Jehangli. I’m afraid I made a rather poor choice. It was part of a very sad story, and of course she asked me to translate,” Shima said, hoping the man would leave it at that.
So, of course, he didn’t. “What was so sad about it, Your Grace?” Romsley asked.
Shima looked back as innocently as he could while desperately trying to come up with a plausible fib. He still didn’t think his telling of the story was anything to weep over—except for a bard. Unfortunately, Lord Romsley’s gimlet stare seemed to bore holes in his mind and all his ideas leaked out before he could catch them.
“The little swallow that had been such a faithful companion in the story died,” Karelinn said into the growing silence. “You know how she is about animals, Father. I’m sure it made her think of poor little Goldwing. She still misses him so.”
“Hrmm, hrmm—yes, that would do it. She’s too softhearted sometimes.” With a sigh of relief, the now reassured Lord Romsley lumbered from the room.
As the Kelnethi lord disappeared through the door, Shima let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Karelinn sank down on the bench and wiped her forehead. They looked at each other and laughed weakly.
“That was close,” Karelinn said ruefully. “Too close.”
“Indeed.” Shima studied her for a moment; he had two questions for her.
She met his eyes, then looked away. “Thank you for taking the blame upon yourself, Shima Ilyathan.”
“It was no more than the truth. Who was Goldwing?”
“Merri’s pet songbird. He was a darling. Aunt Perrilinia’s cat got him—right in front of Merri, too. It was awful and happened just before we left.”
“Then I’m surprised she’s so concerned for that kitten Lord Eadain found. I would think she’d hate cats.”
“Oh, no! Not even Lady Bella, Aunt Perrilinia’s cat. It’s a cat’s nature, after all, to chase birds. If only Aunt Perrilinia’s maid hadn’t left the door to the room open…”
She must have guessed that there was another question lying in wait. Before he could ask it, she jumped up. “I should make certain Merri’s well,” she said with forced brightness as she sidled toward the door. “And bring Soot some milk. If you’ll excuse me, my lord?”
She was away before he could reply. Shima gave her enough time to get up the stairs, then followed. It was late, he was tired—and he could always ask her the next time they were alone.
Five
Near the border between Yerrih and Kelneth, the dawn was breaking over the Kiltren hills to the east. As the first rays of light spread rosy fingers over the thatched roofs of Grey Holt, a door opened in the main hall of the Beast Healers’ compound and a slender figure slipped out. A heavy, short-legged animal scrambled out just as the door shut once more.
Yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Pod hurried to the stable for her morning chores. Close on her heels came her familiar, one of the powerful, bearlike woods dogs of the north.
Shaking her head, Pod grumbled, “Bah! Just can’t wake up quite all the way this morning, Kiga.”
She slapped at her cheeks. What if the Guild Master looked out his window and saw her like this? He’d think she was just a lazy slugabed and would never consider her fit to go with the Healwort Guild for Wort Hunter training.
“And I really want to go with them before I’m a journeywoman,” she told her familiar. “Only the best go while they’re still ’prentices—like Conor did. I wonder when they’re coming—d’you think I can talk Gunnis into putting in a word for me? Conor will be so proud if I’m chosen to go.” She stifled another yawn before it could escape and slapped at her cheeks once more.
It didn’t help. Still yawning, she heaved open one of the stout oak doors and slipped inside, Kiga so close, his nose almost touched her boot heels.
Shrill neighs of alarm woke Pod up that last little bit. She jumped, her heart pounding, trying
So, of course, he didn’t. “What was so sad about it, Your Grace?” Romsley asked.
Shima looked back as innocently as he could while desperately trying to come up with a plausible fib. He still didn’t think his telling of the story was anything to weep over—except for a bard. Unfortunately, Lord Romsley’s gimlet stare seemed to bore holes in his mind and all his ideas leaked out before he could catch them.
“The little swallow that had been such a faithful companion in the story died,” Karelinn said into the growing silence. “You know how she is about animals, Father. I’m sure it made her think of poor little Goldwing. She still misses him so.”
“Hrmm, hrmm—yes, that would do it. She’s too softhearted sometimes.” With a sigh of relief, the now reassured Lord Romsley lumbered from the room.
As the Kelnethi lord disappeared through the door, Shima let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. Karelinn sank down on the bench and wiped her forehead. They looked at each other and laughed weakly.
“That was close,” Karelinn said ruefully. “Too close.”
“Indeed.” Shima studied her for a moment; he had two questions for her.
She met his eyes, then looked away. “Thank you for taking the blame upon yourself, Shima Ilyathan.”
“It was no more than the truth. Who was Goldwing?”
“Merri’s pet songbird. He was a darling. Aunt Perrilinia’s cat got him—right in front of Merri, too. It was awful and happened just before we left.”
“Then I’m surprised she’s so concerned for that kitten Lord Eadain found. I would think she’d hate cats.”
“Oh, no! Not even Lady Bella, Aunt Perrilinia’s cat. It’s a cat’s nature, after all, to chase birds. If only Aunt Perrilinia’s maid hadn’t left the door to the room open…”
She must have guessed that there was another question lying in wait. Before he could ask it, she jumped up. “I should make certain Merri’s well,” she said with forced brightness as she sidled toward the door. “And bring Soot some milk. If you’ll excuse me, my lord?”
She was away before he could reply. Shima gave her enough time to get up the stairs, then followed. It was late, he was tired—and he could always ask her the next time they were alone.
Five
Near the border between Yerrih and Kelneth, the dawn was breaking over the Kiltren hills to the east. As the first rays of light spread rosy fingers over the thatched roofs of Grey Holt, a door opened in the main hall of the Beast Healers’ compound and a slender figure slipped out. A heavy, short-legged animal scrambled out just as the door shut once more.
Yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Pod hurried to the stable for her morning chores. Close on her heels came her familiar, one of the powerful, bearlike woods dogs of the north.
Shaking her head, Pod grumbled, “Bah! Just can’t wake up quite all the way this morning, Kiga.”
She slapped at her cheeks. What if the Guild Master looked out his window and saw her like this? He’d think she was just a lazy slugabed and would never consider her fit to go with the Healwort Guild for Wort Hunter training.
“And I really want to go with them before I’m a journeywoman,” she told her familiar. “Only the best go while they’re still ’prentices—like Conor did. I wonder when they’re coming—d’you think I can talk Gunnis into putting in a word for me? Conor will be so proud if I’m chosen to go.” She stifled another yawn before it could escape and slapped at her cheeks once more.
It didn’t help. Still yawning, she heaved open one of the stout oak doors and slipped inside, Kiga so close, his nose almost touched her boot heels.
Shrill neighs of alarm woke Pod up that last little bit. She jumped, her heart pounding, trying
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