She turned instinctively toward Carse. And the eyes of all that vast throng dwelt upon him as the word spread, growing at last to an overwhelming cry of thankfulness. “Rhiannon! Rhiannon the Deliverer!” He was the Cursed One no longer, at least not to these Sarks. And for the first time, Carse realized the loathing they had had for the allies Gararch had forced upon them.
He walked toward the palace with Ywain and Boghaz and knew with a sense of awe how it felt to be a god. They entered the dim cool walls and it seemed already as though a shadow had gone out of them. Ywain paused at the doors of the throne room as though she had just remembered that she was ruler now in Garach’s place.
She turned to Carse and said, “If the Sea Kings still attack…”
“They won’t—not until they know what happened. And now we must find Rold if he still lives.”
“He lives,” said Ywain. “After the Dhuvians emptied Rold of his knowledge my father held him as hostage for me.”
They found the Lord of Khondor at last, chained in the dungeons deep under the palace walls. He was wasted and drawn with suffering but he still had the spirit left to raise his red head and snarl at Carse and Ywain.
“Demon,” he said. “Traitor. Have you and your hellcat come at last to kill me?”
Carse told him the story of Caer Dhu and Rhiannon, watching Rold’s expression change slowly from savage despair to a stunned and unbelieving joy.
“Your fleet stands off Sark under Ironbeard,” he finished. “Will you take this word to the Sea Kings and bring them in to parley?”
“Aye,” said Rold. “By the gods I will!” He stared at Carse, shaking his head. “A strange dream of madness these last days have been! And now—to think that I would have slain you gladly in the place of the Wise Ones with my own hand!”