Reichert, Mickey - Renshai 03 by Reichert Mickey

Author:Reichert, Mickey [Reichert, Mickey]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

300

Mickey Zucker Reichert

Child of Thunder

301

ately in need of change, there were times when she had enjoyed feeling safe herself. In Harrsha's arms, she could say anything, tell any secret, knowing he shared her deepest concerns; and he could do the same.

Khitajrah met the sentry's dark eyes, and the emotion disappeared in an instant. A single glance told her that she shared nothing with this Be"arnide and never could. Yet just the fact that she had considered the possibility made her realize what she had long resisted. Somewhere in the world lived another man, perhaps more than one, who could replace what she had lost.

Oblivious to Khitajrah's thoughts, the sentry released her and stepped aside. "Horse stays. Pack stays. Weapons?" He looked at her, awaiting a response.

"None." Khitajrah still carried a knife, but most people did so routinely. If they wanted it, too, she felt certain they would ask. She had secured Arduwyn's pack to the horse, carrying nothing that did not fit easily into a pocket.

"You'll get everything back when your audience is finished. Come with me."

Khitajrah walked through the gates, and the sentry pulled them closed behind her. Seeing his companion had taken charge of the horse, he replaced the latches and locks. Then he gestured her into the courtyard.

Khitajrah stared at the tended flower gardens and the intricate statues and benches interspersed between them. Women in gowns and men dressed in satiny garments perched regally on benches while children chased one another along the winding pathways. Here, too, Khitajrah noticed bears as the predominant theme of the statues. Before she could stare too long, the sentry led her across the sturdy planking that bridged the moat and through great iron doors decorated with a crest that included a rearing bear.

It took a moment for Khitajrah's eyes to adjust to the sudden absence of the sun, though lines of torches lit the corridors almost as brightly. Brackets carved into animal shapes held the burning torches, tan and blue brocade dangling from their undersides. The guard's armor clinked as he walked, and the decorative bands swayed in the breeze of his passage. As she became less concerned with light, Khitajrah noticed old carvings scrawled over part of the wall. Stories unfolded on what seemed like leagues of corridor, interrupted by cross-corridors and doors. The portion she saw

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