Penric's Travels by Lois McMaster Bujold

Author:Lois McMaster Bujold [Bujold, Lois McMaster]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Fantasy, Action & Adventure, Epic, Collections & Anthologies
ISBN: 9781982124571
Google: zdVgygEACAAJ
Amazon: 1982124571
Publisher: Baen
Published: 2020-05-05T04:00:00+00:00

V

Nikys returned reluctantly to their room. Adelis, last left dozing on his pallet, was up and pacing from wall to wall. He’d had the least to do, hiding all day in here, and the forced delay in their flight was making him tenser and tenser.

“Finally!” he said to her. “What’s happening out there? Where’s Penric? Is he still flouncing around in that bloody dress?”

“I have no idea what he thinks he’s doing. Adelis, did you ever know a General Chadro?”

Adelis halted. “Egin Chadro?”

“I didn’t catch his given name. He apparently commands the Fourteenth, here in Sosie.”

“He’s out there? In this house?”

“Yes. Is he someone who would recognize you?”

“Yes, very likely.”

“How well do you know him?”

“We served together a few years ago. Very level-headed officer, but lacking a rich or well-connected family to foster his career. If he’s been promoted to the Fourteenth, someone is finally doing something right.”

“Does he have a short temper?’

“He doesn’t suffer fools gladly. Or at all. Why do you ask?”

“He was very taken with Mira.”

Adelis grumbled something unintelligible. And grudgingly granted, “Penric was very convincing.”

“And I think Mira was very taken with him. She’s taken him off to Zihre’s bedchamber, anyway. I can’t imagine what she’s up to in there with him.” Rather, Nikys could imagine quite a lot, but most of it ended in bloodshed.

“Is he insane?” Adelis sputtered, and Nikys had no doubt which he was meant.

She contemplated the question. By the standards of anyone not a Temple sorcerer, was Penric mad? Or should she only be asking if he was mad by the standards of sorcerers? She was beginning to wonder about sorcerers in ways that had never crossed her mind when they were just a distant rumor or a rare glimpse of white robes.

“I don’t suppose General Chadro likes lads?” she tried, in a weak sort of hopefulness. “Do you know?”

“Not that I’d ever heard. I can guarantee he wouldn’t like being made a game of.”

“Oh.”

Adelis eyed her. “I think we had better pack up. We may have to run.”

She nodded shortly, feeling sick. “How long should we give it?”

“No idea. Although Chadro does not suffer fools quietly, either. If there’s an uproar, we’ll hear it.”

“All the way across the house?” Zihre’s bedchamber was in the far corner of the inner atrium.

“Maybe. Bastard’s teeth grind us all.” And never had the oath seemed more apt. “If Penric’s unmasked and arrested, we’ll have to leave him to get himself out.”

He’s never abandoned us. Not once. The cry teetered on a see-saw with What does that long lunatic expect to happen? trapping Nikys voiceless between her offense and her dread.

They fell into a quick collaboration, bundling their possessions into two parcels. Nikys stacked Penric’s scant clothing ready on the bed. Penric’s medical case she set apart, though she made sure it was all neatly packed. Adelis kept his sword out. It didn’t take long, and then they had little to do but sit side-by-side on the bed and listen to the occasional voices or footsteps crossing the gallery, more muted and infrequent as the night grew old.

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