The Shadow Isle - Katharine Kerr [92]
“There you are!” Salamander said. “I was just wondering if you were ill or suchlike.”
“If I were, I wouldn’t go to Raddyn,” Neb said. “I feel sorry for anyone who comes under his knife.”
Salamander blinked at him.
“Any news from Dallandra?” Neb said. “About Haen Marn?”
“None,” Salamander said. “The problem is that it’s an island. Scrying it out will therefore be impossible. All we can do now is hope it returned, and if it didn’t, then, well, we’ll just have to wait and see.”
Riding the river down to Lin Serr proved to be both more tedious and more dangerous than Berwynna had been expecting. During that first day, the river ran slowly between broad banks, thick with forests and ferns. In places the shallow water became nearly solid with purplish-green water reeds. The little coracles bobbed peacefully along at the river’s whim. Dougie and Enj used their paddles mostly to steer clear of floating tree branches and other debris. The slow water allowed the spring crop of mosquitoes and blackflies to swarm around the boats. Berwynna took off her apron and flapped it to keep them away from her and Dougie both. By midafternoon, her arms ached.
Toward sunset Enj yelled over from his coracle that it was time to go ashore. When they saw a sandy beach at a bend in the river, Enj paddled hard across the current and headed for it. Dougie followed his lead, and the river reluctantly let the men run the coracles up onto the land. Dougie helped Berwynna out and grinned at her.
“My rosy-cheeked lass!” he said.
“That’s sunburn,” she snapped. “I’m also bug-bitten and damp.”
Another difficulty came storming up to them in the person of Mic, who planted himself in front of Berwynna, set his hands on hips, and scowled.
“I know what you’re going to say,” Berwynna said in Dwarvish. “I never should have come along, Mother will worry, and I’ll only be a burden and nuisance.”
“I was going to say that you’ll be putting yourself in danger,” Mic said, “which is more to the point than calling you a nuisance. What in the name of Gonn’s Hammer did you think you were doing?”
“Getting away from Haen Marn. Mara can clean the stinking fish and sweat over the bread oven from now on. I’m sick and tired of being her servant, thank you very much!”
“Ah.” Mic suddenly grinned. “Well, good for you, lass! I have to admit that I’m glad to see you finally stand up for yourself.”
“You are? I always knew you were my favorite uncle for a reason. ”
Mic laughed. “A true compliment,” he said, “and you can’t blame an uncle for worrying about his favorite niece.”
“Well, that’s true. But I also do want to find my father, and Enj is going to look for him.”
“Reason enough, I suppose. But what about your mother?”
“Avain will see us in her basin. She’ll keep an eye on all of us. Did you think she wouldn’t?”
“No, you’re right.” Mic paused to study her face. “You’d best put some butter or lard on that sunburn. Did we bring any?”
“I did, and a good thing too.”
Berwynna helped Enj unpack the food for their meal. While he carried it over, she hurriedly checked the precious dweomer book and found it safe and dry. Looking at it lying among the mundane supplies made her profoundly uneasy. I shouldn’t have stolen it, she thought, but it’s too late to take it back now.
Their dinner of flatbread and jerky did nothing to soothe Berwynna’s aches and pains, nor did sleeping on hard ground. She reminded herself that she’d been determined to sneak away for this adventure and had, therefore, only herself to blame. If the travails of travel were proving ill for her, though, they were far harder on Otho. That morning she had to help the old man get free of his tangled blanket and sit up.
“Otho,” she said, “can you truly do this?”
“Hah!” Otho snorted like an angry horse. “And what choice do I have now, eh? I was stupid enough to start the journey, and now I’ll have to finish it. Here, lass, if you’ll lend me your shoulder