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Tiamak leaned into the tent。 〃Father Strangyeard is ing。〃
The priest struggled up the hill hunched over； whether against the cold or because he now bore the burden of Camaris' secrets； Tiamak could not guess。 Certainly the look on his face as he made his way up the last few ells bespoke a man who had heard things he would have been happier not knowing。
〃Everyone is waiting for you。 Father Strangyeard；〃 Tiamak told him。
The archivist nodded his head distractedly。 His eye was cast down； as though he could not walk without watching where he set his feet。 Tiamak let him pass； then followed him into the parative warmth of the tent。
〃Wele back； Strangyeard；〃 said Josua。 〃Before you begin； tell me： how is Camaris？ Should we send someone to him？〃
The priest looked up in startlement； as though it was a surprise to hear a human voice。 The look he gave Josua was curiously fearful； even for the timid archivist。 〃I 。。。 I do not know。 Prince Josua。 I do not know much。。。 much of anything at this moment。〃
〃I'll go see to him；〃 Isgrimnur grumbled； levering himself up off the stool。
Father Strangyeard raised his hand。 〃He 。。。 wishes to be alone； I think。〃 He fidgeted with his eye…patch for a moment； then ran his fingers through his sparse hair。 〃Oh； merciful Usires。 Poor souls。〃
〃Poor souls？〃 said Josua。 〃What are you saying； Strangyeard？ Can you tell us anything？〃
The archivist wrung his hands。 〃Camaris was in Jao e…Tinukai'i。 That much 。。。 oh； my 。。。 that much he told me before he asked for the seal of confession； knowing that I would tell you。 But the reason； and what happened there； are locked behind the Door of the Ransomer。〃 His stare wandered around the room as if it hurt him to look at anything too long。 Then his eye fell on Vorzheva； and for some reason lingered there as he talked。 〃But this much I can say； I believe： I do not think that his experiences have aught to do with the present situation； nor is there anything to be learned from them about the Storm King； or the Three Great Swords； or any of the other things you need to know to fight this war。 Oh； merciful Usires。 Oh； dear。〃 He patted at his thin red hair again。 〃Forgive me。 Sometimes it is hard to remember that I am merely the doorkeeper of the Ransomer； and that the burden is not mine to bear； but God's。 Ah； but it is hard right now。〃
Tiamak stared。 His fellow Scrollbearer looked as though he had been visited by vengeful spirits。 The Wrannaman moved closer to Strangyeard。
〃Is that all？〃 Josua seemed disappointed。 〃Are you certain that the things he knows cannot help us？〃
〃I am not certain of anything but pain； Prince Josua；〃 the archivist said quietly but with surprising firmness。 〃But I truly think it unlikely； and I know for certain that to force anything more from that man would be cruel beyond belief； and not just to him。〃
〃Not just to him？〃 Isgrimnur said。 〃What does that mean？〃
〃Enough； please。〃 Strangyeard seemed almost angry…something Tiamak had not imagined possible。 〃I have told you what you needed to know。 Now I would like to leave。〃
Josua was taken aback。 〃Of course； Father Strangyeard。〃
The priest nodded。 〃May God watch over us all。〃
Tiamak followed Strangyeard out through the tent door。 〃Is there something I can do？〃 he asked。 〃Perhaps just walk with you？〃
The archivist hesitated； then nodded。 〃Yes。 That would be kind。〃
Camaris was gone from the spot where he had stood； Tiamak looked for him； but saw no sign。
When they had traveled some way down the hill； Strangyeard spoke in a musing voice。 〃I understand now。。。 why a man would wish to drink himself into oblivion。 I find it tempting myself at this moment。〃
Tiamak raised an eyebrow but said nothing。
〃Perhaps drunkenness and sleep are the only ways God has given us to forget；〃 Strangyeard continued。 〃And sometimes forgetting is the only cure for pain。〃
Tiamak considered。 〃In a way； Camaris was as one asleep for two score years。〃
〃And we awakened him。〃 Strangyeard smiled sadly。 〃Or； I should say； God allowed us to awaken him。 Perhaps there is a reason for all this。 Perhaps there will be some result beside sorrow after all。〃
He did not； the Wrannaman thought； sound as though he believed it。
Guthwulf paused and let the air wash over him； trying to decide which of the passageways led upward…for it was upward that the sword…song was leading him。 His nostrils twitched； sniffing for the faintest indication from the damp tunnel air as to which way he should go。 His fingers traveled back and forth along the stone walls on either side； questing like eyeless crabs。
Disembodied； alien speech washed over him once more； words that he did not hear so much as feel。 He shook his head； trying to drive them from his brain。 They were ghosts； he knew； but he had learned that they could not harm him； could not touch him。 The cluttering voices only interfered with what he truly wanted to hear。 They were not real。 The sword was real； and it was calling。
He had first felt the pull return several days before。
As he awakened into the confusion of blind solitude； as he had so many times； a thread of pelling melody had followed him up out of sleep into his waking blackness。 It was more than just another of his pitiful dreams： this was a powerful feeling； frightful and yet fortably familiar； a song without words or melody that rang in his head and wrapped him with tendrils of longing。 It tugged at him so strongly that he scrambled clumsily to his feet； eager as a young swain called by his beloved。 The sword！ It was back； it was near！
Only as the last clinging remnants of his slumbers left him did he remember that the sword was not alone。
It was never alone。 It belonged to Elias； his once…friend； now bitter enemy。 Much as Guthwulf ached to be near it； to bask in its song as he would the warmth of a fire； he knew he would have to approach cautiously。 Miserable as his current life was； he preferred it to what Elias would do to him if he was captured…or worse； what Elias would let that serpent Pryrates do to him。
It never occurred to him that it would be even better simply to leave the sword alone。 The song of it was like the splash of a stream to a traveler dying of thirst。 It drew him； and he had no choice but to follow its call。
Still； some animal cunning remained。 As he felt his way through the well…learned tunnels； he knew he needed not only to find Elias and the sword； but also to approach them in such a way so as to avoid discovery and capture； as he had managed once before to spy on the king from a shelf of rock above the foundry floor。 To this end； he followed the sword's pelling summons but remained at as great a distance as he could； like a hawk circling its master on a long trace。 But trying to resist the plete pull was maddening。 The first day he followed the sword； Guthwulf forgot pletely to go to the spot where the woman regularly left food for him。 By the second day…which； to the blind Earl of Utanyeat； was whatever came between one sleep and the next…the sword's call beating wi