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like a skull under her fingertips. Her teeth even were loose, though by some
stroke of good fortune none had fallen out. This alien form was made only
stranger by the restoration to which it had been subjected. All down her back
and buttocks, sensitive pink skin patched the brown.
Norina had left her alone, and came back in to find Zanja worn out with
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washing,
too tired to resist or even to object when the hostile stranger washed her
back
and took on the project of her hair. Neither of them spoke, and Norina
offered
no gestures of pity, no matter what the sight of Zanja�s devastated body made
her think. Brusque and efficient, she hauled Zanja out of the tub and sat her
upon the hearth wrapped in a blanket, and called in the healer to help carry
away the tub. She returned again in a while, with a bowl of broth. The smell
of
food brought Zanja out of her daze.
Norina sat down upon a battered, three-legged stool that might have been
older
than the sagging stone walls within which they sheltered. Zanja said after a
while, �I envy you your vigor.�
The preoccupied, battle-scarred face turned as if surprised to find her a
living
being and not just a problem to be solved. She said, �You�ll recover faster
than
seems possible, and you�ll feel the effects of Karis�s immoderate generosity
for
years to come. What is your name again?�
�I am Zanja na�Tarwem. I was Speaker for the Ashawala�i, but now my people
are
all dead.�
After a long silence Norina said, �We have heard of the massacre of the
Ashawala�i. You�re the only survivor that we know of.�
�Perhaps there were others, but I expect they would have killed themselves.
Pardon me�if I am to answer your questions, I want to know who is asking them
and why.�
Norina said, �The speaker for the Ashawala�i by tradition has the G�deon�s
ear.
Where did you serve as a diplomat, with the House of Lilterwess fallen?�
�I looked out for my people�s interests in the northern border towns. Why is
it
your business?�
Norina looked up from her hands. The sardonic expression that the scar gave
her
face seemed much more pronounced. �You certainly are as incessantly polite
and
courteously insistent as any diplomat. But if you had a weapon your hand
would
be on it, am I right?�
Zanja said softly, �No, Norina, I would never signal my intent so carelessly,
and so sacrifice the advantage of surprise.�
Norina looked amused, as a wolf is amused by the antics of the rabbit she
chases. �Tell me how you came to be in the Sainnite prison.�
Zanja could play the game no longer. Wearily, so that the angry woman would
leave her alone and let her sleep, she answered her questions as well as she
could, considering how little she could remember of the events that Norina
seemed to find most interesting. With months of pain and solitude and near
insanity lying between this present moment and the massacre of the
Ashawala�i,
it seemed a distant event in someone else�s life. She had become a ghost, and
now Karis�s hand upon her heart had raised her from the dead and brought her
forth into a new world, a new body, a new life. The past seemed irrelevant.
As she struggled to remember those horrible, distant events, she gradually
became unnerved by the dissecting quality of Norina�s gaze and the weird
accuracy of her sharply honed questions. And then, looking up impatiently as
Norina asked a third question about something Zanja had twice told her she
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did
not remember, she realized that the unnerving quality of Norina�s gaze was
not
wholly unfamiliar to her.
She interrupted herself, and said, �We have met before.�
�Really. How long ago?�
�How long has it been since the fall? Fifteen years?�
Norina opened her mouth, then closed it again without asking a question.
Zanja
had actually managed to surprise her.
Zanja said, �It was my first year to travel with the Speaker, my teacher. Do
you
remember, in the charterhouse, early in the morning, he was talking with
Councilor Mabin? You came in to tell her you were ready to leave. You
gathered
her papers for her. I stood over by the tea table, watching you, unable to
determine what you were. But the Speaker told me later that you are a
Truthken.�
Norina said indifferently, �Mabin and the Speaker were arguing.�
�No, it was a cold but courteous conversation.�
�I had just taken my vows.�
�But you had no earring.�
�It was just a few pages of paper.�
�I remember thirty sheets, at least. I have wondered since then if she was
writing her famous book�Warfare, is that its title?� Zanja added,
forestalling
Norina�s attempt to quiz her on further details, �You were dressed in black.
There was a brisk fire in the fireplace. The sun was just rising.�
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