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“We saw him on the road. I’m sorry I was out—he didn’t threaten anyone, I hope?”
“Oh, no, sir! It’s—Lada’s room, you must go up to her. She ran out to him, barefoot as a nymph. I’m not sure what was said, but she came back into the house in tears. She’s barred her door somehow, and I’m afraid for her. I sent Forstrel for Mod Feeney. I was afraid she’d hurt herself!”
Wistala bore him upstairs. Lada was still in her room, sobbing, with two of the Lessup girls outside, tapping on her door and trying to bring her a morning infusion.
“Anja, tell my granddaughter that I saw the thane on the road. I’d like to see her in my library. And if she doesn’t want that infusion, I will be happy to have it. Tala?”
“The library?”
“Yes.”
Wistala brought him up to the top floor—the skylight admitted the diffuse morning light through a melting frost pattern. He moved from her back into his desk chair.
Rainfall sighed. “I’ve not used them, but my legs feel terribly tired.”
Anja brought in the infusion, and Rainfall drank it gratefully. “I’m forgetting you, my noble steed. Anja, can you—?”>Wistala tried to guess which one was the thane. There was a tall powerful man all the way over to the left side in the group of five. He kept looking at the others.
She couldn’t tell if they were arrayed for war, for they wore cloaks against the chill. The two in front had short horse-bows, and all wore helms of silver color—no sign of spears or lances.
The men slowed, walking their horses up, the front two falling in a little closer to the others. One dropped back a little, as well. He was shorter than the others, perhaps some kind of servant to the warriors.
Rainfall bowed from his tied-on seat. “Thane Hammar. How nice toto meet you on a chilly morning. Your countenance always warms me.”
Astonishingly, the one farthest to the rear spoke. “Greetings! Rainfall of Mossbell. I won’t say I was surprised, for I rode looking for you. Your thane recognizes you.”
Rainfall bowed again.
Wistala examined him more closely. He was a youth, as far as she could judge men, perhaps Forstrel’s age, but more slightly framed. Tiny wisps of facial hair at either side of his mouth made his upper lip look as though it had sprouted wings, and his cheeks were spotted. His red horse, though bigger than the ones the others rode, didn’t bring him close to their head-height, and his helm, shinier than the others’, swept up to a forward point like a hawk’s beak, though it seemed overlarge and heavy for so small a head, for its brim came down almost to the bridge of his nose. He kept looking at Wistala from beneath it.
“News!” Hammar said. “I’m sorry to hear of your injury. I had no idea it was so severe, and word has just reached me. I wish to provide comfort.”
“As usual, the thane is all kindness,” Rainfall said. “But there is no need for you to exert yourself in my behalf, or add to your cares. I am managing.”
“I’ll not be dissuaded. Your burdens must be lightened. Especially now that your granddaughter is happily returned to you—”
“Bearing your progeny,” Rainfall said in a sterner tone.
“Please! Pay no attention to rumor,” Hammar said. “The brat might be anyman’s. I’ve heard it was my stableboy. Or possibly one of the gamekeepers.”
Wistala suddenly hated this half-grown bit of tailventing. Like Rainfall’s history lectures or talks on leverage, nothing cleared and settled her mind like seeing, smelling, and hearing.
“I’m shocked to see a girl not yet sixteen so insulted, in so many despicable ways,” Rainfall said.
“Watch your tongue, elf,” the tall man on the left said. “Notch!” He turned his head toward the thane. “I don’t like the look of that creature in front of the mule. It seems ready to jump.”
The two riders with bows put arrows to their strings, but did not draw.
“Wistala, stay still,” Rainfall said.
She tried to keep her tail from moving, but it seemed possessed of a mind of its own.
“The road seems an uncouth place to trade words,” Rainfall said. “Perhaps you can return to Mossbell with us and we may talk over breakfast, once weapons are properly hung up.”
“Goat-milk yogurt is not to my taste,” Hammar said. “I bear a warrant which must be answered in court. You shall appear before Judge Kal to answer. You’re no longer fit to be the master of an imperial estate.”
“Our opinions are alike, then,” Rainfall said.
The thane’s eyes widened. “You are wise to acknowledge your limitations.”
