The White Road - Lynn Flewelling [41]
Seregil waved Micum over. "And this, Uncle, is my oldest friend in Skala, Micum Cavish."
He watched in amusement as the two men sized each other up. They were of a height, but where Micum was heavy-boned and ruddy, Akaien was wiry and fair-skinned, his hair long and dark brown like Seregil's. All the same, there was a similarity about them that Seregil hadn't really put together until now: at once highly honorable but not above stretching the laws for a good cause--or when it suited them.
"Well met, Micum Cavish," Akaien said in Skalan as he clasped hands with him. "Adzriel speaks warmly of you. You have my thanks for your family's hospitality to my wayward nephew. I've felt easier in my mind since I heard about you. I hope he hasn't been too much trouble."
"We've gotten into our share of scrapes over the years, but we got each other back out, too," Micum replied in Aurenfaie.
Saaban released Adzriel at last and greeted Micum. "Welcome, Micum Cavish."
"And you, sir."
"I hope they have a proper feast prepared," Adzriel said with a laugh, putting an arm around Alec's waist and pulling Seregil by the hand. "The one who was lost is with us again, and brings his talimenios and--this little one. Now, come along out of the cold!"
The crowd parted, but many people reached out to pat Seregil on the back and shoulders as he passed, and their warm greeting loosened the knot of tension in his chest. All the same he kept close to Alec and the rhekaro, who was looking back over Alec's shoulder now, those black pupils still a bit wider than Seregil liked to see. He was aware of Micum at his back, too, and grateful for his friend's presence.
Inside the gates, the gardens were buried in snow and the mossy old fountain silent for the winter, but the great double doors were open wide, spilling out firelight like a carpet for them. As he passed under the lintel carved with Aura's crescents, he was startled to find both of his estranged sisters waiting for him by the hearth.
Shalar, the older one, favored their father, right down to the lines of disapproval around her mouth. She wasn't smiling, but Illina, who could have been his twin, came forward and took his hands in hers. "Welcome home, brother." And she kissed him on both cheeks.
Seregil hugged her close, swallowing around the new lump in his throat. "Thank you, sister."
Shalar was somewhat warmer with Alec, taking his hand and admiring Sebrahn's strange beauty. "What unusual eyes. But bare feet in winter?" she chided as she chafed the rhekaro's feet between her hands. "Why, he's like ice!"
"He doesn't like to wear shoes. And he doesn't feel the cold," Alec explained, and got a look of disapproval equal to any he'd seen from Mydri.
Turning away, he saw that Akaien i Solun had his arm around Seregil now, laughing about something with Kheeta. Seregil had always been closemouthed about his past, especially in the early days. Since they'd become talimenios, he'd talked more, but not a lot. It was just his nature, and Alec had long since given up wishing he were different. Still, meeting this uncle at last, and witnessing the deep bond of affection between them, he wondered how Seregil could have put him out of his mind for so long.
After seemingly endless introductions to kin and friends, Seregil led Alec through a warren of corridors to his old room, which Mydri had assured him was still his to use. It took a moment to remember the way, but he found it at last. Setting his pack down by the door, he looked around, trying to see it through Alec's eyes. The bed was the same, with its golden oak headboard carved with pinecones and rabbits, and neatly made up with the colorful silk counterpane, a bit faded now and sweet with the scent of lavender and cedar. The same blue pitcher and basin were on the washstand, below the mirror he'd cracked playing a forbidden game of ball here with Kheeta one rainy day.
Outgrown toys were gone from the top of the clothes chest and windowsills, but his books and scrolls were still on their shelves, and the sword rack stood