The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [105]
‘Well, and a good morrow to you,’ Valandario said. ‘We’ve not seen you for a good long while now.’
‘Yes, I’ve been in Bardek.’ His voice sounded steadier, even a little deeper, with a new confidence. ‘I managed to apprentice myself to one of their physicians.’
‘Excellent! How did the training go?’
‘Oh, very well indeed.’ Loddlaen smiled, again with a confidence he’d lacked before. ‘I learned a lot of valuable lore, though it mostly applies to Roundears. So, actually, Val, I’m planning on returning to Bardek before the winter. The only reason I’ve come to the Westlands is to visit my father.’ His voice suddenly reverted to its old jittery self. ‘If he’ll even see me, that is. I came here to ask you if you’d help me—if you could sound him out first, I mean.’
He was looking at her with a desperate hopefulness that touched her heart.
‘Of course,’ Valandario said. ‘I’ll get a couple of the men to help you pitch your tent. Turn your horse and mules into the herd.’
While Loddlaen was settling into the camp, Valandario contacted Nevyn to give him the news. She wanted his advice on how to approach Aderyn, as well.
‘Be direct,’ Nevyn said. ‘Tell him straight off why you’re contacting him.’
‘I will, then. My thanks, Master Nevyn I hope I’m doing the right thing by letting Loddlaen ride with us.’
‘Here, have you felt an omen against it or suchlike?’
‘Nothing so dire! I’ve just never really liked him. But he looked so pathetic when he asked for my help that I couldn’t turn him away. I suppose I’m just afraid that he’ll end up causing trouble. He always seemed to before.’
‘Well, let me know straightaway if he does.’
Since she wanted to get her thoughts in order, Valandario waited till later that day to reach Aderyn through the fire. He responded immediately.
‘I have news for you, Master Aderyn,’ she said. ‘Loddlaen’s returned from Bardek. He wants to see you, and he asked me to ask you if you wanted to see him.’
A flood of emotions rushed into her mind from his—joy, remembered anger, a tinge of fear, and a grief centred around Dallandra rather than their son. She waited, watching the flames crackle in her little campfire, until his mind returned to its usual steady calm.
‘Tell him yes,’ Aderyn said. ‘I do want to see him. No matter what he did, all those years ago, he’s still my son. Tell him that too.’
‘I shall indeed! Where’s your alar now? We’re about two days ride north of the southernmost trading ground.’
‘We’re about five days ride east of it and heading that way. Why don’t you ride straight there? We’ll join you as soon as we can.’ Aderyn’s image grinned at her. ‘And here I thought I’d never see him again!’
When Valandario relayed the conversation to Loddlaen, he wept, turning fast away to bury his face in the crook of his arm—tears of joy, she assumed.
‘My thanks, Val,’ he said.
‘You’re very welcome.’ She patted him on the shoulder.
He wiped his face on his sleeve, then turned back to give her a smile—an odd smile, in a way, nervous, forced, and brief. Yet Loddlaen had always displayed such peculiar mannerisms that she thought little of it.
‘It’ll take us two days to get down to the coast and the trading ground, right?’ Loddlaen said.
‘That’s right,’ Valandario said. ‘And your father should be there three days later. I’m sure he’s going to hurry his alar along, so it won’t be more than that.’
Loddlaen nodded and pursed his lips, looking away as if he were counting something out. ‘My thanks again,’ he said finally. ‘I’m very grateful.’ With a last nod her way, he walked off, heading for his tent, which he’d pitched, as usual, some ways away from the rest of the alar.
When they reached the trading ground, they found two Deverry merchants who’d set up shop with iron goods, grain, and a general