"We should go our own ways," Torgan said, after a long silence. "You don't want to be with me-not if the Fal'Borna are hunting me. And I don't want you following me around, selling your cheap wares next to mine, taking gold out of my pocket."

"All right," Jasha said.

But he didn't stop, nor did he change directions. He kept his cart just beside Torgan's and together they drove southward, with the moons above them, and the fires of the Fal'Borna sept at their backs.

Chapter 15

How many villages is it now?"

Pyav's expression was grim as he regarded Tashya, as if he didn't wish even to answer her question. "At least three," he said at last. "We know of outbreaks in Runnelwick, Greenrill, and Tivston. There's no telling where else it's struck."

"And these are all Qirsi villages?"

"Runnelwick and Greenrill are Y'Qatt," Marivasse said. "As for Tivston…" She trailed off into a fit of coughing, and it seemed to Besh that the other elders leaned back in their chairs, afraid to breathe in the same air as the old woman. After a time, her spasm subsided and she wiped at her mouth with an old cloth. "I know nothing about Tivston," she said hoarsely.

For the fourth or fifth time this day, the eight of them lapsed into silence. Most of them watched Pyav, waiting for him to tell them what was to be done. Besh could hear voices in the marketplace. A baby cried. One of the dogs that sometimes wandered through the village began to bark, only to be hushed by a sharp word from someone in the lane outside the sanctuary. But inside, no one spoke.

Besh had been up much of the previous night, reading through Sylpa's daybook. He stifled a yawn now and shivered. The sun shone outside, but it had been a clear, cold night and chill air still lingered in the chamber.

He'd found nothing new for all the reading he'd done by candlelight in Lici's abandoned hut. After learning the previous day that Lici first came to Kirayde because her home village of Sentaya had been devastated by the pestilence, he'd hoped that Sylpa's journal would quickly reveal the remaining secrets of Lici's past. Instead, much to Besh's frustration, Sylpa had stopped pushing the girl for more information. It almost seemed that she was as reluctant to hear more about those dark events as the young girl was to speak of them.

And now that the pestilence had come to the plains, Besh could no longer afford the luxury of simply enjoying Sy1pa's narrative. For more than half a turn, he had been living in two times: his own, and Sy1pa's. Now, though, the exigencies of his own life were forcing him to step out of hers. He needed to know things that she had yet to learn.

"It may be that we have nothing to fear," said Korr, another of the elders. "Each of those villages is to the west of the wash."

Tashya shook her head. "That means nothing. The pestilence can't be held back by rivers or mountains or city walls. We may be safe now, but all it takes is a single stranger-a peddler, a bard, even a soldier."

"So, what would you have us do?" Pyav asked, drawing the woman's gaze.

"Close the village to all outsiders."

Several of the elders voiced their disapproval, but Tashya didn't pause. She merely raised her voice so that she could still be heard.

"Shut down the marketplace and have every peddler who doesn't live here escorted out of the village. And then post guards on all the roads leading into Kirayde. The only way to keep the pestilence out is to make an island of our home."

"Even that might not work," Besh said. "I don't necessarily disagree with what you're proposing, but you should know that it might not do any good."

"I know that," Tashya said. "That's a risk I'm willing to take."

"People have crops they want to sell," Korr said. He was one of the older members of the council, nearly as old as Marivasse, though like her, he remained spry and sharp of mind. He'd made his living as a miller before passing his business on to his son, Ojan. He was nearly bald, with a narrow band of white hair on the back of his head. He stood a full head taller than Besh, though with his stooped back and rounded shoulders, he didn't look nearly as imposing as he had as a younger man. "Ojan has flour to sell. What is he supposed to do? Where's their gold supposed to come from?"

Tashya shrugged. "They'll have to make do for a while. Not forever, perhaps not even for a full turn. Just until this outbreak has run its course."

"But this is the Harvest," Korr said. "In another turn, the weather will have turned too cold. Some will lose their crops. And who's to say that when we're ready to open our village to trade again, the peddlers will want to come back?" He shook his head. "We can't do this. Too many will suffer."

"Better to lose their gold than their children!" Tashya said, anger flashing in her bright green eyes.

Besh had seen Tashya's hard stare cow men far more certain of themselves than the old miller. Korr was overmatched, and he appeared to know it. He eyed her a moment longer, then looked away without saying anything more.

"What about the rest of you?" Pyav said, looking around the chamber. "Are there any other suggestions short of shutting down the marketplace?"

"Not just the marketplace," Tashya said. "If we merely keep out peddlers while letting others in, we accomplish nothing."

A wry smile touched the eldest's lips. "My pardon. Any other suggestions aside from closing the lanes into the village?"

Tashya nodded her approval.

"What about you, Marivasse?" Pyav asked. "You're our herbmistress. Surely you have some ideas."

But the old woman shook her head. "I've yet to find a tonic that could contend with the pestilence, and I've yet to meet a Mettai sorcerer powerful enough to stave off the disease with blood and blade." She glanced Tashya's way. "I don't particularly like Tashya's solution, but I don't see that we have any choice."

Pyav looked at Besh, who gave a slight shake of his head. The eldest frowned.

"I'll consider this," Pyav said, turning back to Tashya.

"What's to consider?" she demanded. "We know that the pestilence is killing people only a few leagues from here. We have to do something immediately."

"It's more than a few leagues, Tashya."

She started to say more, but Pyav raised a hand and she fell silent. Korr might have been afraid of her, but the eldest was not.

"You may be right. It may come to this. But Korr makes a good point as well. The Snows are corning, and people in this village need gold to get through. Closing Kirayde to peddlers is a last resort. But the first we hear of outbreaks on this side of the Silverwater, we'll do it."

"And what if we're the first?"

"I'm hoping we won't be."

There was nothing she could say to that, and a few moments later the council adjourned.

A few of the elders continued their discussion outside, gathering in a small knot near the door to the sanctuary. But Besh started away immediately, intending to return to Lici's house and Sy1pa's journal.

"Besh, wait a moment."

He stopped and turned. Tashya was striding toward him, her black hair shimmering in the morning sunlight. Despite the ghosts who hovered at each shoulder-Sylpa and his beloved Ema-he couldn't help but think that Tashya was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. Even now, well past her tenth four, she remained as lovely as she'd been in her youth.

Besh expected her to speak to him of their discussion in the council, but she surprised him.

"You're on your way to Lici's," she said, a statement, not a question.

"Yes. If

She nodded once. "Pyav has told me what you're looking for." "He thinks I'm wasting my time."