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or Belinda?"
Rogan coughed a laugh, glancing sidelong at the guards. "No mere
fortune-teller can predict that.
Women do what they choose to do; they do not depend on fate."
Kellin tugged his tutor in the direction the pass-
ing boy had indicated. "Let us go, Rogan. That boy says the fortune-teller can
predict what be-
comes of me."
A TAPESTRY OF LIONS 45
"That boy is a shill. He says what he's told to say, and the fortune-teller
says what he's paid to say."
"Ro-gan\"
Rogan sighed. "If you desire it so much "
"Aye!" Kellin tugged him on until they stood before a tent slumped
halfheartedly against a wall. A black cat, small version of the Mujhar's Hr,
Sleeta, lay stretched out on a faded rug before the entrance, idly licking one
paw; beside him curled a half-grown fawn-hued dog who barely lifted an eyelid.
The tent itself was small, its once-glorious stripes faded gold against pale
brown, so that it merged into the wall. "My grandsire gave you coin for such
things," Kellin reminded his tutor. "Surely he could not count it ill-spent if
we enjoyed it!"
Graying eyebrows arched. "A sound point. That much you have mastered, if not
your history."
Rogan gestured for the guardsmen to precede them into the tent.
"No!" Kellin cried.
"They must, Kellin. The Mujhar has given or-
ders. And after what you provoked in the Steppes warrior, I should take you
home immediately."
Kellin compromised immediately. "They may come wait here." His gesture
encompassed the rug and entrance. "But not inside the tent. A fortune is a
private thing."
"I cannot allow the Prince of "
"Say nothing of titles!" Ketlin cried. "How will the fortune-teller give me
the truth otherwise? If he knows what I am, it cheats the game."
"At least you admit it is a game, for which I
thank the gods; you are not entirely gullible. But rules are rules; the Mujhar
is my lord, not you."
Rogan ordered one of the guardsmen into the tent.
"He will see that it is safe."
Kellin waited impatiently until the guardsman
46 Jennifer Roberson came out again. When the man nodded his head, Rogan had
him and his companions assume posts just outside the tent.
"Now?" Kellin asked, and as Rogan nodded he slipped through the doorflap.
Inside the tent, Kellin found the shadows stuffy and redolent of an acrid,
spice-laden smoke that set his eyes to watering. He wiped at them hastily,
wrinkling his nose at the smell very much as the street dog did to the
suhoqla, and squinted to peer through the thready haze- A gauzy dark curtain
merged with shadow to hide a portion of the tent;
he and Rogan stood in what a castle-raised boy would call an antechamber,
though the walls were fabric in place of stone.
Rogan bent slightly, resting a hand on Kellin's shoulder as he spoke in a low
tone. "You must recall that he works for coin, Kellin. Put no faith in his
words."
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Kellin frowned. "Don't spoil it."
"I merely forewarn that what he says "
"Don't spoil it!"
The gauzy curtain was parted. The fortune-teller was a nondescript, colorless
foreign man of inde-
terminate features, wearing baggy saffron panta-
loons and three silk vests over a plain tunic: one dyed blue, the next red,
the third bright green.
"Forgive an old man his vice: I smoke husath, which is not suitable for guests
unless they also share the vice." He moved out of the shadowed curtain,
bringing the sweet-sour aroma with him.
"I do not believe either of you would care for it."
"What is it?" Kellin was fascinated.
Rogan stirred slightly. "Indeed, a vice. It puts dreams in a man's head."
Kellin shrugged. "Dreams are not so bad. I
dream every night."
"Husath dreams are different. They can be dan-
A TAPESTRY OF Lioivs 47
gerous when they make a man forget to eat or drink." Rogan stared hard at the
man- "The boy wants his fortune told, nothing more. You need not initiate him
into a curiosity that may prove dangerous."
"Of course." The man smiled faintly and ges-
tured to a rug spread across the floor. "Be in com-
fort, and I will share with you your future, and a little of your past."
"He is all of ten; his past is short," Rogan said dryly. "This shouldn't take
long."
"It will take as long as it must." The fortune-
teller gestured again. "I promise you no tricks, no husath, no nonsense, only
the truth."
Kellin turned and gazed up at Rogan. "You first."
The brows arched again. "We came for you."
"You first."
Rogan considered it, then surrendered grace-
fully, folding long legs to seat himself upon the rug just opposite the
fortune-teller. "For the boy's sake, then."
"And nothing for yourself?" The fortune-teller's
teeth were stained pale yellow. "Give me your hands."
Kellin dropped to his knees and waited eagerly.
"Go on, Rogan. Give him your hands."
With a small, ironic smile, Rogan acquiesced.
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