A Time of Exile - Katharine Kerr [81]
“How did you get the coin for all of this?” Aderyn said, marveling at the ink. Each block was stamped with the pelicans of the god Wmm. “Or did the temple just give it to you?”
“The ink was a gift, truly, but I bought the rest. Lord Maroic’s son paid me handsomely for saving his new lady’s life.” Nevyn’s face turned suddenly blank. “Ado, I’ve got news of a sort for you. Come walk with me.”
When they left the tent, Dallandra hardly seemed to notice, so lost in the books was she. In the long sun of a hot spring afternoon they walked along the lake, where tiny ripples of water eased up onto clear white sand.
“Somewhat’s wrong, isn’t it?” Aderyn said.
“It is. There was fever, bad fever, in Blaeddbyr last winter. Your father and mother are both dead. So is Lord Maroic and most of the elderly and all of the babies in the village, for that matter.”
Aderyn felt his head jerk up of its own will. He wanted to weep and keen, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t move. Nevyn laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.
“It aches my heart, too, Ado. I felt it would be better to tell you myself rather than merely pass the news on through the fire.”
Aderyn nodded his agreement, wondering at himself and at the grief that seemed to have torn out his tongue. They’re not truly dead, he told himself. They’ve just gone on. They’ll be born again. You know that.
“It was a terrible thing, that fever.” Nevyn’s voice was soft and distant, as if he were talking to himself alone. “But at least it was quick. I think Lyssa might have pulled through if it weren’t that Gweran had already died. I don’t think she truly wanted to live without him.”
He nodded again, still unable to speak.
“There’s no fault or shame in tears, lad. They’ve gone on to new life, but who knows if ever you’ll see them again?”
At that, finally, he could weep, tossing his head back and sobbing aloud like one of the People. Nevyn patted him on the shoulder repeatedly until at last he fell quiet again, spent.
“I’ll miss them,” Aderyn said. “Especially Mam. Ye gods, Nevyn, I feel so lost! Except for you, I really don’t have any people but the People now, if you take my meaning.”
“I do, and you’re right enough. But that’s your Wyrd, lad. I’d never presume to guess why, but it’s your Wyrd, and you’ve taken it up well. I honor you for it.”
Since in his grief the noisy camp seemed too much to bear, Aderyn led Nevyn on a long, silent walk halfway round the lake. Having his old teacher there was a comfort more healing than any herbs. When the sun was getting low they started back, and Aderyn made an effort to wrench his mind away from his loss.
“And what do you think of my Dallandra?”
Nevyn grinned, looking suddenly much younger.
“I’m tempted to make some smart remark about your having luck beyond your deserving, to find a beautiful woman like this, but truly, her looks are the least of it, aren’t they? She’s a woman of great power, Ado, very great power indeed.”
“Of course.”
“Don’t take it lightly.” Nevyn stopped walking and fixed him with one of his icy stares. “Do you understand me, Aderyn? At the moment she’s in love with you and in love with playing at being your wife, but she’s a woman of very great power.”
“Truly, I’m aware of that every single day we’re together. And there’s another thing, too. Don’t you think I realize that she’s bound to live hundreds of years longer than I will? No matter how much I love her, I’m only an incident in her life.”
“What? What are you saying?”
“Forgive me, I forgot that you wouldn’t know. The People live for a long, long time indeed. About five hundred years, they tell me, out on the plains, though when they lived in cities, six or seven hundred was the rule.”
“Well, that’ll keep