The Spirit Stone - Katharine Kerr [223]
‘No. Just common sense.’
They shared a grim smile.
‘These new people will need a Wise One of their one,’ Dallandra went on. ‘Gavantar should return to the grasslands with them. I’ll send a letter with Meranaldar.’
‘Who? I’ve forgotten—’
‘Aderyn’s last apprentice. He went to the Isles years ago, to study or so he said, but really it was out of deference to me. It’s time he came home.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Does Meranaldar want to go back?’
‘Probably not, but after what just happened, he’ll agree. He’s only tormenting himself, anyway, hanging around you without a hope.’
‘What?’ Dallandra felt herself gape like a village lackwit. ‘Are you saying he’s in love with me?’
‘You hadn’t noticed?’
‘No, I honestly hadn’t noticed.’ Her face burned with a blush. ‘Oh ye gods, the poor man! No wonder Cal—not that it excuses what he did—but—oh ye gods! I’ll do my best to avoid Meranaldar till we get back to Mandra.’
‘Good. I recommend it.’
‘I’d better go calm Cal down.’ Dallandra started to turn away, but the prince called her back.
‘One more thing,’ Daralanteriel said. ‘Tonight, after everyone’s eaten, I want to talk with Pir—do I have his name right?’
‘The horse mage?’ Dallandra said. ‘Yes, that’s it.’
‘Good. I want to see if it’s possible for him to work with our warhorses. If they learn to trust dragons, and the Horsekin mounts don’t, we’ll have another advantage over them.’ He paused for emphasis. ‘One that doesn’t depend on dwarven devices.’
‘That’s a huge favour to ask him.’
‘I know. We’ll have to offer him something huge in return. Will you talk with him when I do?’
‘Of course. But now I’d better go talk with Cal.’
When Dallandra returned to her tent, the three men on guard were more than glad to leave her alone with the banadar. She ducked inside, then created a gold dweomer light and tossed it to the roof, where it stuck near the smokehole. Calonderiel was lying on his back on their blankets, his arms still militantly crossed over his chest. With a sigh she sat down next to him.
‘Did you seriously think I’d be interested in that tedious milksop?’ she said. ‘I’m insulted!’
Calonderiel smiled, uncrossed his arms, and sat up. ‘I’ve made a fool of myself again, haven’t I?’ he said.
‘No. You merely terrified me and everyone around us.’
‘That’s what I wanted to do, now that I think of it. Dalla, do you really love me? Sometimes I don’t see how you could.’
‘Sometimes I wonder myself, but I do.’
When he held out his hand, she took it in both of hers. ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you,’ she said. ‘I’m pregnant.’
He smiled, a slow, deep grin of utter satisfaction. ‘Are you happy about it?’ he said.
‘Very, now that the war’s over.’
He let the smile fade and looked away.
‘It is over, isn’t it?’ Dallandra said. ‘Cal—’
‘It’s over for now. That’s the best I can offer you.’
‘For now. How long—’
‘I don’t know. You’re the dweomermaster, not me.’
‘Well, that’s true.’ Dallandra let go of his hand. ‘For now. That will have to do, won’t it?’
‘Unfortunately, yes.’ He leaned forward and kissed her on the mouth. ‘Forgive me for being jealous? Don’t forget, I loved you in vain for five hundred years. Sometimes I just can’t believe that the wait’s over.’
‘The wait?’
‘Oh, I knew you’d give in eventually. I just didn’t think it would take so long.’
‘You really are an arrogant bastard.’
‘Have I ever denied it?’
She started to laugh, laughed until he kissed her into silence. Yet even in his arms she felt a cold wind blowing, coming from a future that lay too clouded for her to see.
Sidro and Pir had taken to eating with the men of the Westfolk, as she’d learned to call them. She’d feared Lijik men for too many years to find it easy to be around them, despite the way that Gerran had saved her from the silver wyrm. She’d observed, as well, that Lijik men had woven a vast web of courtesies around themselves, customs that neither she nor Pir understood, while the Westfolk treated such things lightly and with laughter. Vandar’s spawn, she would think. They called them evil Vandar’s spawn, and