She passed a fretful night and in the morning paced restively while Kel and Alain helped the Four Houses villagers raise the log walls of their palisade and Beor rested. At last the escort came, overjoyed to see her and flush with the news that none of the injured people at Queens’ Grave had died in the attack or caught a festering infection in their wounds. The march back to the village passed swiftly, and in the village itself, still marked by the recent battle, roasting and baking went on at a great rate in preparation for a celebratory feast on the morrow.
Dorren waited on the bench in the council house, sipping at beer. How eagerly he greeted her!
“Hallowed One!” He could not touch her. Standing beside the table, he contented himself with turning his mug around, and around again, with his good hand. “I bring a message from Falling-down, but I feared I came too late when I arrived here and heard the news of the attack.” He glanced past her and flushed, eyes widening with surprise, as Alain entered the council house. “This is the foreigner. Just as Falling-down predicted. He saw this one in a dream.”
“Did he?” A knot curled in her gut. Falling-down had the gift of prophetic dreaming, and if he spoke against Alain’s presence, then even Mother Orla might go back on her agreement.
“He saw a foreign man stumble weeping through a gateway of blue fire, with two hounds at his side. There was a creature beside him, with flaming wings, one of the gods’ servants.”
“He came here through the loom. The Holy One brought him.”
“Truly, Falling-down did not know whether he had had a vision of the past, or of the future. He said I must journey here to look at this foreign man myself, and to bring you a message.”
Adica did not look again at Alain. She did not need to. She knew exactly where he stood in relation to her; she felt him take the mug of beer offered to him by Mother Orla’s granddaughter, Getsi, and thought perhaps she could taste the bite of it on his lips as he drank. “What message?”
Dorren composed himself, going still as he brought the words to his tongue. She saw, in his face, the qualities that had attracted her to him, gentleness, intelligence, and wit, but somehow he seemed, not diminished, but set in shadow, now that she had seen Alain. When Dorren spoke, he did so in the singsong voice used by most Walking Ones to deliver their memorized messages. His good hand wove little pantomimes as he spoke, each one helping him to recall.
“Falling-down of the Fen tribe speaks these words to Adica of the White Deer people. Shu-Sha of the Copper people sends this warning to her sisters and brothers.” His hand fluttered like a crane, which flies easily and which because of its alert disposition cannot easily be surprised. “The Cursed Ones have discovered that we are leagued against them. They may strike at any time, from any direction. Be vigilant.” He made the sign for a hawk, striking unexpectedly. “Horn believes the Cursed Ones know the secret of the loom and hoard it until they will strike all at once against each one of us, but Brightness-Hears-Me speaks these words in disagreement: a man may see holy blood come forth from a woman, but that does not mean he can make it come forth from his own body. Two Fingers has seen disturbances in the deep places. Beware above ground and below, for the Cursed Ones have the power to strike from any place. Fortify your dwelling places, and make fast your houses. Retire to the wilderness, or ring your encampment with charms. Do not walk the looms except in dire need. If the Cursed Ones have unraveled the secret of the looms, then no person who walks the looms will be safe from them. Send the Walking Ones if there is need for a message. Be like the griffins, who watch their eggs carefully against the lion: Guard yourself well until the day that is coming, when we will act.”
She gave him peace to drink after he finished speaking, but she could not stop from shifting restlessly from one foot to the other, waiting for him to down the mug of beer. When he had recovered, she spoke. “Yet the Cursed Ones struck here. If they had wanted slaves, they would have carried off many, yet they only took me.”
“Then what Shu-Sha fears is already coming to pass,” said Dorren. “We had heard no report of any disturbances when I left the fens, but by the moon I would say that three days passed while I stepped through the looms.”
“You must return quickly to see if anything has befallen Falling-down. Tell him what happened here, and let the Walking Ones take this story to my sisters and brothers, so they can know the danger that awaits us.”
“Those words I will carry back to Falling-down. What of our allies, the Horse people?”
“The Holy One sometimes visits this place at the full moon. I wait for her then.” Dorren nodded. She looked back, wondering at the silence behind her, to see Alain listening intently. His expression burned with frustration as he shook his head and, with a grimace, set down his cup.
