Seventh by L. E. Bryce

Author:L. E. Bryce
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Phaze

Chapter Seven

So no one liked him.

That came as no surprise.

And yet somehow it stung coming from Eshandri.

Since when do I care what he thinks? Elantho lay awake until dawn debating his conundrum, and after only an hour's worth of sleep felt miserable and frustrated to the point of tears.

Right now, he should have been lying in bed with a physician's draught to calm his nerves, but all he wanted was escape. Grabbing a blanket, and what food and drink he could filch from the apartment he shared with Kembari, he fled to the dunes, far down the coast from the place Eshandri had found him yesterday, and sat looking out to sea. Here, in the lee of the dune, he might have slept unnoticed, except that even now he could not rest.

Of all the people he had ever known, only Omis never turned away in distaste after one of his tantrums. Only Omis stayed with him—indeed, he kept coming back even when pushed away—and thought him worth befriending.

"Why did you bother?” Elantho addressed the faint wind coming in off the sea, as though at any moment Omis might emerge from the surf and come striding toward him. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. No one liked a whiner, just as no one liked a haughty prince who treated everyone as his inferior. Even Omis, his constant companion during the solstice day games and festivities, offered a subtle admonishment. Be gentle. Smile more.

But when Elantho spied a familiar figure in blue and turquoise strolling up the beach, the last thing he felt like doing was smiling. “Why must you keep bothering me?” he groaned.

Eshandri gave an indifferent shrug as he veered from the shoreline and approached the dune. “Who says I came for you? I told you yesterday that I spend a lot of time out here."

Then be on your way. Eshandri, however, seemed to read his thoughts. “I won't be here long, I assure you. I'm going up to the headland.” With a thrust of his chin, he indicated the distant spur that closed the harbor to the west.

"That is a long walk,” said Elantho.

"Do you see that tall rock? That's the ninion that watches over Assan. One day I'll be buried by it."

Elantho privately thought little of the stone sentinels which were to be found all over the Islands. They seemed to him primitive and repulsive, ominous with their hollow eye sockets and blank faces. “Talevé are buried at sea,” he said quietly.

"Yes, I've heard of that custom.” Eshandri now stood at the foot of the dune, looking up at him. “We don't pollute the sea with our dead."

"Why are you standing here talking to me?” asked Elantho. “I thought you hated me."

"Your priest gives me a headache when he complains. Mother called me in this morning to listen to him gripe about my not going to Lachant."

Elantho waited for the inevitable accusation: you told him. None came. “Kembari is not my priest. I merely put up with him."

"Not even Harush raises his voice to me like that,” said Eshandri.

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