Moons' Dreaming (Children of the Rock) (17 page)

“
Nonsense!
”
Nocca returned loudly. Dael appreciated his brother
’
s vote of confidence, but would have preferred an offer of help.

The angry drunk
’
s only interest was seeing blood. His knife whisked toward Dael
’
s face.

Dael
’
s reaction was automatic. He stepped, turned, grabbed, and heard the satisfying crack of his assailant
’
s arm breaking. It was all very simple, hardly a killing situation, regardless of his reputation. The expressions of stunned surprise on the faces in the crowd reminded him that in Edian his skills were legendary.

“
Did you see that?
”
someone muttered in the awed silence.

“
See what? I didn
’
t even see him move!
”

Dael felt himself redden as he lowered the unconscious man to the floor. Nocca laughed with satisfaction.

“
You can clean up the mess,
”
Dael growled at his large little brother. He turned to the innkeeper.
“
The law reader will make arrangements for these four to work off the damages.
”

She nodded and grumbled her thanks, carefully not looking him in the eye. Dael frowned at her reaction, but it was no surprise after all his years in the guards. People came to him to solve their problems. They didn
’
t necessarily appreciate his solutions.

Before he could maneuver toward the doorway, a delicate hand touched his arm.

“
Dael,
”
a familiar sweet contralto murmured.

Oh, gods. I don
’
t have time for this, either.
Aloud he said,
“
Not now. I
’
m on duty.
”

The brown-haired, heart-faced girl leaned on his arm.
“
That
’
s never stopped you before,
”
she sighed at him.

He removed her and gently put her aside.
“
Another day,
”
he promised.
When I don
’
t have so much to worry about.

This time the crowd let him through. Out on the street he took a few deep breaths of fragrant summer evening air. A nearby herb garden and a pen full of sheep helped scent the night, although many people would have had another word for the aroma the animals contributed to the evening air. Besides, anything was better than the combined stenches of drink and sweat and fear that had surrounded him inside.

Vray enjoys Edian, too,
a nagging voice in the back of his mind taunted.

“
You make it look so easy.
”

Dael stopped and turned, annoyed at the further interruption of his thoughts. At least the owner of the light baritone voice was not likely to be bringing him another problem to be solved.
“
Ivey,
”
he acknowledged the younger man curtly.
“
I didn
’
t see you inside.
”

“
I wasn
’
t inside. Watching people watching you tells the tale well enough for someone who knows you.
”

“
Was it an entertaining tale, minstrel?
”

“
Sarcasm? So that
’
s how it is.
”
Ivey came up beside Dael, curly head tilted to one side in solemn contemplation. The effect was diminished somewhat by the presence of the dappled gray pack pony trailing patiently at the minstrel
’
s heels.
“
Actually, I have used your exploits as entertainment from time to time. I hope you don
’
t mind.
”

“
You wouldn
’
t stop if I did.
”
He couldn
’
t see much of the other man in the gloom of the street, but he knew the smells of dust and horse sweat and what they meant.
“
When did you arrive?
”

“
At sunset. I
’
ve been in the market square.
”

“
Let
’
s walk.
”

Ivey and his pony followed without comment as Dael led them downhill, away from the castle. Far ahead of them, a young couple strolled arm in arm, heads bent toward one another in intimate conversation. The rest of the street was quiet and empty.

“
They say Emlie died quickly,
”
Ivey offered.

“
It was quick, as merciful as an unnecessary death can be.
”
Dael rotated his shoulders, the muscles stiff with a tension that had nothing to do with his brief flurry of activity at the inn.

The pony snorted loudly, a fitting comment as far as Dael was concerned. Ivey said,
“
I know you, Captain. You tried to save the princess, but couldn
’
t. And now you
’
re judging yourself too harshly.
”

Dael almost let the misconception stand. Once Ivey believed he understood the root of something, be it a conflict between kingdoms or a man
’
s mood, he would let the matter rest and go on to the next challenge. The gods knew there were enough challenges in the world to keep the minstrel busy. He didn
’
t need to hear Dael
’
s formless fears. Even as the thought flicked through his mind and slid away, Dael heard himself say,
“
Vray
’
s gone.
”

The controlled breathing of the minstrel didn
’
t change.
“
When?
”
he asked quietly.

Dael looked at him accusingly.
“
You already knew.
”

“
No. I had no idea. But it explains the feeling I
’
ve had for the past few minutes.
”

After a suitable pause Dael prompted,
“
What feeling?
”

“
The feeling that if I said the wrong thing you
’
d run away from me exactly as you ran away from the inn.
”

“
I didn
’
t run
…
All right. I am running. In circles. She held a Remembering.
”

“
So I heard.
”

“
The next morning she was gone, sent abroad in Rhenlan to study as a young princess should, and it
’
s partly my fault.
”

“
Oh?
”

Grateful that the darkness hid his embarrassment, Dael described Vray
’
s growing infatuation with him, and Prince Damon
’
s practical solution. Ivey sensibly refrained from any ribald remarks and allowed Dael to finish his story without interruption.

“
I don
’
t see why you
’
re worried,
”
the minstrel said as they turned the corner into another quiet street.
“
You know why she
’
s gone, and what she
’
s probably doing.
”

“
She hasn
’
t been seen, Ivey.
”

“
How far have you looked?
”
Ivey asked.
“
For that matter, how far should you look, given that her absence is with the knowledge and approval of the king?
”

“
It
’
s just that I miss the girl, Ivey.
”

“
I
’
m sure she misses you, too. And she
’
ll probably be kept away from Edian until she stops missing you.
”
They reached the goldsmithy
’
s lamp-lit windows and turned down the path to the back door.
“
Your parents are going to think I don
’
t like Edian
’
s inns. I stay with them too often.
”

“
They like you.
”

“
They like my singing.
”

“
They like being the first to hear your news.
”

“
I
’
ve a lot to tell.
”
Ivey stopped Dael before they reached the door.
“
Don
’
t worry about Princess Vray. If I hear anything, I
’
ll send word to you.
”

Dael draped his arm over the minstrel
’
s shoulders.
“
Thank you.
”
He pushed the kitchen door open.
“
Dad! Mom! Company!
”

* * *

Hot nights in the mountains didn
’
t happen very often. The heat contributed to Pirse
’
s being unable to sleep. The heat and the memories. He lay in the darkened main room of Doron
’
s small house and willed himself to stop sweating. A nineday before he would have blamed it on fever, but the fever hadn
’
t bothered him for some time now. It was just a still midsummer night. Too still. Too quiet. He could hear his thoughts too clearly. He could see his memories more vividly than the shadows the sickness had made of them. Lying here in the dyer
’
s house, all he could think of was his mother
’
s great hall, all he could hear was Cratt
’
s despair, all he could see was the accusation in his uncle
’
s dark eyes. Accusation and triumph.

Pirse sat up abruptly, unable to stand his own dark silence any longer. The cot creaked beneath him. He heaved himself to his feet and clutched his aching head with one hand, fighting nausea.
The door to the porch was open;
a rectangle of bluish light crossed with the motionless shadows of tree branches overhead. He moved hastily outside, bare feet silent. Since his intrusion into her life, Doron often appeared at his bedside when he was restless, day or night, to offer her brusque sympathy and see to the little details of nursing him back to health. Health he didn
’
t deserve. Health that meant facing up
to
the future.

He crossed to the porch steps and sank down, dropping his head into his hands. An owl hooted somewhere in the forest to the north. He always noticed hunters. He was a hunter, much good it had done him.
How many of the castle guards died in the lawful hunt for me? I don
’
t even remember. Why didn
’
t I let them take me? I should never have left Bronle. I
’
m no good to anyone out here.

“
What are you doing awake?
”

Pirse jerked upright. Doron stood in front of him, at the bottom of the stairs.
“
How did you get there?
”

She planted her large f
ists on her hips and scowled
at him.
“
I
’
ve a right to be in my own yard.
”

“
I thought you were asleep in the house.
”

“
You were wrong. And you should be resting. To bed with you.
”
She made a shooing motion with her hands. It made Pirse feel like a hen being chased back into a chicken coop. He assumed it was that image which almost made him smile.

“
I can
’
t sleep,
”
he answered her, and made the effort to be polite, even if it was the middle of the night.
“
Does the heat disturb you, too?
”

The moonlight shone over her shoulder, leaving her face in shadow. She turned and sat
on the step
beside him, revealing a sad expression on her strong features. Staring across the yard, she seemed to forget his presence for a time.