Exile's Song by Marion Zimmer Bradley

Author:Marion Zimmer Bradley [Bradley, Marion Zimmer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, General, adventure, Fantasy, Science Fiction, Darkover (Imaginary Place), Life on Other Planets, Usernet, C429, Kat, Extratorrents
ISBN: 0886777348
Publisher: DAW
Published: 1996-01-02T08:00:00+00:00

Margaret didn’t remember falling asleep after the tea, but she did, and woke again, refreshed and untroubled. It was daylight now, and by the slant of the sun, afternoon. She felt fretful, restless to get up, and too weak to do it.

Rafaella was sitting on a chair beside the bed. She looked tired, but she smiled at Margaret. “Well, lazy bones, how are you?”

“I think I am hungry.”

“Domna Istvana said you would be. Oh, Marguerida! You gave me such a scare. I have never felt so helpless in my life.” The brows of the Renunciate drew together, making deep lines between them, and the corners of her mouth turned down.

“Me either,” Margaret answered. “But I am fine now. Stop frowning! It makes you look like a dried fruit, and Rafe …” She stopped abruptly, and felt her cheeks flame with embarrassment.

Rafaella’s face mirrored her own, red with blush. “What do you know about him?”

“I didn’t mean to pry, really. It’s just that a couple of times I sort of heard you thinking about him, and since he is my uncle, I knew who you were thinking about.”

“Your uncle! Well, of course. Why didn’t I make the connection?” She almost jumped out of the chair and bustled away from the bed, muttering to herself almost happily. When she came back, she had a bowl of soup and a slice of bread on a tray. “I try not to think about him much, but it doesn’t seem like I do a very good job of it.” She put the tray across Margaret’s lap, then started feeding her like a baby. The inclination to protest was drowned in the first mouthful, and Margaret decided she wasn’t up to feeding herself yet. “It doesn’t matter, for likely nothing will come of it.”

Margaret swallowed her mouthful. “Why not? If you like him and he likes you—what’s the problem? You could be freemates, couldn’t you?”

“I don’t know. We haven’t gotten that far yet,” Rafaella said doubtfully.

The door of the bedroom opened, and they both started, and looked at one another, as if they had been interrupted at something unseemly. Rafaella’s expression was so peculiar that Margaret almost choked on her soup, holding in her laughter. Ouch! Her ribs were very sore, and laughing hurt.

Istvana Ridenow approached the bed, her face serene and almost rested. She smiled and bent over Margaret from the other side of the bed, peering at her eyes, and brushing her forehead with a swift stroke. “So, chiya, you are awake again. How do you feel?”

“Pretty well, everything considered. I would like a bath as soon as possible! I know I would feel much better clean!”

“We’ll see,” the leronis answered. When she saw Margaret’s scowl, she added, “Perhaps late this afternoon. I don’t want to have you having a relapse from trying to do too much too soon. You have been a lot sicker than you can imagine.”

“Maybe. It is just that I have never been very good at doing nothing. And I think I have slept enough to stay awake for weeks now.

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