had no sacred animals to sign the gods' acceptances;
those belonging to Porifors's own temple were overburdened and reported close
to frenzied with the day's demands.
"Learned," she had chided him gently. "We do not need the animals. We have
me."
"Ah," he said, rocking back. "Oh. As you are made saint again of course."
She knelt, now, in the sunlight by each wrapped form in turn, laid her hand
upon its brow, and prayed for their signs. In rites at major temples like the
one in Cardegoss, each order proffered a sacred animal, appropriate in color
and sex to the god or goddess it represented, with an acolyte-groom to handle
it.
The creatures were led in turn to the bier, and by their behavior the divines
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interpreted to the mourners which god had taken in their lost one's soul, and
therefore where to direct their prayers and, not incidentally, upon which
order's altar to lay their more material offerings. The rite brought
consolation to the living, support to the Temple, and occasionally some
surprises.
She had often wondered what the animals trained to this duty felt. She was
relieved when she experienced no holy hallucinations: merely a silent
certainty. Pejar and the first of his comrades were taken up by the Daughter
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