Watt-Evans, Lawrence - Annals of the Chosen 01 (74 page)

"And
we
have
a
reserve,"
the
Leader
said.
"The
seven
of us
will
remove
this
monster
from
power—but
if
the
ler
betray
us
and
we
somehow
fail,
we
have
a
second
team."
He bowed.
"Thank
you,
Merrilin
tarak
Dolin."

And
that
settled
it.

The
party
stayed
the
night
at
the
house;
the
women
slept in
the
loft
with
the
family,
while
the
Leader,
the
Archer,
the
Swordsman,
and
the
Scholar
slept
in
the
wagon.
Room
was
found
in
an
outbuilding
for
the
oxen.

Breaker
noticed
that
the
Beauty
carefully
slept
as
far
away
from
Sezen
as
possible,
in
an
unlit
corner.
And
as
had
happened
at
the
inn
in
Winterhome,
Breaker
heard
voices
in
the
night
while
half-awake,
but
they
stopped
when
he
tried
to
listen.
He
wondered,
in
his
sleep-muddled
state,
whether
Sezen
or
the
Archer
was
troubling
the
Beauty,
or
whether
one
of
the
children
had
been
talking
while
asleep,
but
he dozed
off
again
before
he
could
think
of
anything
to
do about
it.

The
rain
had
ended
even
before
the
fire
was
out,
and
there
was
no
more
lightning,
but
during
the
night
the
water
in
the house
rose
to
a
depth
of
three
or
four
inches,
and
in
the
surrounding
gardens
to
half
a
foot,
before
finally
draining
away.
In
the
morning,
as
final
preparations
for
departure
were made,
mere
puddles
remained,
and
the
flowers,
much
the worse
for
wear,
had
emerged
again.

The
seven
Chosen
took
their
leave
at
midmorning,
after the
Swordsman,
Archer,
and
Thief
had
practiced
their
skills, and
they
set
out
west
and
south—at
least,
once
the
wagon had
been
pried
out
of
the
mud.

The
rain
held
off
until
surprisingly
late;
it
was
not
until they
were
crossing
the
first
low
ridge
and
almost
out
of
sight
of
the
lightning-struck
house
that
the
first
drops
fell.

"I
think
he
slept
late,"
the
Seer
said.
"He
tired
himself
out
yesterday."

"Or
it
may
be
that
the
rain
ler
themselves
are
getting
weary
of
this,"
the
Scholar
suggested.
"Is
that
possible?"
Breaker
asked.
"Why
not?"

"Well,
I
...
I
never
really
thought
of
ler
as
wearying
of
anything
they
do.
I
mean,
year
after
year,
the
barley
grows
just
as
it
always
has,
and
the
river
flows
over
the
same
stones
..."

"But
it
changes
from
one
day
to
the
next
as
the
grain
ripens—and
not
all
ler
are
the
same,
as
you
certainly
should
have
noticed!
What
are
our
souls,
but
the
ler
of
ourselves, and
surely
we
grow
weary
of
things?"

"I
..."
Breaker
stopped.
Obviously,
some
ler
could
grow tired
or
bored—why
not
the
ones
the
Wizard
Lord
used
to bring
the
rain?
After
all,
it
never
rained
as
much
naturally
as it
had
during
these
last
few
days.