Read Online A Princess of the Chameln by Cherry Wilder - Free Book Online

speaking in whispers. Lady Maren sat on the end of the bed and wiped her eyes.
    â€œNo,” she said. “A wound-fever. Lockjaw. He took a small, deep wound in the foot from his own boar spear.”
    â€œSharn Am Zor? My aunt Aravel?”
    â€œDanu Aravel has taken the children and gone into Lien.”
    Nazran stood at the foot of the stairs; he looked older than ever, but full of vigor. His white hair stood up in peaks, the hand gripping his saddlebag was gnarled like an old tree root. He was driven by a frantic haste; he drew Aidris to the end of the long refectory table. She saw a shadowy group of followers at the end of the hall.
    â€œWerris has claimed the double regency for yourself and Sharn Am Zor,” he said. “There has been fighting in the city, in the north. Gilyan stood up as regent and Esher’s Torch Bearer Zabrandor . . . nothing served. There are a thousand warriors of Mel’Nir in Achamar, more have crossed the border. The Chameln lands are in the power of Ghanor, the so-called Great King.”
    She uttered a low cry and stifled it quickly.
    â€œWhat must I do?”
    â€œYou must not come into the hands of Baron Werris,” said Nazran. “You must go at once into Athron, to the house of Nenad Am Charn, the trading envoy in Varda.”
    â€œYesterday we saw a troop of warriors.”
    â€œThey have gone to close the border at Rodfell Pass. You must take another way, through the forest. I have brought a guide, from Vigrund, a man who is loyal to your house. You should leave within the hour.”
    She gave a sharp intake of breath, and he waved a hand with frantic impatience.
    â€œPrincess, they have that poor widow woman, Micha Am Firn, shut up in Ledler. They will find out this place soon enough.”
    â€œI am ready,” she said.
    Nazran led her down the length of the hall; it was just daylight.
    â€œHere is your guide, Dan Aidris,” said Nazran formally.
    She had seen Nazran’s two elderly esquires; the third man was much younger, well-built with a short brown beard. His face was familiar.
    â€œIt is Master Ric Loeke, the son of the master huntsman. He will bring you safely into Athron.”
    Ric Loeke strode forward, solemn-faced, and knelt before Aidris.
    â€œEver the faithful servant of your house, Princess!”
    The formality was not so reassuring to her as it was to Nazran. It did not suit the man; she thought his face must have another expression, but could not picture what it might be. She gave him her thanks; he sprang up again, brisk and businesslike; she thought all might be well.
    â€œIt is a simple journey for anyone who rides well,” said Ric Loeke. “We will come into Athron in eight days at the most.”
    Maren beckoned to her; she had a saddlebag and the new fur cloak.
    â€œIt is cold in the forest.”
    She drew Aidris aside and made a business of swathing her in the cloak.
    â€œTake care, dearest child,” she said in a low voice. “You are going into a strange household, in Varda. You are a young girl. Guard your chaste treasure, Aidris.”
    Aidris embraced the old woman fiercely.
    â€œI will take care.”
    Ric Loeke came up with Nazran giving him instructions. He handed the guide one of the locked and sealed state pouches that were used for carrying jewels, coin and state papers. He handed a scrap of paper to Aidris.
    â€œContents of the pouch,” he said. “The few jewels may be kept or sold, as you wish.”
    â€œLord Nazran,” said Ric Loeke, “I had promised to take other travellers into Athron by this way.”
    â€œOther travellers?” snapped Nazran.
    â€œI am yours to command,” said the guide, “but it would do no harm if these ladies came along. I know they are ready to ride at once. The widow of a fellow guide and her daughter. It would lend us some disguise, and it is more fitting that Dan Aidris travels with attendants.”
    Nazran