C1 Saga of the First King 03 - The Dame by R.A. Salvatore

Author:R.A. Salvatore [Salvatore, R.A.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi
ISBN: 9780765317902
Publisher: Tor Books
Published: 2010-04-01T05:00:00+00:00

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ou hate me,” Bransen said solemnly after a long and uncomfortable pause.

Cadayle looked up at him; across the room, Callen laughed.

“For a hero, you’re sure for saying some stupid things,” the older woman remarked. “She’s no more for hating you than you are for her, and you should be able to see that clear enough in her eyes by now.”

“Of course I don’t,” Cadayle added, and she hugged Bransen close. “But I am afraid, and I’ll miss you dearly, as I did in Vanguard those weeks you were gone from me.”

Bransen hugged her back even more tightly. “I know. But I have to do this. My name is clear, as Dame Gwydre agreed.”

“We’d be free enough in Vanguard,” said Cadayle.

“I’ve spent most of my life trying to figure out how and where I belong,” Bransen replied. “Honce is our home—Pryd is our home. Even if we choose not to live there, we should be able to return at our leisure.”

“When we left, you left a dead laird behind,” Cadayle reminded him.

“But even that is forgiven by Gwydre.”

“By Bannagran?”

“I don’t know, but I will find out.” He paused, his next admission coming hard. “I want Brother Reandu—Master Reandu, I mean—to know the truth of it, to know that I am no criminal and that his order, at the very highest level, has deigned to honor and accept me.”

“Because of your life at Chapel Pryd. Because of the way Reandu and the others treated you.”

Bransen couldn’t deny the obvious truth of Cadayle’s observations, so he just slid back from her a bit and shrugged helplessly.

“If Bannagran or Yeslnik catches and kills you, I’ll never forgive you,” Cadayle said, ending with a spreading grin.

“Then you don’t hate me?”

Callen let out a great burst of laughter.

“I know you have to do this. I only wish I could go with you,” said Cadayle.

“Not now.”

“I know.”

“Here, you hero,” said Callen and she took a couple of steps toward Bransen and tossed him his bandanna, which she had been sewing. He caught it and examined it, then slipped the now thin eye-mask on.

“The dashing Highwayman,” said Callen.

“They know who I am,” Bransen replied. “And now I need not hold a gemstone in place. There is no point to the disguise.”

“Yes there is,” said Callen.

“The common folk of Pryd know the Highwayman more than they know Bransen Garibond,” Cadayle agreed. “Your reputation is your advantage against Bannagran.”

Bransen’s step was sure-footed but much less animated as he walked out of Chapel Abelle that afternoon. He was confident that his course was correct, and that he had justice on his side, but the thought of leaving Cadayle for an extended period yet again—even though he expected to be gone from Chapel Abelle for no more than a couple of weeks—wounded him. He glanced back to see Dame Gwydre and Dawson McKeege watching him from the wall, Gwydre nodding her approval.

Cadayle was not there, though, and Bransen was glad of it, for had his beautiful wife been watching, he would have turned and rushed back to her.

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