Part 20 (2/2)

Sulein clapped his hands between them. ”Hush this. There must be quiet. An atmosphere of peace and serenity. No quarreling. Now, boy. Sit on the stool as I told you.”

Dain seated himself on the cus.h.i.+oned stool next to the chevard's bed. Although the fires made the room very warm, the chevard was s.h.i.+vering beneath the coverlet and fur robe. His head turned restlessly on the pillow, but his eyes did not open.

”And you, Sir Roye,” Sulein said in reproof. ”Why do you fear this boy so? The eldin are peaceable creatures. They understand the natural flow of life forces. They are not evil.”

Sir Roye grunted, his fear and worry swirling through him so strongly Dain could sense them. Ignoring the men, Dain leaned toward the chevard, who was turning his head from side to side in pain, mumbling words Dain could not understand. Grief rose in Dain anew. He missed Thia and Jorb with all his heart.

He did not want to be in the room of a dying man. He did not want to worry about the chevard, or even to like him. He had been raised to distrust men and their ways. Men were duplicitous, superst.i.tious, and dangerous, like Prince Gavril. But Lord Odfrey seemed different. He was a fair man, an honest man. It was not right that the Bnen arrows should kill him too.

Dain reached out and curled his fingers lightly around the chevard's hand. Its flesh was intensely hot and dry.

Behind Dain, Sir Roye strode forward. ”Take your-” ”Hush,” Sulein said. ”Be still. This is what I hoped for.” Dain glanced over his shoulder at the two men. Sulein was standing in Sir Roye's path, and the knight's face was contorted in a grimace of worry and anger. Neither came any closer.

Dain relaxed. He already knew the answer he'd sought. The chevard's blood burned with this terrible fever. His pain was strong. But so was his body strong. He was not yet ready to die.

”Lord,” Dain said in his quiet, awkward Mandrian, ”I have come to speak with you about your promise.

Have you forgotten it? Have you forgotten me?” ”Be quiet, boy!” Sir Roye ordered.

Startled, Dain glanced up, but despite Sir Roye's fearsome scowl, Sulein was beaming and gesturing for Dain to continue. ”Do not stop,” Sulein said. ”Talk to him. It will help center his mind and bring him from his fever. Tell him anything you wish.”

Dain drew in a wary breath, trusting the outraged Sir Roye more than he trusted the sorcerel. Yet clearly Sulein understood what he was doing. Returning his attention to the chevard, Dain was surprised to see the man's dark eyes open and staring at him.

”Hilard?” Lord Odfrey said in a shaky voice.

”I am not Hilard your son,” Dain said evenly, ignoring Sir Roye's muted growl of protest. ”I am the eldin boy who rode with you when you fought the dwarves of the Dark Forest. Do you remember the battle, lord?”

The chevard frowned, looking lost and witless. Pain s.h.i.+mmered in the liquid depths of his dark eyes.

Beneath the thick bandage swathing half his face, his skin was pasty white. ”Hilard,” he said. His fingers s.h.i.+fted in Dain's grip. ”You have come.”

”Was your son part eldin, as am I?” Dain asked. ”Is that why you are kind to us?”

”No,” Lord Odfrey said. His voice was a thin whisper. ”I want Hilard.”

”He is dead,” Dain replied. ”You know that, lord.”

Lord Odfrey gripped Dain's fingers with momentary strength. ”You have come back.

I prayed for this, and you have come.”

Behind him, Sir Roye moaned and walked over to the window. Bowing his head, he put his hand to his face.

Dain swiftly turned his gaze back to Lord Odfrey. ”I am called Dain, lord,” he said softly. ”I was Jorb maker's apprentice and fostered son. You saved my life, and I saved yours. Where your son walks today, you are not yet ready to go. It is not your time. Do not let this wound end your life before its fullness.” The chevard closed his eyes and sighed deeply. He seemed to sleep again, but his fingers did not slacken on Dain's hand.

When Dain tried to pull away, the chevard opened his eyes at once. This time they looked more alert.

”Stay with me,” he commanded, and sank back into his troubled sleep.

Dain stayed.

For three days, Dain remained in the chevard's room, present whenever the man awakened and called for him. A cot was brought for him to sleep on. Food was served to him on trays. Lord Odfrey's condition slowly improved, and Sulein beamed at Dain in approval.

”Your presence is helping. It is exactly as I wished and expected.” Sulein worked hard. He mixed potions with noxious smells that he poured down Lord Odfrey's throat. He changed the bandage occasionally, sc.r.a.ping off the evil poultice and replacing it with fresh. The wound looked puckered and angry. Dain believed it should be exposed to the air, and the windows opened to let in sunlight, but Sulein kept the place tight and airless, like a stuffy cave. His hands were not always clean when he ministered tothe chevard. Dain believed Lord Odfrey lived in spite of Sulein's ministrations.

As for spells, he saw Sulein cast only one, and there was little magic in it. Although Dain had been frightened of the physician at first, he gradually began to suspect that Sulein was not a true sorcerel after all but instead only a man trying to be one.

Dain was never alone with the chevard. Sir Roye stood guard over his master like a faithful old dog, and Dain had no opportunities to open the windows or to throw the poultice away. Bored, he ate all the food he could get his hands on and wandered about the chamber, examining its contents without touching or disturbing anything.

Then came the early dawn when Dain was awakened by a slight noise. He sat up and left his cot, going to the chevard's bedside at once on silent feet. Sir Roye was slumped in a chair, snoring. Sulein had gone. The candles were all guttered, and the fires had died to a few crumbling, hissing coals atop heaps of ashes. Meager daylight leaked in around the edges of the shutters. Dain went to one window and opened it, letting in cold air and dawn's shadowy, gray light.

The chevard lay on his side. His eyes stared, and he did not breathe. Horrified, Dain crept closer. It was dawn, the hour when souls were the least anch.o.r.ed to their bodies. Was the chevard dead?

He did not want to believe it, but already grief was swelling inside his heart. Refusing to let his mind touch death, Dain kept his senses to himself and instead touched the chevard's arm.

The man's flesh was warm and pliant. The chevard blinked, and Dain flinched back. Almost at once, however, he smiled to himself and gripped the chevard's hand.

There was no fever in it. Lord Odfrey's hand was cool and dry. Dain touched his throat and found no fever there either.

Relief filled Dain. s.h.i.+vering a little in his thin s.h.i.+rt and leggings, he sank onto the stool and faced the chevard's intense stare. ”Is this the Beyond?” the chevard asked softly. ”I do not know where I am.

Nothing looks as I remember.”

”The physician changed your room,” Dain replied, his voice quiet to keep from waking Sir Roye. ”Most of the furniture is stacked in the pa.s.sageway outside the door. He said there was an imbalance in the forces and elements that-” ”Is this the Beyond?” Lord Odfrey asked again. He sounded tired, as though he had journeyed a long way.

”If you mean the third world,” Dain answered, ”no, it is not. You are still in the first world, in your hold, in your personal chamber. Sir Roye guards your rest. If you look that way, you can see him.”

”I see an eld boy who reminds me of my son,” Lord Odfrey said without moving.

”Yet you are nothing like him. Strange.”

”What is strange?” Dain asked, yawning despite himself. ”You have the spirit he did not. I could not make a warrior of him. I tried too hard, I think.”

”We are what we are,” Dain said. ”I am not-” ”There is a belief, an old one,” the chevard broke in, ”that the eldin sometimes carry our souls for us. Or the souls of our loved ones. Carried from the Beyond back into our world so that we can see them for a little while. Is that true?” Dain frowned. ”I know not. I have never heard it.”

”You must know.”

”I was not raised among my people,” Dain said. ”I do not know their ways.” The chevard's intense stare never wavered. ”Do you carry my son's soul, Dain? Is that why you came here? So that I could see some part of him again for a time?” Dain's frown deepened, for he felt uncomfortable with these odd questions. ”I came out of need,” he said simply. ”I lost my home and family. I had nowhere to go.”

He hesitated a long moment, and the chevard did not interrupt. Finally, the truth forced its way out: ”I came to you,” Dain admitted, ”because I knew you would fight the Bnen and defeat them. I wanted revenge for what they did to my sister and to Jorb.”

”Did I give you this revenge?” Lord Odfrey asked. ”I do not remember.” ”You did,” Dain said. He started to add that revenge had brought no comfort to his heart. He still missed Thia and Jorb, still hated the Bnen, still wanted everything put back as it had been. The dead did not erase the dead. But he felt it would be wrong to utter such feelings, and he held his tongue. ”You fought them valiantly, lord, and you defeated them.”

The chevard rolled onto his back and moaned. ”My face hurts like-Where is Sir Roye?”

His voice was growing stronger and more querulous. From his corner, Sir Roye snorted awake and sat upright.

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