“Where are they now?” Warna asked.
“Most are scattered along the border,” Verice said. “Three are housed in the town, in case of need here. They are but a short ride away.” He winced a little. That sounded foolish, even to his ears.
“The building sleeps a good many,” Warna said.
“Some of the rooms were meant for the ill and injured,” Verice said.
“There may be wounded that need tending here at the keep,” Warna said. “Best to have the place ready, in case of need. There’s a lovely small room at the very top, and I can sleep there.”
“I’d thought to send you away, again,” Verice said. “Somewhere safe.”
Warna dropped her eyes, but he caught the flash of resistance. “Where were the attacks yesterday?” Warna asked.
Verice sighed, and pushed his bowl away. “To the south, along the border with Edenrich. We suspect the Usurper is probing, looking for a weakness.” He poured himself some more kav. “We are spread too thin as it is.”
Warna nodded asVerice talked in detail of troop placements, and the difficulties of protecting a large border. Most of it went over her head, the names and places unfamiliar to her. But his concerns, his fears for his people came through clearly. He seemed to take comfort in talking, as if it helped him see the situation in his mind’s eye.
Finally, he stopped, clearly frustrated, and took a sip of kav. Warna took a breath, and spoke quickly, almost afraid of his response.
“Lord Verice, it strikes me that there is nowhere as safe as here.”
His eyes were tired and his pain clear. “It hasn’t been, in the past.” He stared into his mug. “I think it best that I send you somewhere else. To start your life, Warna.”
“That’s the problem,” Warna said, ignoring her fear. “I don’t know what I want yet.” She hesitated, surprised she was confiding this to him, but wanting him to understand. “It’s all too new, too unsettling. Cleaning though...” she laughed wryly. “Cleaning is something I am all too comfortable with. It keeps my hands busy. Lets me think.”
“New songs, perhaps?” Verice said.
“Or finish the ones I’ve started.” Warna smiled, but she let it fade as she grew serious. “I need time, m’lord. Time to think.”
Verice stared into his kav, but then he slowly ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m not convinced it’s all that safe, but I admit that I don’t have an alternative. At least until the Healing Hall is clean.”
“I’ll see it done,” Warna assured him as she reached for more bread. “And I can see it stocked, if you wish. Best there are supplies in place before a need.”
He didn’t wantthis.
The kav turned bitter in his mouth, and heavy in his stomach. He knew where this was going. Common sense and simple logic cried out for both castle and keep to be restored.
His heart cried out against it.
He closed his eyes, wanting to hold it all back, stop time and space, make no changes. The lump of pain in his chest grew until he didn’t know how his heart had room to beat anymore.
The dogs stirred; Brindle got up and nudged his arm with his nose. Warna was silent, spreading cheese on her bread, her head down, giving him what privacy she could.
In his pain, the mental image of Charrin raging out his grief flashed before his eyes, and Verice felt a flash of sympathy for the elf. How did one ever deal with such anguish?
He opened his mouth, wanting to deny Warna, wanting to order her to stop, order her to lock the Healing Hall back up, order her to leave—
No. He didn’t want that.
“Not the keep, Warna.” He managed to strangle out the words. “Not the keep.”
She lifted her gaze, and her brown eyes were warm, and understanding. “I promise, Verice.”
He held her gaze, and knew without knowing quite how, that he could trust her.
A blush rose on her cheeks, and she glanced at the dog beside him, its head just above the table. “M’lord, perhaps you’d introduce us? I still don’t know their names.”
Chapter Twenty
