The Shadow of Tyr by Glenda Larke

Author:Glenda Larke [Glenda Larke]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780730443902
Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers

His father stood there on the seawall and watched them go. Arrant could feel some of his anguish at the parting, but knew it must be for his mother, not him. He’d hoped, right up to the moment of departure, that Temellin would change his mind and ask him to stay.

It hadn’t happened.

A hollow place under his breastbone filled up with sadness. He refused to let it out. He would not show how he felt. He didn’t want anyone’s pity. He didn’t want anyone to love him because they felt sorry for him.

You’ll see him again soon, Tarran soothed. It’s just a few years.

To Arrant, that seemed a lifetime.

The figure that was Temellin grew smaller and smaller until finally he blurred into his surroundings, at one with the harbour wall and the town beyond. Ligea stood at Arrant’s side, watching. Narjemah and Foran, Arrant’s new tutor, leaned on the railing next to her.

Cord was at the stern sweep, keeping an eye on the sail. The rowers shipped their oars now that the Fisherdream was away from the hazard of the shore and the breeze had picked up.

‘Shipmaster Cord isn’t so grumpy any more,’ Arrant said to Ligea.

She took one last lingering look at Ordensa, then turned her attention to him. ‘He’s going home, with quite a lot of money in his pocket.’

‘Why didn’t Papa want us to go to Altan?’ Arrant asked.

‘Whatever gave you that idea?’ she asked lightly. ‘He was a little concerned about the sea trip, that’s all.’

That’s not the whole truth, Tarran said. Temellin doesn’t like Brand, and Brand is in Altan.

Why doesn’t he like Brand?

Because your mother does, Tarran said.

That didn’t make sense to Arrant, but he didn’t want to appear stupid so he kept quiet.

‘I’ve always wanted to go to Altan,’ Narjemah said as the Fisherdream encountered the offshore wind and picked up speed. ‘Imagine a land that’s mostly water!’

‘Only the Delta is like that,’ Foran said. ‘The central part of Altan is as dry as Kardiastan.’ Foran was an Illuser and Arrant hadn’t made up his mind whether he liked him or not yet. He didn’t smile much and he moved as though he was wearing rusted armour. His fingers were all crooked, too. Narjemah said that was because he was old.

At least Narjemah was returning with them to Tyrans. She had promised she would always look after him until he was grown up, but he had been worried that she might change her mind when she discovered they were not going to stay in Kardiastan. However, she didn’t seem to mind at all. She’d tried to explain it to him, even though he didn’t quite understand. ‘In Kardiastan I feel the horror of what I’ve lost because the other Magor look on me with pity. Their pity reminds me every day that I am no longer complete and never will be again. I don’t mind going back to Tyr. There I can sometimes forget…’

Tarran, Arrant asked, looking back at the coast, his fear

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