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impassive face of a slave and the gnarled thighs of a lifelong rider.
"This slave was a stableman for the late king of this land," Larissa said. "He
will render you any assistance you require."
"Excellent. The warriors may stay at a distance and keep watch, but the slave
is to attend me closely. He must do everything I tell him to, exactly as I
instruct. He must be made to understand this."
The queen turned to the slave. ' 'If you deviate from Lady Fyana's
instructions in the slightest degree, your death will not be an easy one." The
slave bowed. Like her husband, 304
John Maddox Roberts
Fyana reflected, Larissa had a single answer for all questions.
"I will await your return," the queen said.
Fyana shook her head. "It will not be necessary. After I return, I will still
need a few hours of preparation. I will not be ready to begin until night."
"As you will. Inform me when you are ready." The queen returned to the
ulterior of the tent.
Fyana went to her cabo and the slave helped her saddle it. She was pleased to
note that it had been given fodder. Apparently, prisoners had been detailed to
feed all the animals in the square. She mounted and rode for the nearest gate,
followed by her escort.
Thus far, all had gone well, better than she might have hoped. She foresaw no
difficulties in the next few hours. It was the final stage of her plan that
might very well prove fatal, but she could concoct no better plan, so she
refused to worry about it. She would succeed or she would die, and she knew
how to ensure that her death would be quick.
In the countryside, she began to gather herbs, leaves and minerals. None of
them had any medicinal significance. She did not even recognize some of the
plants, but she made a great and intricate ceremony of gathering each item.
The guards watched with interest for a while, then they grew bored and looked
elsewhere, talking among themselves in quiet voices.
The slave followed her instructions attentively, speaking only an occasional,
muttered, "Yes, mistress." Clearly, he took the queen's threat very seriously.
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By midafternoon, Fyana was convinced that he would do exactly as she
instructed from now on.
"We arc finished here," she announced. With her gatherings packed up, they
rode back to the city. When they were back hi the square she turned to the
guards. "You are dismissed." As she had hoped, they rode away. They had
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305
been assigned to escort her in the countryside, not to guard her in the city.
"Come with me," she told the slave.
A hundred paces from the royal tent, she had the slave build a small fire and
she began her "preparations." She clipped and chopped herbs, she pounded
minerals to powder, she burned and mixed. Throughout, she kept up a
meaningless chanting. Always, she kept an eye on the royal tent. Once, Gasam
came out and stared at her disdainfully. Once, Larissa emerged, looking her
way with hope.
Eventually, both came out together. After glancing her way, they walked away
on some mission of their own. Fyana had been waiting for this. The Shasinn,
like her own Canyoners, were an outdoor people who did not like to stay
beneath cover for long. She would have been content to have Gasam away. The
absence of both was even better. She made herself wait for several minutes.
Then she rose and pointed to the basket of jumbled plant and mineral matter
that lay on the pavement beside her.
"Pick that up and come with me." As the man did so she took her reins and led
her cabo to the tent. She stopped in the shade of its awning.
"Put that down," she said. The man did so. She glanced around. No one was
paying them any special attention. She saw Ansa's cabo still picketed with the
others and she pointed at it. "You see that cabo with its horns painted green
and gold? Bring it here." Without a word, the man obeyed. When he was back,
she pointed to the pile of Ansa's belongings and weapons. "Saddle it and load
those things on it."
When it was done she mounted her own cabo and took the reins of the other in
her hand. "Very good," she told the slave, "you may go now." He walked away.
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, trying to
quiet her heart, which felt as if it were about to burst. She opened her eyes.
Now she would win or die.
TWENTY
Ansa stirred uneasily. What was Fyana up to? He had tried to put on a
nonchalant air, but he had been stunned when he realized that she had come for
him. She must have come as soon as she knew he had not returned from the
island. She had not waited for Lar-issa's summons. At least he had been able
to eavesdrop on the talk out in the main room, before he was dragged out to
confront her. He had had time to compose himself. There was still enough of
the young warrior in him left to feel horror at appearing foolish before his
enemies.
She actually seemed confident that she could convince Gasam of her powers,
that she could truly restore youth. Not for the first time, the thought came
to him: Suppose it is true?
Now he stretched, working the kinks out of his legs. They were unbound, for no
one worried that he could outrun me Shasinn. His hands were bound before him
and he flexed the fingers, keeping them from stiffening. He eyed his
THE POISONED LANDS
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guards with distaste. The ones on duty now were dour-faced, older women who
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