Shadows Return - Lynn Flewelling [42]
Alec suddenly sensed an opportunity. Seregil had often praised his ability to look young and innocent. He played to that strength now as he widened his eyes and asked, “Then you really aren’t going to kill me, Ilban? Or use me in your bed?”
“You have my word. Those are the furthest things from my mind. You know, not all Plenimarans are like those you’ve met on the battlefield. Our warriors are very fierce, but they are chosen for that, and trained to it. I’ve traveled a bit in your land and we ordinary folk are not so different from yours. You’ll come to appreciate that in time. Get some rest, and after you’ve had another meal tomorrow, if you behave, I’ll take you out of here and begin to familiarize you with your new home.”
“What will my duties be?” he asked, then quickly added, “Ilban.” This was getting very tiresome.
“You strike me as an intelligent young man. Perhaps you can assist me in my work.”
“In alchemy?”
“Yes. I believe you’ll be a very great help in time.”
Alec picked up his bowl and knelt to place it at Yhakobin’s feet. “Thank you for the food, Ilban, and your kind words. I’m less fearful now, for hearing them.”
Yhakobin cupped Alec’s chin and raised his face to look him in the eye. “That’s very nicely said, Alec. Of course, I don’t believe a word of it, and that’s your second mistake.” He hooked a finger in the smooth metal collar and gave it a playful tug. “You will not get far with this around your neck, my coy little nightrunner. Even if you slice the brands from your skin—and you wouldn’t be the first to do so.” Giving him a final firm pat on the cheek, Yhakobin rose and went out. The guards collected the chair and lantern and locked Alec in again.
He groped his way back to his pallet and lay down, heart thudding dully in his chest.
Nightrunner. Where in Bilairy’s name was the man getting his information?
CHAPTER 14
The Power of Memory
HABA.
Still lost in darkness, Seregil dreamed of gentle hands easing his pain, soothing his skin.
Haba…
Cool fingers traced the planes of his face. Warm lips covered his. In vain he fought to open his eyes. A dream…only a dream.
He thought he was in his bed at Wheel Street. He turned his cheek to that touch…
Alec. Talí…
Fingers brushed his lips.
No, Haba.
No, of course not. Alec had never called him that…
Darkness claimed him, pulling him deeper.
Haba!
“You’re still abed?” Mydri called through the tent flap. “Get up, Haba, you lazy thing. Father’s waiting for you at the assembly.”
Seregil curled deeper in his blankets, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to pretend he hadn’t heard.
“Suit yourself, brat,” his sister muttered, and strode off.
The air was already warm and filled with the drowsy buzz of cicadas. He could tell by the slant of tree shadows across the painted canvas that it was well past dawn. He threw back the blankets and sat up, knowing better than to keep his second sister waiting too long. Adzriel or Illina might shout for him, or come in and tickle him awake. Mydri was more likely to fetch him a nasty slap.
No breakfast again, he thought glumly, unless he could charm one of his aunts or cousins into giving him something behind his father’s back. Or he could steal something from one of the other camps; that was a favorite game lately, among his friends.
He pulled on his long white tunic and tried to brush out the wrinkles. One more thing for Mydri to scold him for. He stuck his tongue out at the thought and laced on his sandals, then made a hasty job of combing his long brown hair with his fingers. He took more care with the dark green sen’gai. When it was wrapped and twisted into a proper shape around his head, he paused a moment, then let the long ends fall over his left shoulder.
He pressed his fingers to his lips, cheeks going warm with the memory of last night’s stolen kiss in the shadow of the forest. I have a lover.
Grinning, he lifted the ends of the sen’gai and let them fall down his back. They weren’t really lovers yet. And even if they were, Seregil certainly wouldn’t give that fact