I think you will love me till I die, she thought. And even if you don’t, that’s exactly how long I will love you.
IT was a relief to escape the small house, though the price was a promise to return in a couple of weeks.
“Unless we’re gone from Ghosenhall, which I have a feelingwe might be,” Senneth said, pausing at the front door to hug Carryl good-bye. “I think the king might be about to send me out on a mission somewhere, and you know I like to bring Tayse with me for protection.”
A compliment to her son always set Carryl to beaming. “Yes—you’ll be safe no matter where you go, if Tayse is with you.”
“That’s what I think, too.”
“Well, if you leave, let me know you’re going, and try to come visit as soon as you get back.”
“We will,” Tayse said, giving his mother a farewell kiss. “Take care.”
And they were free.
A quick walk back to the palace, and Senneth invited Tayse to accompany her to her meeting with the king. “He knows if he wants me to go anywhere, you’ll be with me, so you may as well come listen now,” she said. He grinned, nodded, and followed her through the gilded corridors.
The king was seated in his study, a small, cluttered room of tall windows, blue furnishings, and piles of maps and papers. Baryn himself was a lanky man, with the good-natured smile and unkempt white hair of a lunatic inventor. His brown eyes peered out through smudged spectacles on a world he seemed to find perpetually entertaining. He appeared to be perusing a complex letter when Senneth and Tayse entered, and without even looking up, he motioned them to two seats across from his desk.
“Yes, yes, in a minute—I just wanted to read this again— exactly.” He dropped the paper and gave them a bright smile. “How is my favorite mystic? I cannot call Tayse my favorite Rider, you know, because that would cause jealousy among my loyal guard and no end of conflict and recriminations.”
Senneth grinned. “Well, if Kirra were to hear you call me your favorite mystic, I think there would be just as much rage and envy.”
He waved a thin hand. “Oh, I whisper to her that she is my favorite, but that I am forced to placate you so you don’t burn down my palace.”
“Such a wise king,” she said. “So adept at keeping his subjects happy.”
“And I am about to make you happier,” he said. “You’re a most restless woman, and yet you’ve patiently stayed here in Ghosenhall for how many weeks, not complaining about boredom! I appreciate your restraint.”
“You want me to go on a mission for you.”
“To Coravann Keep, if you would be so kind.”
She nodded. “Surely. What’s the news from marlord Heffel? Is he recovered?” There had been a convocation of marlords at Ghosenhall just a week ago, but Heffel had not been among those present, prevented from traveling because of a lung infection.
Baryn picked up the paper again. “He says he is improving every day, but that’s not the most interesting part of this letter. He writes that some of his wife’s relatives have come to visit for a few weeks. His wife’s relatives, in case you didn’t know—”
“Are from the Lirrens,” Senneth supplied. “I did know. Some of them were visiting last summer when we passed through.”
“Apparently there is an endless stream of them, crossing the mountains and trading their goods. One group comes and leaves, then another. I don’t understand how any woman could have had so much family.”
Senneth was laughing. “They’re not all related by blood, I’m sure. There’s a close-knit clan network, and any of the Lahja alliance—I think it’s the Lahja who claim Heffel as kin— would consider themselves to be part of the same family.”
Baryn put up a hand. “Please. I cannot keep all the feuds and families straight when it comes to the Lirrenfolk. But I thought you might find it interesting to talk to some of these fellows.”
Senneth leaned back in her chair. “What would I be talking to them about?”
Baryn made a delicate motion with his head. “War may be coming. We might need allies. The people of the Lirrens don’t have many ties with the people of Gillengaria, but I have met some of their young men, and they are certainly a contentious breed. Perhaps a few of them would be interested in throwing their lot in with our armies. At any rate, I would rather secure them for our troops then let them be wooed away by Halchon Gisseltess for his.”
“They might fight for us,” Senneth said. “I’ve considered it before. But you might not raise more than a few hundred men from their ranks.”
“Better a few hundred with us than a few hundred against us,” Tayse commented.
“And they are skilled fighters,” Baryn added. “Worth recruiting.”
Senneth arched her eyebrows. “And when have you been privileged to watch Lirren men showing off their battle skills?”
“Pella and I traveled across the Lireth Mountains about a year before she died,” Baryn said. He always spoke the name of his first queen very calmly, but Senneth sometimes wondered what it cost him. By all accounts, he had loved her a great deal. “We found the people fierce but polite. Pella was completely captivated and she made several close friends there.”
Senneth tilted her head. Pella’s death had come quite suddenly; few people had known the queen was even sick. But perhaps Baryn and Pella had known. Perhaps they had crossed the mountains looking for a cure. Among the Lirren women were healers so gifted they could save almost any life, no matter how far gone. Had Baryn known that? Had the queen?
“I’m glad they treated you well,” she said. “They don’t always take kindly to strangers. Even strangers who call themselves king.”
Baryn was smiling. “But I’m a most gracious king,” he pointed out. “In any case, perhaps you could persuade them that I’m worth fighting for. Play on whatever sympathies you think they have, and recruit some of those ferocious men for my armies.”
Senneth nodded slowly. “All right. I don’t know what success I’ll have, but I’m happy to meet with Heffel’s in-laws and mention the idea.”
“But before you get to Coravann,” he said, “you might want to stop in and visit Rafe Storian.”
Senneth laughed in disbelief. “Storian City is in entirely the opposite direction!”
“I know. But Rafe was so outspoken when he was here last week. He might appreciate a chance to express his views a second time, rather forcefully, to a smaller audience.”
“I don’t have much rapport with Rafe Storian,” Senneth said dryly. “I don’t envision him confiding in me.”
“It’s the gesture that counts,” the king said. “It will please him that I am willing to hear him out, no matter what messenger I send.”
“All right. Anywhere else you’d like me to go?”
“Not that I can think of at the moment,” he said.
“You realize this is a trip that will take a certain amount of time. It could be weeks before the journey is concluded.”
“I understand that, but you must understand that I will be sitting here, impatient to hear what you’ve learned,” he replied. “So come back to Ghosenhall as soon as you have anything to report.”
She widened her eyes. “Of course.”
The king was not convinced. “I know you! Once you escape from the strict confines of the palace, you’ll be reluctant to ever come back. If I let you go now, you won’t return for months.”
Laughing, she closed her fingers around the pendant she always wore, a flat gold disk meant to represent the sun goddess. That and a moonstone bracelet were the only pieces of jewelry she actually owned. “I’ll be back the minute my mission is discharged,” she promised. “I swear by the Bright Mother’s red eye! What could possibly keep me?”
THE evening was taken up with packing a few clothes, visiting the great kitchens for a supply of dried food and other travel essentials, and planning their best route. And bathing. Again. Who knew when they would next be indoors at a facility large enough to offer a tub and plent
iful water? Senneth washed her hair twice, short as it was, just to make sure it was clean.
In the morning when Tayse opened the door, he almost fell over Cammon, who was sprawled on the floor before their room. Catching himself before his heavy foot came down on the boy’s stomach, Tayse merely gazed down at Cammon with no apparent expression of surprise. “What are you doing here?” he asked.
Cammon scrambled to his feet. Senneth noted his worn travel clothes and the scruffy leather bag slung over his shoulder. “I’m coming with you,” he said cheerfully.
Tayse raised his eyebrows, utterly expressionless. But Senneth could tell he was deeply amused. “You are? Where are we going?”
Cammon waved a hand. “Somewhere. South, I think. I couldn’t tell exactly.”
She could hardly contain her laughter as she came to gaze over Tayse’s shoulder. “What makes you think we want company?” she asked. “Perhaps we were looking forward to a leisurely, intimate trip. Just the two of us. Since we so rarely have any time alone.”
Cammon was not abashed in the slightest. “I’ll get my own room when you stay at an inn. And you know I’m useful when you have to camp out.”
Tayse glanced back at Senneth. “Well? Should we bring him?”
“I always earn my keep,” Cammon said.
Completely without inflection, Tayse repeated, “He always earns his keep.”
She couldn’t keep the smile back any longer. “Indeed he does. And I’m sure they’ll be happy to see him again in Coravann. Let’s saddle up three horses and be on our way.”
CHAPTER 10
IT seemed, at least the first week they were back at the convent, that the Lestra had forgotten Ellynor’s existence. For which Ellynor was profoundly grateful. The new moon slowly resumed her gauzy silver garments, and every night more novices joined the group outside in the courtyard, singing the Pale Lady’s praises. Ellynor’s work shifts rotated between kitchen duties, clean-up duties, a stint in the laundry, and many days spent in the fading garden. They had a spell of cold weather that made everyone else shiver but turned Ellynor hopeful. Winter could not come soon enough for her.
She spent much of her free time thinking about her trip to Neft, which had held so many new experiences. The sumptuous Gisseltess mansion—the fine foods so casually served— the exhilarating walk alone through the city streets, marveling at all the shops.
The encounter with Justin. That was what she thought about most of all.
She was almost relieved when sickness moved through the convent and half the novices succumbed to cough and fever. Finally, an important task she could focus on that would require all her skill and energy. No more thinking about handsome young men who could end up dead if they so much as touched her hair.
Darris was the senior Daughter in charge of their day-today health, so she was the one who ran the infirmary. Anyone who volunteered to tend the sick was immediately relieved of other duties, but even so, there weren’t that many girls who had the patience for nursing. Darris was always glad to get Ellynor’s assistance—gladder still when Ellynor offered to take the night shift. As she always did.
“But wake me up if Lia gets any worse,” Darris said, after running through a list of instructions that covered the five girls currently in the infirmary. “Everyone else is mostly just uncomfortable, but her fever is high enough to frighten me, and I don’t think she’s swallowed anything since noon. I don’t think—but I’ve seen cases before—well, I’m worried, that’s all.”
“I’ll sit with her,” Ellynor promised.
“And Astira’s none too strong, either,” Darris continued. “But the others should all be well enough to go to their rooms tomorrow.” The plump older woman turned her head aside and produced a wheezing cough.
“You’re sick yourself!” Ellynor exclaimed.
Darris waved a dismissive hand. “No. Not sick. Too busy to be sick.”
“Sometimes sick doesn’t care about busy,” Ellynor said.
“I’ll be better in the morning.”
After a few more exchanges, Darris left. Ellynor moved through the infirmary, checking the patients. Everyone sleeping, except Astira, who sighed deeply when Ellynor approached. “I feel horrible,” she whispered. “And I’m hot. And I can’t fall asleep. Is there something you can give me? If only I could sleep.”
“Let me see what Darris left behind.” Ellynor picked through the pressed herbs and medicinal concoctions that Darris had mixed up, and then handed Astira a glass with a rather nasty-smelling liquid. “Drink that. I think it’ll help.”
She didn’t really think it would, of course, but most people liked to believe they were drinking some kind of potion that targeted their illness. “Lie back,” she said next, and ran a cool cloth over Astira’s warm forehead, sponging off her neck and shoulders.
All the while, feeling the power of the Black Mother tingling through her fingertips, drifting over Astira’s skin, sinking toward the bones.
Astira sighed. “I do feel better,” she said. “I’m going to close my eyes. Will you be here when I wake up?”
“If you wake before morning.”
“All right then,” Astira said drowsily, and not another word.
Ellynor checked the other beds again, then settled beside Lia. She was probably no more than sixteen, a slight, delicate, fair-haired girl with a dreamy manner on the best of days. She was thin enough to make Ellynor suspect she had come from poverty, though she knew little about Lia’s history. Frail enough to have a hard time fending off disease. Had probably seen brothers and sisters die of just such a fever, might have barely survived a similar illness a time or two in her past.
“Great Mother,” Ellynor whispered, laying her hands on either side of Lia’s face, “use my body to save this child.”
She felt it again, the jolt of power, the steady stream of warmth and courage and strength. The waxing moon had set already; all Ellynor could see when she looked out was spangled night. The only goddess she could sense in the room with her was the Dark Watcher, hovering just at her back, her broad palms laid on Ellynor’s shoulders. Ellynor felt a richness in her blood, coloring her skin, making her glow with an opal darkness.
She pulled the fever from Lia’s body into her own, and her hands felt momentarily hot. She drew the congestion from Lia’s lungs, and briefly, Ellynor could not breathe. She stole the illness from Lia and held it tightly in her own arms, until the Great Mother siphoned it away. Out into the cool night sky to dissipate between the stars.
Lia stirred and seemed to smile, then turned on her pillow, her hand underneath her cheek. Ellynor felt the Dark Watcher withdraw, flowing from the room as if a wind had blown backward. Her own body felt curiously light, as if her bones had been ground up fine, and curiously heavy, so that she could scarcely move. She settled as comfortably as she could in the chair beside Lia and promptly fell asleep.
IN the morning, Ellynor woke when someone impatiently shook her shoulder. “Have you been sleeping here all night?” Darris demanded. “Look at you! Have you gotten up once to offer anyone a drink of water or another potion? I thought I could expect better of you, Ellynor. I am very disappointed.”
Ellynor was groggy enough to wonder, for a very brief moment, exactly where she was. When she remembered, she felt a thin spiral of panic down her spine. She had slept the night through! Lia had been sicker than she realized, because healing her had required enough energy to sap much of Ellynor’s strength. She made a weak defense. “No, I—I checked on everyone when I first arrived, and then I—”
“She gave us most excellent care,” Astira spoke from across the room. She was sitting up in bed, yawning, and she looked completely recovered. “I had water several times in the night, and so did the others, didn’t you?” Lia still slept, but the other three patients murmured quick agreements. “I feel quite well, thanks to Ellynor,” Astira added, and again the other three nodded. Indeed, they looked like they had never known a day’s illness in their lives.
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