(eng) Lynn Kurland - Nine Kingdoms 04 by A Tapestry of Spells

Author:A Tapestry of Spells [Spells, A Tapestry of]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Fourteen

Danger came in many guises.

Ruith leaned against Master Franciscus’s wagon and contemplated the truth of that. He’d suspected, as he’d closed up his house on the mountain, that putting his foot to the path he’d sensed lying before him would spell trouble. He’d thought he might have to come to grips with his beliefs about magic and its usefulness. He’d feared he might encounter a reminder or two of his past. He’d actually expected that at some point, he might find that his soul had been shattered.

He had just never expected that to happen thanks to a woman who had spent her time the evening before looking for magic in his face.

He hadn’t intended to add anything to the fire Seirceil had started for her. Sending a flicker of a flame to dance along the wood had been an afterthought of sorts, nothing grand or useful. But it had been beautiful and she had obviously seen it.

That in itself was unusual.

“And where do you think they’ve gone off to?” Seirceil asked, his face full of worry.

Franciscus shrugged, though he looked no less worried. “I’ve scoured the surrounding countryside for hours, but seen nothing of either of them.”

Ruith rubbed his hands first over his face, then together, though he wasn’t sure what sort of aid he expected from either action. He and Franciscus had been sitting at the fire the night before, discussing the virtues of the widow Fiore’s garden and just what sort of cider Franciscus could brew with a bushel of her green apples and a modest cutting of her lavender. Realization that neither Urchaid nor Connail was back had hit them both at the same moment.

Ruith had risen to go look, but Franciscus had waved him back down, saying he could easily sleep during the day and leave his draft horses to follow the road without incident or direction from him. Ruith had agreed reluctantly, but he hadn’t slept. He had put his weapons within easy reach and wondered about the missing men. There was no reason for either of them to have disappeared, unless Urchaid had irritated Connail a bit too much and Connail had stabbed him, then limped off.

But there had been no trace of either of them.

“Perhaps we should just continue on without them, then,” Seirceil said quietly. “I don’t like to speak badly of anyone—”

Franciscus smiled and put his hand briefly on Seirceil’s shoulder. “In this case, my lord, I think you could safely express a desire not to travel farther with either of them and still be considered kinder than they deserve. And aye, I agree. We’ll be off and leave them to follow—or not.”

Seirceil’s expression didn’t relax any, but he nodded just the same. He smiled briefly at Ruith, then went to gather up the various and sundry who were vexing Sarah over breakfast.

“You light the fire,” Ned cajoled.

“We’ve already eaten,” she hedged.

“But that were cold,” Ned complained. “Just a brief bit of warmth, then you can put it right out again.”

Ruith watched Sarah dither.

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