Fire Dragon - Katharine Kerr [95]
“Never would I!”
“Well and good then. She be a young widow and lonely. There are some men who'd take advantage of her condition.”
“Not me, I swear it. If she'll have me, I'd like naught better than to marry her one fine day.”
“If that comes to pass, my blessing upon it. There be plenty of rooms in the house, and no reason you and your wife should lack one.”
Harl beamed, as merry as the spring sun.
Beside the common decency of the thing, Verrarc had his own reasons to offer Niffa a place in his house should she want one. Later that day he discussed the matter with his own wife, Raena, when he came home for the noon meal. Since she was recovering from a long illness, Raena lay abed most of the day, propped by pillows so she could look out the window by their bed and see the garden trees windblown in the sunlight. Verrarc brought her food himself on a wooden tray, a big bowl of stew for the pair of them and a fresh-baked loaf of bread as well. When he came in he found her sitting up and awake, her black hair spread over the pillow behind her.
“How do you fare, my love?” Verrarc said.
“Far better than the day before, truly.” She smiled at him. “I think me I might eat some of that meal you've so kindly brought me.”
“Good.” He set the tray down on the little table by the bed. “You've got far too thin.”
He sat on the edge of the bed and broke the loaf up, handing her a crust to use as a spoon. She dipped it into the thick sauce and tried a dainty bite.
“Very tempting, truly,” Raena said. “And how was your morning, my love?”
“Strange indeed. You know, I think me you're right when you say young Niffa has great powers on the witchroad.”
“So she does, but what happened? Somewhat did, if you'd call the morning strange.”
“True enough. I went to the Council House to await the others, and whilst I did stand by the door, a dragon did fly over Citadel. Then the beast did stoop and hover like a hawk to speak to Niffa.”
Raena let the crust drop from her fingers.
“A dragon?” she whispered. “What sort of beast?”
“A black one, but a greeny sort of black that glittered and changed in the sun. About the head, though, the color was coppery.”
“Oh ye gods.”
“Is it some terrible omen, do you think?”
Raena shook her head no and took the goblet of water from the tray. She drank before she spoke again. “I fear that dragon, my love.” Her face had gone as pale as death. “From what you tell me, I think me I do know her, and she does hate me.”
“What? Where would you have met such a beast?”
“When I was about my goddess's service.” She leaned back against the pillows. “I be so weary, my love. Leave me, I beg you, and let me rest.”
Verrarc did as she asked, but he wondered, off and on throughout the afternoon, if she were speaking the truth or merely suffering from a sick woman's fancies.
As she flew south, Arzosah was grumbling to herself. She had smelled Raena's scent as she circled over Citadel. As much as she wanted to kill the wretched woman and be done with her, she'd been forced to leave her, safe in some hidden house, no doubt, surrounded by her own kind. It was just like a pack of stupid human beings to run around and screech at the very sight of a dragon! At least these particular villagers hadn't started throwing spears and rocks, but they had bad manners all the same.
Arzosah had been so addled by the noise, in fact, that she'd lost her chance to tell Niffa that her brother was safe and would be home soon. The girl herself had been polite, though it was obvious she hadn't understood a word. I should have spoken in Deverrian, Arzosah thought. She so hated using the language of humankind that she'd slipped naturally into Elvish instead. Soon, once she reached Cengarn, she would have to lower herself to using Deverrian exclusively—for a while, she reminded herself, only for a while, until Rori and I leave that stinking heap of a town behind.
At moments like these, when she flew free in a balmy sky, with