The White Road - Lynn Flewelling [114]
Ilbana did not offer the khirnari her hand, and greeted him with a somewhat questioning look. As Ulan had told him, relations had not been warm between them. "Ulan i Sathil, welcome back to my home, though I fear you will find it empty without my husband to entertain you." Her tone was not as welcoming as her words.
"That's quite all right," Ulan assured her. "I am grateful for your hospitality."
"Of course. I've had rooms prepared in the east wing for you and your people."
The one with the windows overlooking the workshop yard, Ilar thought with a shudder, wondering if the whipping post was still there.
Suddenly Ilbana turned and looked straight at him. "And this one? It's not safe to let him walk around without you, even if he is a freedman. We had several slaves escape this past winter. You remember Khenir, I'm sure. He was one of them. The other two were new. I never knew their names, but I believe they are the ones who murdered my husband. My guards are very protective of the children and me. It wouldn't do for this veiled one to wander about unescorted, especially at night."
"I understand. I prefer to keep him by me in any event. He is quite invaluable as a servant, no doubt due to his training as a slave. He was only a boy when he was brought here from Viresse." The khirnari spoke lightly, though the kidnapping and enslavement of his clan members would have been a blood feud offense on Aurenen soil.
"Why does he still wear the veil, if he's free?" the boy demanded rudely.
"He is too frightened not to, in this land," Ulan replied calmly, smiling as if Osri had addressed him with proper respect.
"What is your name?" little Amela lisped, staring up at him now with wide brown eyes.
Ilar's mouth went dry and he nearly blurted it before Ulan spoke for him.
"He is called Nira, and he is a mute," he told the girl, then, to her mother, "Another reason to keep him by me. He's quite timid."
"Ah, I see. Just as well, I suppose. At least he has attractive eyes."
Much to Ilar's relief, she then appeared to dismiss him from her mind altogether. Like any slave, he might as well be empty air unless she had some use for him.
Ulan waited several days before broaching the subject of Ilban's workshop. He really did have business to attend to, including a shipment of ransomed slaves Yhakobin had assembled for him. Some were still at the barns--Ulan had kindly left Ilar under guard in the carriage when they went there--while others had been sold, and so had to be tracked down all over again.
The khirnari also dined with the family, and seemed intent on becoming their friend. He played with the children in the garden beyond the workshop, watching them play ball and helping to feed the precious fish in the fountain basin. Ulan had brought them clever Aurenfaie toys, too, and soon even Osri began to warm to him, even though the khirnari was "only a 'faie."
Ilar felt lightheaded the first time they walked through the archway to the courtyard that had been Ilban's. The workshop loomed at the back of it, by the tinkling wall fountain and the herb beds. It had been one of Ilar's tasks to gather and dry the herbs. A few green sprouts were pushing up through the compost--mints, chives, mugwort, and the nightshades and dragon tongue vines he'd worn gloves to handle. The whipping post was still there, too, with a hank of frayed rope dangling from the iron ring at the top.
Finally, over breakfast on the fourth day, Ulan said to Ilbana, "I do miss your husband. Would you mind if I visited his workshop?"
She looked up in surprise. "I wasn't aware he had ever taken you there."
"But he spoke of it often. I've always been curious, and since there are no experiments to interrupt--"
"Well, I suppose so." She dabbed sudden tears from her eyes with her napkin. "I've kept everything just as it was."
"Most admirable. I'm sure he would want it so, my dear."
She gestured to Ahmol, who was in attendance that morning. "Unlock the workshop for the khirnari