The Sons of Hull (27 page)

She started to fidget. “But how is that possible? There was no one there except Grens and myself. No one to see—” Her voice drifted off.

Telenar began to soften. “Kynell sees everything, child. No one escapes his notice. Not even you.”

It was meant as a comfort, but Verial spat and kicked at the fire. “Kynell! You’re all obsessed with him! If he’s so powerful, why does Obsidian know your every move? Why did he allow his Advocate to be eaten alive by a swamp creature? And his king to be Amarian’s pawn?”

Telenar was about to remind her that Obsidian knew their every move because there was a spy in their midst and that the only reason Vancien was attacked was because he was rescuing her, but N’vonne interceded.

“Shhh, child. Be careful what you say.”

Child? Why did they keep calling her child? She was older than the Ages themselves! Beside herself, she stormed out the door of the hut, only to run into an old Cylini man who was just about to enter. With a shrill, “Out of my way!” she pushed him aside and disappeared into the night.

The visitor looked at them uncertainly, but neither Telenar nor N’vonne felt any compulsion to go after her. Telenar nodded at him to come in.

“Far’an lur, ‘eloi.”

“I thought you didn’t speak Cylinic.”

“I said I was rusty.” Then to the newcomer. “Pratsa twy am tehn nequrra, ‘eloi. Preto, ga’an.” He indicated the recently vacated seat next to the fire. The old man returned the thanks, and sat. He smelled of wet leather and mold, but his long beard was combed and his teeth clean.

N’vonne could understand nothing of the halting conversation that followed, except that Telenar appeared to be complimenting the Cylini on their living arrangements and discussing recent events; the names Relgaré, Hull, and even Amarian surfaced several times. When they were finished, the man smiled graciously at N’vonne, bowed to Telenar, and left.

“What did he say?”

“He said that Vancien won’t be able to travel for several days and even then Nagab won’t be able to carry him. But he is going to get together a few warriors to escort us through the marsh to the west when we’re ready. He also says that he likes your hair and that if he didn’t have a wife, he would make you stay here.”

“Hm. How nice.” She could not decide if she was put off or flattered by the compliment, but considering all that these people had done for them, she decided not to take offense. “What did you tell him about Relgaré and Amarian?”

Telenar moved over next to her, pleased that Verial’s sudden departure had finally given them some time to be alone. “Nothing he did not know already. His scouts have told them that the Keroulian army is now controlled by Commander Hull, who rides a dragon. That means that Verial was right, and Relgaré is dead.”

Her brow furrowed. “A dragon? How in Rhyvelad did he find a dragon?” She looked at the door. “And what are we going to do about Verial?”

Verial’s plight was the furthest thing from Telanar’s mind at the moment, but she was right. Something would have to be done. She was probably in with Vancien right now, casting her spell. The thought irritated him so much that he forgot about the romantic mood he was had been attempting to create.

But N’vonne did not. Leaning into his shoulder, she gazed at the fire as she spoke. “Maybe she’ll just leave and not come back. Would that be so bad? I feel sorry for that Gair fellow she keeps mentioning, but Kynell will take good care of him. And if she doesn’t go on her own accord, maybe we could leave her with the Cylini. That old man might like her hair better than mine.”

Telenar chuckled low in his throat. The deep sound made her even more relaxed. “I doubt that, my love. Besides, she found us once and she could find us again. And Vancien wouldn’t understand. As you said before, it’s better to keep an eye on them both than to alienate Vancien because of her.”

She looked up at him. “I said that? How very clever of me.”

Her face was very close to his; he could smell her breath, which, despite all they had been through, still a had a touch of mint. He had to fight hard to keep the jovial mood. This was neither the time nor the setting for anything more serious. But he couldn’t keep from stroking her hair.

“Of course it was clever, dear one.” He hesitated, painfully aware of how rare moments like this were. “You’re very precious to me, N’vonne. You know that.”

She nodded and began to stare into the fire. “I know.”

But he tilted her head upward, marveling at what he was about to say. “I mean, when all of this is over, I don’t want you to leave me.”

She sat up slowly, watching him. He couldn’t tell if it was a good look or not, but he pressed forward anyway. “I mean, I don’t want you to ever
leave me. I want you to be my wife.”

“You’re asking me to marry you?”

“When this is over, yes.”

So this was it. She had thought about this moment often enough, but now she had difficulty believing it was finally happening. She looked harder at him, not wanting to make him wait but wanting to be sure of her decision. Hull was still a part of her, but he would never come back—not for her, at any rate. And Telenar was here, in front of her, alive. She loved him like a brother. No, more than a brother. Much more. In truth, she had known how she should respond for a long time now. When all of this was over, she still wanted to be able to spend every day with him.

“Yes, Telenar. I would love to marry you.”

His gray eyes lit up. “Really? You would? Then can I. . .” he flushed, remembering his first awkward attempt. .” . .may I kiss you?”

She nodded. His second kiss, though still unpracticed, was encouraging. The third was better still. He was just about to try a fourth time when the door banged open and Verial entered. She didn’t say a word, but crept into the corner to sleep. Her presence was nevertheless an effective safeguard against further attempts. They sat there for a moment, smiling foolishly. Then Telenar, needing to do something with his elation, commented that it was time to check on Vancien. N’vonnne decided to stay with Verial, so he left her to her hopefully pleasant thoughts.

Stepping out into the cool night air, Telenar caught the elbow of the first person he saw. “Uche go brunert ‘nthro?”

The young lady stared at him for a moment, then pointed to the next hut over.

“Pratsa twy, ‘elai.” He let her go, then moved quietly to the next door and opened it a crack. “Vance? You awake?”

An inarticulate noise assured him that his student was somewhat conscious. He stepped inside and saw Vancien laid out on fur-covered table, his shoulder thickly bandaged and his arm in a splint. Although that was the worst of his wounds, his left leg was also gashed and his face was still swollen from his underwater beating. Telenar’s heart ached for him. What right had he to propose to N’vonne when the Advocate was suffering the next door down?

Vancien read his tutor’s guilty expression and tried to smile. “Don’t worry, Telenar,” he croaked. “I deserved it.”

The comment brought Telenar back to his old self. “Of course you did. What right did you have to go plunging around after her? You may not get killed, but you can do a lot of damage in the meantime.”

“She came by, you know.”

Telenar pulled up a stool and sat. “I figured. Did you talk?”

Vancien shook his head, then winced at the effort. “No. She thought I was asleep. So I just kept quiet and let her talk.”

“What did she say?”

Vancien thought about keeping some of her comments in reserve, but decided against it. She may be a creature of Kynell, but Telenar was his mentor and close friend; the man’s loyalty to the Prysm was complete. “She sounded out of sorts, as if she had just come from a fight. What did you say to her?”

Telenar looked away, recalling his words. “I was too hard on her. Let’s leave it at that. Did she mention the Ages?”

“Yes, quite a bit. But she was ranting as if she’d never read them, swearing that Kynell had no business to intrude on her life, cursing you, and calling the wrath of Obsidian down on everybody. If she’s trying to seduce me, she’s doing a poor job of it.”

Telenar swallowed his sarcastic reply. “She thought you were asleep. But I don’t think she knows what she’s trying to do. One minute she’s crying over Gair and asking about Kynell, the next she’s acting cool or invoking Zyreio’s name. Obsidian still has a strong hold on her, Vance. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t, Telenar. I promise. And I’m sorry for ignoring your warnings. Very sorry. I should never have. . .” his voice trailed off.

Telenar could tell he was remembering that kiss by the Ergana. “It’s done, Vance. We will start anew with her. Cautiously.”

“But with love.”

The admission was more difficult than Telenar expected. It was a long moment before he spoke. “Cautious,
very
cautious, non-romantic, guided-by-Kynell sort of love, yes. I won’t lie: in my mind, she’s just a tool of the enemy. But,” He paused, staring at the floor. “it might be possible to love our enemies.”

Vancien nodded. Telenar turned to leave, then stopped at the door.

“I thought you should know that I just asked N’vonne to be my wife. And she said yes.”

Vancien grinned as widely as his bruised face allowed. “Congratulations, my friend! May Kynell bless you!”

Telenar let himself a smile, as well. “Pretty amazing, isn’t it? I mean, she’s so—well, anyway.”

“You two are a good match. I’ve already said so. Give her a hug for me.” He paused, then wagged one of his good fingers at him. “But behave yourself.”

“Of course! I wouldn’t do anything inappropriate. The Ages say with no uncertainty that a man and a woman are to—”

Vancien dismissed his objections as well as he could. “I know, Telenar. I was just teasing. Now I think I’m going to get some more sleep. But could you keep Verial away for a bit? She’s not exactly restful.”

“Absolutely.”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Amarian’s distaste for his new army was obvious. After the victory at the bridge and the death of their king, the Keroulian troops had become fidgety. Many a high-ranking soldier had come to him with petitions from their battalion to return to the capital. The king, they insisted, deserved a proper burial attended by his wife and children. Now the generals were here again with the same monotonous demands.

“I’m sorry, General, what did you say?”

Tengar, the senior officer of the delegation, impatiently repeated his statement. “King Relgaren has already been crowned in Lascombe. But the troops won’t budge until prince Farlone arrives. And even then, they have no enthusiasm for chasing the Cylini into the marshes. If you won’t let them return home, then they at least want to see their king and bury him in a proper manner.”

Amarian tried to adopt a conciliatory tone. “I told you, my men could not recover his body.” This was not entirely true. The Sentries had done their job a little too well; no one who had seen Relgaré’s corpse would think that it was the work of the Cylini. “It’s those barbarians; they’ve butchered your king and burned his remains.”

Tengar shook his head. “Some of the troops are saying the barbarians are not in the marshes, but fighting beside us. And what should I tell them? That the Sentries and fennels they’ve been raised to hate are suddenly allies? That they’re trustworthy? You’ve seen the fights between your troops and ours, Commander Hull; one of your Sentries tore a man in half last week. How am I supposed to convince my men that the Cylini, not your hordes, are the enemy?”

The other officers nodded their agreement. Amarian’s patience began to wear thin. He rose, planted his hands on the camp desk, and looked sternly at his insubordinates. “Do you think I’ve brought my army halfway across Rhyvelad to destroy my own allies? Do you think I don’t have a stake in annihilating the Cylini? They sit there, plotting their raids against civilization in that infested swamp of theirs. They’re a knife lodged against our back and now they’ve murdered your king. If we don’t wipe them out now, they’ll think us weak, that we’re loyal to only one man instead of to a kingdom, to a civilization. I know that our men do not see eye to eye, and that Sentries can get out of hand—trust me, those who have acted inappropriately have been punished. Hate them all you want, but we have to finish this. Once the Cylini have been wiped out, once every last woman and child of them has been shown what real civilization, real strength looks like, they’ll either submit or die.”

Tengar shifted uncomfortably. “You’re talking genocide.”

“I’m talking preservation. I’m talking about a life free of border wars and niggling little conflicts. You know as well as I do, general, that any Cylini man, woman, or child left alive will only stir up trouble for our children and grandchildren. The only way is to uproot them completely. To do that, we must fight together.”

One of the younger officers cleared his throat. “The king never—”

“The king is dead. Obviously his policies weren’t thorough enough. Gentlemen, we do not have a choice here. If we turn tail and go home, then all of our battles have been for naught. Please, consider other options. You may go.”

Tengar grimaced at being dismissed so lightly. He turned to the officers behind him. “Gentlemen, please allow me a word with the commander.”