Days of Air and Darkness - Katharine Kerr [183]
Dallandra laughed, turning the girl red with embarrassment.
“It’s not that sort of thing between us. Truly.”
And yet, she had to admit that it was good to see him when, late that evening, he came to find her. She’d eaten alone, avoiding the feast in the great hall, then brought out one of Jill’s books to study by dweomer light. Although Dallandra had never been the studious sort of dweomerworker before, ever since Jill’s death she’d taken to poring over the books her friend had left behind. She was just considering an interesting passage about astral currents when she heard someone opening the door. She smiled, knowing before she looked up that it would be him.
“You’re turning into a hermit like Jill,” Rhodry said.
“The dweomer takes you that way, sooner or later. It gladdens my heart to see you safe and well, though.”
“My thanks, and the same to you.”
“Have you seen Jahdo? He’s talked of naught else but your homecoming for days. And the dragon’s, of course.”
“Has he now? Well, he sat with me most of the evening. I sent him off to bed a while ago. He can keep Arzosah company tonight.”
“Oh?” She raised a teasing eyebrow. “And why’s that?”
He smiled, then strode over, putting his hands on her shoulders and bending down to kiss her. She rose, took a second kiss, and found herself slipping into his arms as easily as if he’d never left the dun. Later—much later—she would wonder at herself, that she could spend months and even years away from Rhodry Maelwaedd with never a thought about him, only to take him into her bed the moment he asked.
After that first night home, Rhodry and Arzosah made a camp outside Cengarn, to spare the dun’s horses the sight of her and to spare Dallandra scandal. They found a cozy spot in a sheltered hollow near the base of the north cliff. Jahdo helped him build a proper fire pit with flat stones, and the town guard donated a tent from its stores. Rhodry took to spending much of His time there in the dragon’s company. Every afternoon, some while before sunset, she would fly off to hunt deer, grumbling, usually, because he wouldn’t allow her to steal a cow or two from the local farmers. Once she did bring back a bear, stinking of grease, who’d waited a little too long to retreat to his winter cave. Rhodry made her take that kill some distance away before she ate.
On an afternoon warm with false summer, Arzosah had just flown off, leaving Rhodry to sit alone in the sun, when he saw a man striding toward him across the meadow. He rose, watching while Evandar came strolling up, smiling as if the world couldn’t please him more.
“I’ve just had a word with Dalla,” Evandar announced. “She tells me that Carra will have the baby soon.”
“That concerns you?”
“It does, most completely so.” He let the smile fade. “As do you, of course.”
“I’m well enough.”
“Are you? Truly?”
“Truly.”
Evandar considered, studying his face for so long that Rhodry finally turned and walked a few steps away.
“Oh, here,” Evandar said. “I don’t mean to distress you.”
“You don’t.”
“Indeed?”
All at once, Evandar stood facing him again. Cengarn was gone. They stood on a grassy island in a sea of white mist. Nearby grew a clump of white birches, their slender branches nodding, their leaves all yellow with autumn. On the other side of the trees there seemed to be a stone well—Rhodry couldn’t see it clearly through the opalescent haze.
“Evandar, take me back.”
“Not just yet. It’s pleasant here. Come sit down.”
Before Rhodry could say a word, he found himself doing just that, sitting beside Evandar in the tall grass, as soft and green as spring growth. The seeming-elf lounged back on one elbow, his yellow hair gleaming in a dim sunlight that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere.
“The town might need me,” Rhodry said. “And Carra and the child, too, to defend them, like.”
The mist, the island, the birches were all gone. They sat on the stubbly grass in front of Rhodry’s tent near Cengarn. The sun was setting.
“My thanks,” Rhodry said somewhat