they had been picking their way. Cadvan turned his face southward, with the Osidh Annova rearing up like huge shadows to their left, blades of darkness cutting off the stars. The scents of bruised grasses and flowers, spring honeysuckles and bulbs rose about them, and wild briars snatched at their cloaks. In the dim moonlight the countryside was silvered with mystery, but Maerad felt it was unaccountably familiar and walked on as if in a dream.
Then Cadvan cried out and pointed, and in the distance Maerad saw a light. "Innail!" he said. "And only three hours after sunset!"
As they neared Innail, Maerad began to feel nervous. This was a School, and she knew nothing about such places. What would they think of her, turning up with her hair like a mare's nest, stinking and filthy and ignorant? Her apprehension increased as they got closer, and when she saw the outlines ofthe buildings of Innail emerging, she felt sick with it; proud and noble they seemed to her, towers lit with golden windows that thrust gracefully into the night sky, behind a high wall of smooth white stone that threw back the starlight. Her reluctance increased as Cadvan's step grew more eager, and much sooner than she would have liked they arrived at the tall gates, thick oak stoutly barred with black steel. Cadvan cupped his hands and shouted.
"Lirean! Lirean noch Dhillareare!"
A shutter opened high above the gate and a man looked out.
"Lirean? Ke sammach?"
"Cadvan Lirigon na, e Maerad Pellinor na!" answered Cadvan, winking at Maerad as he did so. Maerad smiled back uncertainly.
"Langrea i," said the voice, and the window banged shut.
"Will they let me in?" asked Maerad.
"Oh, yes, eventually," said Cadvan. "But they must be careful these days, especially after dark. He goes to tell our names."
After about five minutes, the shutter opened again, and another man thrust out his head.
"Cadvan?" he said. "Is that you?"
"The same," said Cadvan. "Traveling on hard roads, by dark ways, and begging for succor from the Bards of Innail, by the old laws of courtesy."
"What are you doing in this part of the world?"
"Malgorn!" Cadvan threw back his head and shouted. "Come down and let us in!"
"And who of Pellinor? I thought they were all dead! By the Light! But wait, I'll get the gate."
He banged shut the window, and Cadvan turned to Maerad. "We are safe now," he said.
"Do you know him?"
"It's Malgorn. I've known him since childhood, and he wassent here some twenty years ago. They were having trouble in this part of the world and needed someone of his abilities. He is a good man. One of the best."
Then the gate was flung open and a fair, solidly built man came out, his arms wide. "Cadvan!" he said, and gathered him into a bearlike embrace. "How good to see you! How long is it?"
"Too long, old friend," said Cadvan. "And I can't say how glad I am to see you!"
Malgorn stood back, studying his face. "You look somewhat the worse for wear," he said. "I can see there's a tale to this. What have you been doing? But come in, come in."
"This is Maerad of Pellinor, my fellow traveler," said Cadvan, stepping back to include her. "Maerad, this is my old friend Malgorn, a rogue and a scoundrel, and the worst cardplayer in the Seven Kingdoms. But he has his good points."
Malgorn, smiling, took her hand and bowed over it, suddenly grave. "I am honored to meet you, Maerad of Pellinor," he said. "I thought none of your School yet lived. It has a place in my heart like no other, and was one of the most beautiful in Annar."
Maerad looked up into a pair of warm brown eyes and swallowed. She made an awkward little bob, and Malgorn released her hand. He ushered them through the gates and a small cloister and then into the first courtyard of the School of Innail. There Maerad would have stopped and stared in astonishment, had Malgorn's shepherding permitted her. The moonlight fell on well-tended gardens bordered by huge, smooth flags, and in the center a fountain trembled,
Then Cadvan cried out and pointed, and in the distance Maerad saw a light. "Innail!" he said. "And only three hours after sunset!"
As they neared Innail, Maerad began to feel nervous. This was a School, and she knew nothing about such places. What would they think of her, turning up with her hair like a mare's nest, stinking and filthy and ignorant? Her apprehension increased as they got closer, and when she saw the outlines ofthe buildings of Innail emerging, she felt sick with it; proud and noble they seemed to her, towers lit with golden windows that thrust gracefully into the night sky, behind a high wall of smooth white stone that threw back the starlight. Her reluctance increased as Cadvan's step grew more eager, and much sooner than she would have liked they arrived at the tall gates, thick oak stoutly barred with black steel. Cadvan cupped his hands and shouted.
"Lirean! Lirean noch Dhillareare!"
A shutter opened high above the gate and a man looked out.
"Lirean? Ke sammach?"
"Cadvan Lirigon na, e Maerad Pellinor na!" answered Cadvan, winking at Maerad as he did so. Maerad smiled back uncertainly.
"Langrea i," said the voice, and the window banged shut.
"Will they let me in?" asked Maerad.
"Oh, yes, eventually," said Cadvan. "But they must be careful these days, especially after dark. He goes to tell our names."
After about five minutes, the shutter opened again, and another man thrust out his head.
"Cadvan?" he said. "Is that you?"
"The same," said Cadvan. "Traveling on hard roads, by dark ways, and begging for succor from the Bards of Innail, by the old laws of courtesy."
"What are you doing in this part of the world?"
"Malgorn!" Cadvan threw back his head and shouted. "Come down and let us in!"
"And who of Pellinor? I thought they were all dead! By the Light! But wait, I'll get the gate."
He banged shut the window, and Cadvan turned to Maerad. "We are safe now," he said.
"Do you know him?"
"It's Malgorn. I've known him since childhood, and he wassent here some twenty years ago. They were having trouble in this part of the world and needed someone of his abilities. He is a good man. One of the best."
Then the gate was flung open and a fair, solidly built man came out, his arms wide. "Cadvan!" he said, and gathered him into a bearlike embrace. "How good to see you! How long is it?"
"Too long, old friend," said Cadvan. "And I can't say how glad I am to see you!"
Malgorn stood back, studying his face. "You look somewhat the worse for wear," he said. "I can see there's a tale to this. What have you been doing? But come in, come in."
"This is Maerad of Pellinor, my fellow traveler," said Cadvan, stepping back to include her. "Maerad, this is my old friend Malgorn, a rogue and a scoundrel, and the worst cardplayer in the Seven Kingdoms. But he has his good points."
Malgorn, smiling, took her hand and bowed over it, suddenly grave. "I am honored to meet you, Maerad of Pellinor," he said. "I thought none of your School yet lived. It has a place in my heart like no other, and was one of the most beautiful in Annar."
Maerad looked up into a pair of warm brown eyes and swallowed. She made an awkward little bob, and Malgorn released her hand. He ushered them through the gates and a small cloister and then into the first courtyard of the School of Innail. There Maerad would have stopped and stared in astonishment, had Malgorn's shepherding permitted her. The moonlight fell on well-tended gardens bordered by huge, smooth flags, and in the center a fountain trembled,
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