Read Online The White Road by Lynn Flewelling - Free Book Online Page B

the khirnari. It had been a week since the assassins’ attempt, and there had been no trouble since.
    “Thank you for the chances you’ve taken, harboring us here,” Seregil said, pressing a hand to his heart. “And for the care and friendship you’ve extended to my talímenios. If ever you need our help, we’ll be here like the wind.”
    “If you can manage not to get yourselves killed in the meantime,” Riagil said.
    Holding a closely bundled Sebrahn by the hand, Alec managed a grin. “We have so far.” The khirnari seemed happier today; Alec suspected Riagil was glad to see the back of them. “And thank you again for this,” he added with genuine gratitude. Riagil had given him a bow and quiver when he learned that Alec’s famous Black Radly had been lost to the slavers. It was a flat bow made of lemonwood from southern Aurënen and backed with vellum. It was as fine a one as he’d ever handled, well balanced and as light as it was strong. The limbs pulled evenly and true, with nearly the same weight as the Radly.
    With the last of the farewells said and gifts given, they boarded the ship and soon got under way. The salt-laden breeze caressed Alec’s face and pulled little tendrils from his braid as he stood at the prow with Seregil, Sebrahn betweenthem, savoring the familiar tug of excitement as the clustered white houses and then the harbor slid away into the mist behind them. The start of any journey filled him with anticipation, and this time he was going to Bôkthersa.
    Seregil covered Alec’s gloved hand with his own and leaned close. “Deep thoughts for deep water?”
    “Not really. I’m just excited to finally be—”
    “Don’t say it!” Seregil exclaimed, grey eyes going comically wide. “You’ll jinx us.”
    Alec grinned. “Well, I hope Astellus will smile on this voyage. How’s that?”
    “I wouldn’t tempt fate.”
    “You don’t believe in fate.”
    Seregil stared out at the flock of red-winged terns winging along beside them. “Maybe I’m changing my mind about that. I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened in Plenimar.”
    “It’s over, talí,” Alec murmured, raising Seregil’s hand and kissing the back of it—a bold move for the reticent northerner, here on deck where anyone could see.
    “Not the enslavement and humiliation, Alec; how we got there in the first place. A man I knew nearly five decades ago, the man who changed the entire course of my life—and there Ilar was in Yhakobin’s house, at the center of the web that caught us!” He plucked one of Sebrahn’s long hairs from Alec’s shoulder. “And the bastard has changed my life again, hasn’t he?” He let the wind take the strand. “And yours.”
    “I’ve been thinking about Ilar a lot, too. The first time you ever told me about him, you swore you’d kill him on sight, but in the end you took pity on him instead.”
    Seregil rested his elbows on the rail and heaved a weary sigh. “Are you still jealous? Do you think I was weak for saving him?”
    “Weak? No, you were merciful. I know I was angry at the time, talí, but looking back, I’m glad.”
    Seregil raised a skeptical brow. “So you’re
not
jealous anymore?”
    It was Alec’s turn to stare out across the waves. “That pathetic eunuch? What is there to be jealous of?”
    “As I recall, you weren’t so philosophical at the time.”
    “Not when I caught him trying to kiss you down there by that stream. And he betrayed me, too, just like he did you, after making me trust him all that time in Yhakobin’s house.”
    “But before you knew the truth? What did you think of him when you still thought he was ‘Khenir’?”
    Alec looked away, suddenly uncomfortable. If he was honest with himself, he had to admit that he had liked the man. But only because Ilar had been kind to him—a seeming friend in a friendless place. “He was still lying,” he said, stubbornly shaking off the thought. “So what do you think? Is he