Heirs of Prophecy - Lisa Smedman [5]
Larajin froze, unable to speak, as the wizard turned back to her with narrowed eyes. He tipped his staff until the head of it was under her chin. Its thorns pricked her skin, causing her to flinch and jerk her head up.
Recognition burned in the wizard's eyes as they met hers.
"Does your master treat you well?" he asked in a whisper. "Would you like to come and serve the Hulorn, instead? Perhaps you could feed his pets."
Larajin's mind flew back to the rats she'd encountered in the sewers under the Hulorn's Hunting Garden. Misshapen monstrosities, they'd been altered by the Hulorn's dark magic to grow hooves, wings, horns-even a tiny human head. Larajin shuddered at the memory of their sharp teeth worrying her flesh. She'd fought them off once-and didn't want to face them again. The Hulorn's wizard was subtly letting her know what her fate would be, now that he knew who she was.
"Sir, I…" was all she could manage in response. Gods, was this all she could do-cower before him, meek as a mouse? At last she found her voice. "My master is too fond of me. I am like a daughter to him. He would never allow-"
"A pity," the wizard answered, withdrawing his staff from under her chin. "You seem like a good servant-one who knows the value of being seen and not heard." His voice dropped. "Of course, there are other, more certain ways to ensure silence, aren't there?"
He turned away with a chuckle as Erevis Cale strode back to where Larajin stood. Cale gave the wizard a sharp look, and followed him with his eyes as the wizard made his way down the hall.
A moment later, the master appeared in the doorway. He appeared not to have overheard the exchange and merely nodded at the departing wizard's back.
"Erevis," he said, "please see Master Drakkar to the door."
Cale glanced up sharply at this command, then turned and walked smoothly down the hall. The moment he was out of sight, the master said, "Larajin, a word if you please."
Still shaking from her brush with the wizard, Larajin immediately launched into a defense of her actions. Now, more than ever, she needed the master's goodwill.
"Master Thamalon," she said, "I only meant to leave the tallow untended for a moment. The fire in the stove had burned down to coals. I didn't realize it would-"
The master held up a hand, demanding silence. Deep green eyes blazed down at her from under a thick crop of wavy, snow-white hair. Surprisingly, though the conversation Larajin had just overheard seemed like a matter of state, the master was casually dressed, wearing a doublet with solid sleeves and soft leather house shoes over plain white hose. He'd obviously not been expecting a visitor so late at night. He closed the door of the study, then turned and spoke in a stern voice.
"Larajin, I would ask that you refrain, in the future, from describing my affections for you in the terms you used tonight."
Braced as she was for a reprimand about the kitchen fire, Larajin was surprised by his words.
"Master, I don't-"
"You don't understand? No, I suppose not. I shall have to put it plainly, then. I am asking that you not, at any time or in any company-noble or common-describe my feelings toward you as being like that of a father for a daughter. People might draw… the wrong conclusions." Heavy eyebrows frowning, he let his eyes bore into hers. "Do you understand me now?"
Biting her tongue, Larajin nodded. She understood all too well. Since that day last winter when Habrith had revealed that Thamalon Uskevren was Larajin's father, Larajin had kept this secret close to her heart-like the obedient servant she had been raised to be. The only one she had confided in, so far, was Talbot.
She'd tried to summon up the courage to tell the master that she knew that he was her father, but whenever she'd been about to speak, the words fled from her lips. Now she could see the response they would have incurred. Not what she'd prayed for-acceptance and acknowledgement-but anger. The last thing the master wanted was to acknowledge the fact that he had sired a child on a wild