“ Would I not?” echoed the question in Carse’s brain. And memories came rushing back—the nightmare darkness of the Tomb, when he had seemed to feel an eager alien presence, and the dreams and the half-remembered knowledge that was not his own.
It was not true. It could not be true. He would not let it be true.
Boghaz came up onto the dais. He gave Carse one queer shrewd glance but when he spoke to the Sea Kings his manner was smoothly diplomatic.
“No doubt the Lady Emer has wisdom far beyond mine and I mean her no disrespect. However, the barbarian is my friend and I speak from my own knowledge. He is what he says, no more and no less.”
The men of the galley crew growled a warning assent to that.
Boghaz continued. “Consider, my lords. Would Rhiannon slay a Dhuvian and make war on the Sarks? Would he offer victory to Khondor?”
“No!” said Ironbeard. “By the gods, he wouldn’t. He was all for the Serpent’s spawn.”
Emer spoke, demanding their attention. “My lords, have I ever lied or advised you wrongly?”
They shook their heads and Rold said, “No. But your word is not enough in this.”
“Very well, forget my words. There is a way to prove whether or not he is Rhiannon. Let him pass the testing before the Wise Ones.”