The White Road - Lynn Flewelling [43]
"I'd hoped to see that Black Radly, too," said Akaien. "Kheeta's bragged up your prowess. But maybe we can find you another until you can replace it."
"Actually, the khirnari at Gedre gave me a new one," Alec told him.
"You'll have to start your shatta collection all over again, though," Kheeta pointed out. "It's too bad, too. You had a lot." Among the Aurenfaie, most of these match prizes were little figures or shapes carved from wood, bone, glazed clay beads, feathers, or coins with holes punched through, though some were made of precious stones or metals. "We'll have a match tomorrow."
"I'm in for that!" one of the young men exclaimed, and others joined in, crowding around to introduce themselves.
Seregil smiled, pleased to see Alec already making friends, as he always did, and so easily.
As soon as the meal was finished, the tables were carried away and musicians struck up dancing music.
Seregil felt the pull of it, but he was too tired to dance. Instead, he borrowed a harp and coaxed Alec into joining him for a few songs.
As the night wore on, people gradually drifted away to bed or other pastimes.
Akaien, who'd been talking swords with Micum, came over to Seregil and Alec. "I fancy a bit of fresh air, nephews," he said, with a meaningful look at Sebrahn, who was leaning back against Alec's leg.
A servant fetched their cloaks, and Akaien led the way out to a path by the lakeshore. Seregil inhaled the cold, fir-scented air gratefully, still trying to take in the fact that he was here, and walking with his uncle under the stars as he had so often, and with Alec, too.
"Adzriel told me a little before dinner," said Akaien, stopping to admire the view of the starlit islands. "Alec, she says you were given some sort of prophecy about a child at Sarikali. But this is no ordinary child."
Alec looked to Seregil, who nodded. "I trust him as I trust myself."
So Alec told him of the prophecy and the making, but not of Sebrahn's true powers. They'd agreed with Adzriel to keep that a secret. Sebrahn's appearance was enough of a hurdle.
Akaien listened in thoughtful silence, then held out his arms. "Will he come to me?"
Sebrahn allowed himself to be passed over. He sat calmly in Akaien's arms, gazing up at him, eyes shimmering in the darkness.
The older man smiled. "Such a dark birth for a child of light."
"How do you mean, Uncle?" asked Alec.
"He was made from you. And there's nothing evil in you or in 'faie blood. So how can there be evil in this little fellow?"
Only Adzriel's admonition kept Seregil from telling him the whole truth. Even he didn't think of Sebrahn as evil, but his innocent appearance was deceiving and he hated lying to his uncle. "There's more to him than meets the eye."
"I don't doubt that," Akaien said with a knowing look. "Otherwise, why would you be going to Tyrus? Would you like me to come with you? No, that's all right. I see the answer on your face, Haba."
"I'm sorry, Uncle."
Akaien looked at the three of them and smiled sadly. "Your sister hopes you've come home for good. That's not to be, is it? The Tir world has claimed you."
"I'm an exile, remember?" Seregil reminded him. "I'm not Bokthersan anymore."
Akaien passed Sebrahn back to Alec and took Seregil by both shoulders. "You will always be a Bokthersan, no matter what anyone says. Never forget that, Seregil. Perhaps--if I hadn't taken you with me all those times when you were so young--"
"No, Uncle," Seregil told him with a heartfelt smile. "You saved my life."
"That's good, then." He kept a hand on Seregil's shoulder and put the other on Alec's. "Let's walk some more before our feet freeze to the ground. Alec, you're a quiet one. Tell me more about yourself. I want to know the young man who put the light back in my nephew's eyes."
Later that night, as he lay in bed with Alec with the scents of the sea and night air still clinging to their skin, Seregil gazed around the familiar room and let out a long sigh of contentment, remembering Alec's admonishment earlier that day