The Eagle & the Nightingales by Mercedes Lackey

Author:Mercedes Lackey [Lackey, Mercedes]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Fiction
ISBN: 9780671876364
Amazon: 0671876368
Publisher: Baen
Published: 1995-01-02T05:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SEVEN

Nightingale waited for T’fyrr, perched on a metal balcony on the exterior of Freehold; streetlamps gave all the light she needed to see what lay below her, although it wasn’t much cooler now than it had been this afternoon. T’fyrr had told her three nights ago that he wanted to arrive at Freehold openly tonight. She hadn’t been all that sure it was a good idea, but apparently Harperus and Tyladen thought it was best if he were actually seen coming and going now and again.

But for him to be seen by the maximum number of people, he would have to arrive afoot just after sunset, and not come flying in to the roof long after dark.

No one has tried to attack him since the first attempt, she reminded herself. No one has even dared to enter Freehold and so much as look at him crossly. We have walked the streets of Lyonarie during the day together, and no one has tried to ambush us. He believes the danger is over.

So why did she still have misgivings? Why did she expect trouble, when there had been no sign of trouble?

She sighed, and rested her chin on her hand, peering between the bars of the railing. Because I am always seeing danger, she admitted to herself, even where there might not be any danger. Isn’t that why I am waiting here, above the street, watching for him? I’m going to extremes because there could be trouble.

At least she had the night off; those who were featured performers got one night in seven to rest. Silas was playing, though, and she was looking forward to listening to him with T’fyrr.

The exterior of Freehold was festooned in several places with metal balconies, staircases and walkways, some of which connected the building with others on the block, none of which could actually be reached from the ground outside, only from special window exits above the second floor, or from the roof itself. That made them good places to watch the street below. Many of the staff did just that in their off hours, especially in the balmier months.

This was not a balmy month; the heat rising from the street below was enough to bake bread on the balcony, and Nightingale’s hair was damp with sweat. I’m going to feel the right fool if nothing happens, she thought ironically. Getting baked for nothing but a stupid feeling that things have been too quiet. Ah well, it won’t be the first time that I’ve made a fool of myself.

At least there was no one here to see her, and from below, it was very difficult to tell that there was anyone at all on this second-floor walkway. She had made it even harder, since she was sitting cross-legged below the railing and had taken care to wear one of her nondescript “Tanager” outfits.

Nothing clever about that, though. I just didn’t want to get anything nice all sweaty and dirty.

Freehold faced a much newer block of

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