Modesitt, L.E - Saga of Recluce 05 - The Death of Chaos by Modesitt L.E

Author:Modesitt, L.E [Modesitt, L.E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

LXI

Krystal’s arm was better in the morning—sore, but with no signs of chaos—and I bandaged it loosely before she rode back to Kyphrien to report to Kasee. Then I went to work on Durrik’s chest, but not for long.

Wegel showed up—a day earlier than I’d thought. Faslik brought him, and the young man actually had two saws, one a good crosscut blade, a smoothing blade, and chisels, although the largest chisel was really too big, more suited to working for a shipwright than a crafter. I didn’t say anything about that, and he could probably trade it for something smaller in time.

“You sure about this, Master Lerris?” Faslik asked for the fourth time as he sat on his wagon seat, ready to leave. “He’s a good lad.”

Wegel stood by the walk to the shop, looking down.

“I’m sure. He gets his lodging, his food, and a copper an eight-day for now—and half of the proceeds after the wood costs of anything he sells.”

“How long before he can be more than an apprentice?”

I had to shrug. “I can’t say. Two, three years if he’s good.” It might be sooner than that, but I’d decided it was better to promise less. “It’s not just talent. Talent he has.”

Wegel smiled shyly at that.

Faslik nodded. “He’s a good lad.” Then he lifted the reins and drove off, his bearded face looking back with every other step of his horses, and his wagon creaking all the way out to the road.

Wegel swallowed, and I patted his shoulder.

“Let’s get you settled.” I led him to the long bunk room at the end of the stable. I’d surveyed the stable and guard area earlier, and had figured out how to build a small space for Wegel. I’d help a bit, but he was going to do most of the work. In the meantime, he’d just have to take one of the bunks. It was better than I’d had when I’d started with Destrin. There were six bunks anyway, and Krystal almost never brought more than four guards, but, as in everything, I’d overdone the design—Krystal was pointing that out to me more and more. I wondered why it bothered her so much. She’d paid for the materials and a lot of the work I couldn’t do. Sometimes, as with Wegel, it worked out.

He looked around the space with the small table, the stools—quick, crude efforts on my part—and the three sets of bunks.

“You want an upper one or a lower one? The upper ones are a bit warmer, which might be better now. We’ll have you in your own cubby before the weather gets too hot.” I thought about his foot and added, “Some people worry about falling out of the top ones, though, and some like it colder when they sleep. You ought to take one of the end ones—either the top one or the bottom. That way, when the commander’s guards are here—”

“C-c-c-c-com…?”

“I told you. When Krystal—she’s my consort, except she’s really more important than I am, so perhaps I’m her consort—is here, her personal guards sleep here.

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