Limits of Power Read Free

to ask,
By
whom?
, but this was not the time. “Linne, please tell the steward or Garris—whomever you find first—to summon the Council to the large dining room. They may already have heard, but I will formally announce Sier Tolmaric’s death there. And we will need a bier for Tolmaric’s body.” He looked at Amrothlin again. “The palace can furnish biers for your dead. I will want two elves at the Council. You, unless your duties to the Lady’s body require you here, and whomever you choose.”
    â€œYes,” Amrothlin said. His sword hand moved weakly, as if he could not decide on a gesture. “Yes, to all. Is there—is there any place we could take the bodies to wash them? I do not wish to parade the Lady through the streets to our inn.”
    â€œOf course. We will use the salle for them. Arian?” Kieri turned to her. “What is your desire in this?”
    â€œThat it not have happened,” she answered, her voice choked with grief. “But it did. I would stay with my father’s body, if you can spare me.” Her expression was grave and resolute.
    Kieri nodded. “Of course I can. You are his kin; it is your right.”
    â€œYou said you were hit on the shoulder,” Arian said. “I see the cut in your clothes—”
    â€œAnd the blade did not touch my skin thanks to the mail. I will have it seen to when I can, but not now.” He laid his hand on her shoulder. “I will come, Arian. But first I must speak to the Council, and then I will come to the salle.”
    â€œThen I take my leave,” Arian said. “But you will be seen by physicians, Kieri—I insist on it.” She gave a little bow and turned away, going back to her father’s body. Kieri watched the set of her shoulders. He had lost his parents so long ago … he knew the pain of having none but not the pain of recent loss. And with the loss of their child … she had lost so much in so short a time.
    He moved away from the iynisin’s body to Tolmaric’s. He could hardly recognize this ugly twisted relic as human remains. “You were brave,” he said to Tolmaric’s spirit in case it lingered. “You were not afraid to speak out the truth you knew and would have fought if you’d had the chance. I am sorry I could not save you from this fate. I swear to you, I will do my best by your family. Your sons and daughters will have a father in me.” Tolmaric, he knew, had no living brothers.
    Out of the corner of his eye, he saw movement near the door and turned to look. Two servants came in with one of the net-covered frames used to move the injured and lifted Tolmaric’s body onto it. “Don’t move him until I am with the Council,” he said. “They should hear it first, not see it. And the elves will need enough for these—” He pointed to the other bodies. Then he went to the door, where the Kuakgan had been waiting, and stepped into the hall.
    â€œDo you blame us?” the Kuakgan asked, speaking softly. For the moment, Kieri could not think of his name.
    â€œFor what?” Kieri asked. He could think of nothing the Kuakkgani had done that day worth blame.
    â€œIt was our song to the One Tree, they say, that began the Severance and the evil that followed, when some elves rebelled against the Singer and chose destruction.”
    Kieri huffed. “The Severance happened long ago, and your responsibility lies with your own acts. Today you did us more than one good service. I am not angry with you, nor do I blame you. But I would ask what you can add to my knowledge of these iynisin, as the elves call them.”
    â€œThe kuaknomi have some powers beyond ours,” the Kuakgan said. “We depend on the bond of kinship with trees and the taig and can do no more than kinship allows. The kuaknomi draw their power from hatred—from Gitres Unmaker.”
    Kieri had heard the iynisin