Elizabeth Kerner: Redeeming the Lost

Mistress Kiri, to my astonishment, even went so far as to convince the steward to give me access to Marik's fortune. I tried to object. Mistress Kiri, looking at me rather more shrewdly than I would have expected, said, "Did your father, in his entire life, ever give you one single thing?"

"No," I replied simply, realising that she might not want to hear the true answer, which would be Well, he gave me to a demon, or tried to. Does that count?

"Then he can make up for quite a long stretch of neglect," she declared, handing me the key to Marik's treasure room.

I had a long talk with the steward, Kesh, who was harmless enough if you didn't expect much in the way of generosity. Marik had hired him for his grasping nature. I made him swear on his soul and in front of quite a few witnesses, including Mistress Kiri, to pay everyone in the place a better wage, thanked him for looking after the lands so well, told him to get in more cattle as we might expect any number of winged visitors in the near future, and left him to it.

I suppose I could have tried to live there, but it never even occurred to me. Spending more time than absolutely necessary in a place where Marik was honoured? No. I would presume far enough to provide myself and my friends with food and shelter for a week, and the staff with a decent living from my father's ill-got gains, but more than that I could not do. I did leave the staff with the impression that I might return at any time. Just for morale.

I saw but little of Akor in that time. He spent his days among the three Houses of the Kantri, teaching, learning, listening, and avoiding me as surely as I was avoiding him. We were coming to terms with our new life, but it was hard, Goddess it was hard, and there was so much else to do. We found a compromise, finally. Akor had taken to lighting a fire on Shikrar's hill in the evenings, and I joined him there, to talk a little, to consider what had happened to us both, to speak a little of our future, but for the most part simply to be in each other's company. It grew easier, over even those few nights. He could still make me laugh.

A full seven days after the battle, when even Vilkas and Aral had recovered much of their strength, we held a last council in the Great Hall at noon. Its generous windows were flung open, and the light and air that flowed into the room were extraordinary. Spring came late to the mountains, but it seemed to be trying to make up for lost time. The orchards were heavy with delicate apple blossom, and there was some plant that grows in those hills that had the most wonderful scent I have ever known. If the High Fields of the Lady are worth achieving, they must smell like that.

We were graced with Salera's presence as well, thanks in large part to those windows. Akor, too, could come near enough to see and hear. We had put it off for a time, while wounds were healed and tales told all round, but we all knew that the time had come to go our own ways.

Jamie and Rella announced that they were leaving on the morrow. "Where are you going?" I asked. This last week had been a blessing, having the pleasure of their company without a single deadly threat in sight. I knew fine that Jamie would not stay in the House of Gundar even if I did.

"Somewhere warm and green and quiet," said Rella. "Where they have real beds with feather pillows. You have spoiled me, girl," she said, grinning at me. "This week of living at ease has got into my bones. I could bear to live like this."

"We're going back to Hadronsstead first though, Lanen," said Jamie, smiling. "I shudder to think what that idiot Walther may have been doing to the farm. He's a born horse-breeder, but I wouldn't let him within smelling distance of the Great Fair at II-lara." He put his arm around Rella. "Ilsa is green and quiet, and I daresay we will manage to make enough warmth between us to be getting on with."

Maran smiled, and only the slightest shadow darkened her eyes.

As to that," put in Akor from the window, "I am to tell you that Kedra offers to fly you as far as Elimar. He returns to his family tomorrow. He has asked me to say that he would be honoured to bear with him any who wish to journey so far."

"Oh, excellent Kedra!" cried Rella, and Jamie went so far as to stand and bow to Akor. "We accept with deep and abiding gratitude, Lord Akor. Kedra is very kind."

I turned to the Healers. "And what of you, O Dragon Mages?" I asked, teasing. Vilkas winced and Aral laughed. "I don't think our services will be needed here for a time," said Aral. "I was going to go home for a bit. Benin's a fair step, but I haven't seen my family for nearly three years."

"Mistress Aral, might I have a word with you?' said Salera. Aral, taken by surprise, rose and joined her in a quiet corner of the room. They appeared to be discussing something quite solemn that was obviously important to Salera.

Vilkas returned my gaze evenly. "I think that where I go will depend greatly on where you go, Lanen Kaelar." He nodded at my belly; I was now growing more obviously pregnant, practically by the day. "I suspect that all will be well for some time yet, but if you can bear my company I would rather be nearby. Especially in the last two months," he added wryly, "lest I outstay my welcome before." He pinned me with that brilliant blue gaze, smiling for a change, and for the first time I had a glimpse of what Aral saw in him. I suppose he was rather good-looking, at that.

"I think Aral's idea is the best, for me," I said, turning to Maran. "Time to go home."

She nodded, resigned. "I suppose you'll want to be in Hadronsstead, somewhere familiar, now that—"

"No, no, I didn't mean that," I said hurriedly. "Not at all." I barked a short laugh. "Jamie, you know I love you like a father, but I cannot bear the walls of Hadronsstead. Maran, I know I haven't asked, and Goddess knows there will be quite some train of us if you'll have us, but—Mother, I would very much like to go back with you to Beskin." I grinned. "I expect I'll be tied down for some time over the next few years, and I've never seen the Trollingwood. Jamie tells me it's quite something."

Why it should have given me so much pleasure to see joy in Maran's face, I don't know. We still hardly knew each other, though surviving the death of the Demonlord had brought us sharply together. Perhaps now we would have the chance to put right what had gone wrong. Given enough time.

"What say you, Maran?" asked Akor gently. "Is there room in Beskin for a dragon? Can you take us both, and Mage Vilkas, and put up with two squaUing babes when the time comes?" He hissed a little. 'Though perhaps your home is too small for two babes and Lanen ... ?"

Maran laughed. "It held me and all my brothers and sisters, it can surely hold my daughter and her family. Oh, come and welcome!" she said, taking me in her arms briefly. "Though you, dragon, are almost certainly going to be a problem."

"Hmmm," said Vilkas calmly. "I appear to be going to Beskin, near the Trollingwood." He grinned. "I always wanted to travel."

The moment I was near enough to hear her quiet voice, Salera spoke.

"Mistress Aral, I have said no word, but the time is come. What is in your heart for my father Will?"

"I beg your pardon?" I asked, taken aback.

She gazed at me. "My speech is much better than it was, I am certain that you can understand me."

I was going to feign surprise, but I could not, not in the face of that open soul. "I don't know, Salera," I replied honestly. "I can only guess at what he feels, and I don't like guessing. He has never said a single word to me about his own heart."

"Father," said Salera. Her voice was not loud, but he heard and wandered over. I tried to read him as he approached, but he was just Will, just there, big and calm and golden-haired, a good friend.