"It was you followed me through the house, and left the blossom on my plate," she went on. "You tried to banish the Dark thing, and failed."
"I nearly succeeded," he said, his voice low and tenuous. "It might have worked, tried once more. But when the Dark came to you in your dreams, I thought he had convinced you to use the spell on me."
"That was when you turned the page," Alluen said with a grin. He was all gooseflesh. She went into the bedroom and brought back a blanket, which. Lennet wrapped around himself.
"What I didn't know was whether I could trust you," Alluen told him. "Jon the mayor might have, I think, yet his wife thought you a louse." Alluen's grin widened. "But I rather like poor old Jon. When the voice in my dream warned me to believe nothing any of the villagers said, I took that only one way."
"Ah," Lennet said, coming close to her now, showing her eyes she had felt for days, eyes now filled with her own reflection. "But how did you know which of us was me?"
"I've known only one man who truly loved me. Had he been one of you, no matter how desperate the struggle, he would have told me to run to safety."
"I... wasn't sure of what might happen."
Alluen smiled. "Neither was I."
"We should go, and tell the villagers," Lennet suggested. "Did you find any of my clothes about?"
"For now, we are not going anywhere," Alluen informed him. 'Trust in that."
Josepha Sherman
After the War had ended and our side had won—at least as far as royalty and generals were concerned—I could have had my pick of positions, maybe even have taken some noble title and settled down at court, though such vanities are rare among the wizard-land. But I had seen enough of crowds by then, enough of armies and men torn and bloody or dying warped out of all humanity by war-spells; I could not bear the burden of city or court.
So one night I set out by myself, on foot as is traditional of wizard wanderers.
And wander I did, one woman alone, traveling restlessly by day, sleeping restlessly by night, my dreams still touched with horror. The War had been meant, as all of them seem to be, to bring peace. It had, in a way; there were regions blasted to peaceful ash by wizardry. I wandered on, trying to outpace memory and find some place where they'd never heard of the War save as a vague rumor.
At last I came to Woodedge, a well-named little village tucked in among the trees, just at the verge of true wilderness. Clean trees, I thought, standing on the crest of a small hill and sniffing the piney air, clean wilderness. Not a trace of anything to be sensed but the hundred little natural magics of a normal forest. I looked down the slope to Woodedge itself and found a nicely built place, shingled roofs, wooden walls. Each one- or two-storied house had its own small garden, bright right now with spring flowers, and the door frames and window shutters were cheerfully carved. The sound of children playing drifted up to my ears, and I realized, wondering, how long it had been since I'd heard open, honest laughter.
Of course no stranger is going to enter a village unnoted. Before I'd taken a dozen steps I was the center of a wondering crowd. I stared right back. Mostly blondes and redheads here, fair skin, light eyes: I must have looked very alien to them with my dark hair and eyes. The dresses of the women and shirts and breeches of the men were of simple weave but nicely embroidered and rich with herbal dyes; my own traveler's robe was unornamented, but its color—stark green such as no magicless folk dared wear—marked me, as it was meant to do, as wizard.
"I come in peace," I told them, inwardly wincing at the cliche.
The cliche didn't matter; they didn't understand me and began chattering among themselves. After a moment, I identified the language as a dialect of Rishan: I'd wandered far, indeed. But wizards are trained in many tongues, so I repeated in Rishan, "I come in peace."
That caused a new stir. They were calling for someone: Sashan? The man who worked his way through the crowd was no longer young, his skin rough and fair hair more gray man gold. But his eyes were shrewd, and I knew Sashan could only be the village headman.
"You must be weary, lady." The formal words sounded odd in this rustic dialect. "Will you rest and talk with me?"
In other words: Will you tell me who you are and why you're here and if you're any threat to my people? I dipped my head politely. "I will."
Their beer was cool and rich, soothing to the throat. I sipped carefully, aware of its strength, and told Sashan, "I am called Reilanan, and as you've already guessed, I am a wizard."
He gave a little "tsk" of wonder. "So young a woman!"
Young. After the War, I hardly considered myself young, no matter my actual age or what Sashan saw. "I am fully trained. And fully tested, for that matter," I added wryly.