The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [80]
“It is really me you’re worried about?” Dallandra said. “Or do you just not want to lose your scout?”
“What?” Cal went white around the mouth, a sure sign that he was furious. “It’s you, of course. How could you think otherwise?”
“Well, you started this by talking about the Horsekin.”
“I started this? Started what? A stupid squabble, I suppose you mean.”
“No, I didn’t mean that!” Dallandra stopped herself from snarling at him. “I’m very tired, you know.”
“So am I. No, I mentioned scouting because I was looking for some reason to keep you from working that dweomer.” Cal got up and perched on the edge of the bed. He reached over and caught her hand in both of his. “Forgive me? I’m just so cursed worried these days. There aren’t enough of us, you know, to stop the Horsekin if they decide to come down and take the Melyn Valley.”
She hadn’t known. Dallandra felt as if her heart might freeze in her chest. She caught her breath with an audible sigh.
“We’ll have to depend upon Ridvar and other Deverry lords,” Cal went on. “That’s why I’m glad we’re meeting Prince Voran at Cengarn.”
“I’m glad you are, too,” Dallandra said. “I really should go to Cengarn with you.”
Calonderiel opened his mouth to argue, but she continued before he could speak. “But I can’t, I just can’t. Cal, I feel like such a weakling, but I’m tired, and especially tired of riding sidesaddle. I still feel too sore to ride normally.”
“I’m not in the least surprised.” He smiled at her. “I want you to rest. If some sort of problem comes up, Ebañy will be with us. He can always consult with you.”
“That’s true, isn’t it? I’ll stop berating myself, then.”
“Please do. There’s going to be a mob riding with the prince, anyway.” Cal frowned at the far wall. “Let’s see, Dar will need a royal escort, which means me and fifty men, Mirryn, Gerran, and a few men from the Red Wolf. Then there’s servants and horse handlers and, of course, Ebañy. I’ll wager it all adds up to about a hundred people and some extra horses.”
“It sounds like it. You know, Cadryc can’t feed everyone you’re leaving behind. He’ll need the pasture grass for his own animals, too.”
“Dar’s already thought of that. He’s leaving Cadryc some sheep to help feed the dun, and then Carra and Val are going to lead our people west. The herds and flocks need fresh grass, anyway. The prince and I will ride back here from Cengarn, get you and your women, and then join the others at Twenty Streams Rock.” He got up to leave, then paused. “Oh, Neb’s going to be going with us.”
“Oh, is he? Tell him I want to talk with him, will you?”
“I will. I think he’s in the great hall.”
Neb must have been close by, because he came to her chamber not long after Calonderiel had left it. He bowed to Dallandra, smiled at the baby sleeping in her cradle, then sat down on the chair when she offered it to him.
“Neb,” Dallandra said, “I hear you’re going to Cengarn.”
“I have to,” Neb said. “Prince Voran’s called me as a witness. I was present when the high priest insulted him.”
“That’s right, you were. I’d forgotten that.”
Dallandra considered his expression: perfectly polite, a bland little smile, his eyes watching her attentively but not too closely. She wondered why she was sure he was hiding something.
“Are you looking forward to the trip?” she said.
“I am. Ridvar’s chirurgeon has a book I particularly want to see again. I suppose I’ll have time to read it while the malover’s in progress.”
“No doubt. These things always seem to drag on so. Is it a book of healing lore?”
“Of a sort.” Neb frowned a little, considering. “It has a description of a plague that ravaged some of the towns down in Deverry proper during the Time of Troubles. It sounded much like the illness that killed my father.” His voice caught, then steadied. “I want to read it again to make sure.”
“Well and good, then. I take it you’ve been studying your herblore.”
“I have. Is that all right?”
“Most certainly. The more healers in the world, the better.