The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [66]
“With what?”
“He always carries his tools, or did, I should say. They’re mine now. Your mother had some silver coins, and we had those gems we’d brought as the price of your assuming Otho’s debts, and that gave us our start.”
“Very good, and very clever!” Enj nodded his approval. “So, we’ll need a couple of boats. Do you think the island will part with its coracles?”
“You’ll have to ask Marnmara about that,” Angmar said. “I’m not sure where she is.”
“I’ll look for her, Mam.” Berwynna rose and curtsied to her mother. “I need to get myself out to the kitchen, anyway. Lonna will have the next batch of bread ready for the oven by now.”
“Please do, child, and my thanks.”
Berwynna walked to the door and saw Marnmara come hurrying up the path. Berwynna stepped outside to speak with her.
“I gather Mam wants to see me,” Marnmara said. “Well, doesn’t she?”
“Uh, yes, but how did—”
“I had one of my special moments. They seem to come more often here.” Marnmara smirked at her, then hurried past to go inside.
There were times when Berwynna wondered if she hated her sister, and this was one of them. She stuck out her tongue at Marnmara’s retreating back, then stalked off to the kitchen hut to start her day’s work.
Lonna had warmed to Dougie ever since he’d started helping them in the kitchen. Berwynna was shaping loaves when he came in to rake the embers out of the stone oven. Lonna mumbled something about well water and ambled outside to leave them alone.
“Dougie,” Berwynna said. “I’m going to go with Enj when he leaves. I want to find my father.”
“Then I’d best go with you, hadn’t I?” Dougie glanced at her over his shoulder and smiled. “With the way the landscape flies around these days, I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
They shared a laugh. Berwynna slapped two loaves onto the big wooden paddle. He opened the door to let her slide them into the hot oven, then closed the door while she got two more loaves onto the paddle. Once they were in, he shut the door tight to keep in the heat. Since the oven would only hold four loaves, she punched down the rest of the dough. It would rise while waiting its turn.
They walked outside to the cooler air away from the hot stones. Berwynna wiped the sweat from her face.
“The thing is,” she said, “we’ll have to plan my escape. Uncle Mic wants you to come along, but I’ll have to sneak away.”
“I doubt if your mam would let you go.” Dougie looked suddenly troubled. “Mayhap you should just stay here. I’d hate to add to Angmar’s heartache—”
“Oh, and why would she miss me, except in the kitchen? It’s Mara this and Mara that, never me, and I’m sick of it, Dougie! If I can find my father, maybe then Mam will think of me as somewhat more than a servant.”
“Here, I’m sure she does just that already.”
“I’m not.” Berwynna felt tears gather in her throat and choked them down. “I’ll wager she doesn’t even realize I’m gone at first.”
“Oh, come now! Of course she will. And how will she feel when she realizes you’re gone? She won’t even know where you are.”
“Yes, she will. Avain will tell her.”
“You’re going to tell Avain before you go?”
“I’ll make sure she knows where I am.” Berwynna consoled herself with the thought that she wasn’t precisely lying, since Avain would doubtless be able to see her and Enj both in the water of her silver scrying basin. “And she’ll tell Mam everything.”
Dougie raised a skeptical eyebrow, but she ignored his doubts.
When the bread had finished baking, Dougie stoked up the fire again. While the oven heated in readiness for the next four loaves, Berwynna went inside the manse to ask her mother about serving the leftover beef for dinner. Angmar and Enj were sitting together at a window on the far side of the great hall. Laz and Mara were studying the book together at the table. As she passed, Laz was just pointing out a word. Berwynna lingered to listen.
“It finally dawned on me,” he was saying, “that this name, Eh-vay -an-dare-ree, must be Evandar, or Vandar, as my people call him. Dougie knows