Withal scratched his head. See what happens when you marry an older woman? And face it, it doesn’t take a Tiste Andii to have about a hundred thousand years of history behind her. ‘All right,’ he said slowly, ‘what now, then?’
She gestured after the refugee she’d sent scampering. ‘He doesn’t know if Nimander and the others were with the Shake-there were thousands-the only time he saw Yan Tovis was at the landing, and she was three thousand paces away. But, then, who else could have managed to open the gate? And then keep it open to admit ten thousand people? Only Andii blood can open the Road, and only royal Andii blood could keep it open! By the Abyss, they must have bled one of their own dry!’
‘This road, Sand, where does it lead?’
‘Nowhere. Oh, I should never have left Nimander and his kin! The Shake not only listened to Blind Gallan, they then went and believed him!’ She stepped closer and raised a hand, as if to strike him.
Withal backed up a step.
‘Oh, gods, just get the horses, Withal.’
As he set off, he glanced-with odd longing-after the still-running refugee.
A short time later they sat mounted, pack-horses behind them, while Sandalath, motionless, seemed to study something in front of them that only she could see. The waves thrashed to their left, the burnt forest stank on their right. The Nachts fought over a thick, massive length of driftwood that probably weighed more than all three put together. That’d make a good club… for a damned Toblakai. Sink brace plugs, wrap the knobby end in hammered iron. Stud with beaten bronze rivets and maybe a spike or three. Draw wire down the length of the shaft, and then sink a deep and heavy counterweight butt-
‘It’s healing, but the skin is thin.’ She suddenly had a knife in her hand. ‘I can get us through, I think.’
‘Do you have royal blood then?’
‘Snap shut that trap or I’ll do it for you. I told you, it’s a huge wound-barely mended. In fact, it seems weaker on the other side, which isn’t good, isn’t right, in fact. Did they stay on the Road? They must have known that much at least. Withal, listen well. Ready a weapon-’
‘A weapon? What kind of weapon?’
‘Wrong choice. Find another one.’
‘What?’
‘Stupidity won’t work. Try that mace on your belt.’
‘That’s a smith’s hammer-’
‘And you’re a smith, so presumably you know how to use it.’