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mine," she said, carefully finding the exact phrases. "She speaks like old people ... no, that is not the
word ... like wise men say my people spoke once, long years gone."
Deoce introduced us: the two men were Morning Fog, their shaman, and Harvester; the woman,
Dawnhope, and she was their chieftain. She addressed me, speaking slowly, and I could now pick out
the sense of her remarks, so similar was her language to Deoce's. "We have been seeing you for two
days. We hoped you would see us." I understood her words, but not their meaning, and begged her to
explain further. With Deoce's help, she did, and I learned why Lione had not seen the valley. I was told
there was a mighty, protective spell cast on the valley. No one intending harm or evil could see the Rift,
but would sight only more rolling hills-hills they would be impelled to turn away from without knowing
why.
Cassini heard the translation. "There are indeed great Evocators in this land," he said, half in fright, half
mournfully, and I felt a flicker of sympathy. Cassini was like a man whose life and work depended on
keen vision, but who'd been suddenly blinded. It was a flicker of compassion, but no more. I still
remembered the paradise he'd lost for us. Besides, I was now busy with the standard greetings and
small-present exchanging common to any traveler meeting a new, friendly people. We were invited to
share their land and home for as long as we wished, and were asked only to follow their customs and
laws, which, Harvester, their Giver of Laws, said were no more than common sense and hardly onerous.
I reserved judgment-the Shore People felt cannibalism was a perfectly natural custom. But I felt no threat
or challenge yet from these friendly people. They led us to the cliff's edge, where a carved stone stairway
zigzagged down the rock face to disappear into the trees below. I could see the gleam of a lake down
there and smell fragrant wood smoke. Nearby, a small waterfall ran down the rocks to the valley floor.
We blindfolded our asses, who
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found strength to bray protest until they smelled the water, and started down.
We had gone but a dozen steps when I heard a shout from Cassini and whirled, hand touching sword.
He stood mazed, tottering, as if about to faint. One of the men steadied him, but Cassini seemed not to
notice. "My powers ... my magic ... they have returned!" I looked quickly at Janos, and from the smile
beaming through his beard, knew Cassini was not deluding himself. The Rift Tribe had powerful
Evocators indeed if their spell could not only blind enemies who were physically present, but mask the
eyes of sorcery as well.
All of the tribe was waiting in the village, which was made up of several central buildings, a feasting area,
and cottages flung, seemingly at random, around the main gathering places. There was a feast prepared,
but I'm afraid none of us did it service and might even have shamed our hosts. We were taken to huts,
and men and women of the tribe offered us fresh clothing. Other members of the tribe helped our sick
undress and put them into waiting hammocks. These nurses told us they already had potions and
remedies ready to treat them. It was obvious we were not the first to encounter the Rift, nor the first to
stumble across that horrible wasteland.
Deoce and I bathed in the lake, changed, and feeling like the walking dead, forced ourselves to the feast.
Only a few of us- Deoce, Janos, Sergeant Maeen, and Lione among them-were around the great circular
table. I ate but little, feeling I might become sick if I stuffed myself. Lione and Maeen did get sick, but our
hosts paid no mind. Finally, staying awake became too torturous, and we made excuses and tottered to
our huts. I remember litde of the next few days, beyond waking, eating, bathing, and making sure my,
men were taken care of.
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But eventually I returned to my usual self, and in a shorter time than I would have thought. Again and
again in my life I've been reminded how much punishment this animal body can absorb and recover from,
and never cease to marvel how some beings can let life slip away so easily. Here in the valley was the
first time I observed this. One of the men we'd rescued from slavery died, and then a second. In spite of
the best incantations and herbs provided by Cassini and Morning Fog, the sickness seemed to cling to
our people and keep them enfeebled. Only Janos, Cassini, Deoce, Sergeant Maeen, and I had not fallen
ill, and Lione refused to admit he had been taken by the disease.
As I recovered I began asking about the Rift Tribe. There were
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perhaps two hundred of them living in this valley. They tended to live long, peaceful lives. New blood
came to the tribe as wandering refugees or, very occasionally, traders who decided to retreat from the
world. The people cheerfully gave up their huts and moved in with friends because of the new stories they
would hear of the world beyond. The tribe's people lived on the crops planted farther up the valley,
where the forest was thinner. They used long, hollowed gourds for piping to run water from springs or
creeks to their fields. They hunted the abundant game as carefully as any herdsman decides which animal
can be slaughtered without impairing the herd. Once they had kept goats, but they had died a generation
ago. Cattle and horses they remembered but dimly from long ago in the past, and they seemed a bit
fearful of our asses, who, being the sturdy creatures they are, had recovered instantly from their travails.
The Rift Tribe had come to the valley many generations ago. In their homeland, they had been caught
between two great warring peoples and were doomed. But they had a great wizard, Morning Fog told
me. "Powers great ... very great ... more than me ... more than your shaman ... he came from the Far
Kingdoms. You have heard of them?"
I could barely restrain my excitement. I called for Deoce and Janos to make sure I would miss none of
the questions I now had, and Morning Fog did his best to answer them. Yes, the wizard had been from
the Far Kingdoms, a great man who had chosen to leave his world of gold and silk to help others who
were not so strong. He had happened on the tribe fortuitously, just after that war began. He volunteered
to lead them west, away from the destruction and death that would come. Janos interrupted-did Morning
Fog know how distant the Far Kingdoms were from the tribe's homeland? He did not. Nor did he know
just how far the tribe had traveled under the Evocator's guidance before they came on this valley. "The
tales say it was a long, terrible journey." He shrugged. "But since when is any journey not a danger-filled [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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