Fen,
also. Perhaps one or two others, depending upon how many airchoppers you wish
to send."
"Two, I think, for a preliminary relief delivery,"
Edden said. "I'll have supplies delivered to Avii Castle, and the
airchoppers can fly them from there."
"That would be greatly appreciated," I said. "The
people are starving—the harvests have been very poor and far from what they
should be."
"Yes, we've analyzed the images Berel sent and that's our
conclusion as well."
"I hope the people will agree to allow the ships' medical
staff to examine those who are ill," Berel said.
"That may take time—they are quite distrustful at the
moment, as your technology appears to be sorcery to them. They don't understand
it at all."
"Will you heal them?" Berel asked.
"I may do some," I allowed my shoulders to droop. "I
worry about depleting my energy in the face of so many."
"Not everything is your worry," Wolter walked in and
dropped a hand on my shoulder. "Do what must be done and in private. We
don't need all of Fyris at the castle gate when they learn what you can do."
"Quin, many of them are treatable through other means.
Save what you have for the worst off and most deserving," Edden said. I
knew what he wasn't saying—that he'd had to pay for that privilege for Berel. I
wanted to apologize, but it hadn't been my greed that demanded payment. I would
have done the healing for nothing, because it was deserved—by father and son.
"Halthea is dead—she tried to kill the King," I
blurted instead.
"I have already heard that news so I know why you tell me
this," Edden nodded. "It is none of your fault, child. We understand
this."
"Thank you, High President," I ducked my head in a
gesture of respect. Edden smiled at me in return. "I shall make you a
citizen of Kondar. Immediately," he replied.
* * *
Vhrist
"Do you know anything about this?" Tamblin tossed a
hand-drawn picture through the bars of Rath's cell.
Rath stood slowly—the mattress he'd been given was barely an
improvement over the stone floor beneath it; the straw bedding had flattened
long ago. It did nothing to help the joint disease he'd developed after sixty
years of life.
Lifting the parchment drawing before straightening with an
effort, Rath blinked at the strange image. "What is this?" he turned
to Tamblin. Yevil stood at Tamblin's shoulder, glaring.
"Glare all you want, it won't offer insight into what
this is," Rath handed the drawing to Tamblin through the bars and shook
his head. "I've never seen such. Is it a ship?"
"That's what the fishermen say who saw it," Tamblin
snorted.
"Where is it now?" Rath asked.
"We don't know. The sailors were too frightened and too
slow to chase it."
"Then you know more than I," Rath said. "Has it
attacked, or provoked attack?"
"We have no word of such," Tamblin replied. Yevil
shuffled angrily at Tamblin's side.
"It is an enemy, that is plain to see," Yevil's
words exploded in an angry growl.
"Are you taking these sailor's words for truth, then,
without seeing this for yourself? Were they drunk, perhaps?" Rath lifted
an eyebrow at Yevil. "Were they attacked? How do you know it is an enemy?"
"Why would they be here, then?" Yevil demanded.
Rath, even in the dim light of the dungeon, saw the spittle
fly from Yevil's mouth as he spoke.
"Just because your ships plan an invasion doesn't mean
that anyone else might possess such an insane notion," Rath observed.
"What other reason would there be?" Yevil hissed,
his voice harsh and accusing. "You and the filth you call your sister
planned this, somehow."
"We planned nothing," Rath snapped.
"No? What is this, then?" Yevil jerked a message
from an inner pocket of his jacket and tossed it through the bars.
Rath didn't need to pick it up—he knew what it was. Hirill had
been instrumental in this bit of treachery. The message he'd sent to the winged
guardians had never left Fyris. "I hope I live long enough to witness your
deaths," Rath hissed.
* * *
Lironis
Quin
Rodrik
also. Perhaps one or two others, depending upon how many airchoppers you wish
to send."
"Two, I think, for a preliminary relief delivery,"
Edden said. "I'll have supplies delivered to Avii Castle, and the
airchoppers can fly them from there."
"That would be greatly appreciated," I said. "The
people are starving—the harvests have been very poor and far from what they
should be."
"Yes, we've analyzed the images Berel sent and that's our
conclusion as well."
"I hope the people will agree to allow the ships' medical
staff to examine those who are ill," Berel said.
"That may take time—they are quite distrustful at the
moment, as your technology appears to be sorcery to them. They don't understand
it at all."
"Will you heal them?" Berel asked.
"I may do some," I allowed my shoulders to droop. "I
worry about depleting my energy in the face of so many."
"Not everything is your worry," Wolter walked in and
dropped a hand on my shoulder. "Do what must be done and in private. We
don't need all of Fyris at the castle gate when they learn what you can do."
"Quin, many of them are treatable through other means.
Save what you have for the worst off and most deserving," Edden said. I
knew what he wasn't saying—that he'd had to pay for that privilege for Berel. I
wanted to apologize, but it hadn't been my greed that demanded payment. I would
have done the healing for nothing, because it was deserved—by father and son.
"Halthea is dead—she tried to kill the King," I
blurted instead.
"I have already heard that news so I know why you tell me
this," Edden nodded. "It is none of your fault, child. We understand
this."
"Thank you, High President," I ducked my head in a
gesture of respect. Edden smiled at me in return. "I shall make you a
citizen of Kondar. Immediately," he replied.
* * *
Vhrist
"Do you know anything about this?" Tamblin tossed a
hand-drawn picture through the bars of Rath's cell.
Rath stood slowly—the mattress he'd been given was barely an
improvement over the stone floor beneath it; the straw bedding had flattened
long ago. It did nothing to help the joint disease he'd developed after sixty
years of life.
Lifting the parchment drawing before straightening with an
effort, Rath blinked at the strange image. "What is this?" he turned
to Tamblin. Yevil stood at Tamblin's shoulder, glaring.
"Glare all you want, it won't offer insight into what
this is," Rath handed the drawing to Tamblin through the bars and shook
his head. "I've never seen such. Is it a ship?"
"That's what the fishermen say who saw it," Tamblin
snorted.
"Where is it now?" Rath asked.
"We don't know. The sailors were too frightened and too
slow to chase it."
"Then you know more than I," Rath said. "Has it
attacked, or provoked attack?"
"We have no word of such," Tamblin replied. Yevil
shuffled angrily at Tamblin's side.
"It is an enemy, that is plain to see," Yevil's
words exploded in an angry growl.
"Are you taking these sailor's words for truth, then,
without seeing this for yourself? Were they drunk, perhaps?" Rath lifted
an eyebrow at Yevil. "Were they attacked? How do you know it is an enemy?"
"Why would they be here, then?" Yevil demanded.
Rath, even in the dim light of the dungeon, saw the spittle
fly from Yevil's mouth as he spoke.
"Just because your ships plan an invasion doesn't mean
that anyone else might possess such an insane notion," Rath observed.
"What other reason would there be?" Yevil hissed,
his voice harsh and accusing. "You and the filth you call your sister
planned this, somehow."
"We planned nothing," Rath snapped.
"No? What is this, then?" Yevil jerked a message
from an inner pocket of his jacket and tossed it through the bars.
Rath didn't need to pick it up—he knew what it was. Hirill had
been instrumental in this bit of treachery. The message he'd sent to the winged
guardians had never left Fyris. "I hope I live long enough to witness your
deaths," Rath hissed.
* * *
Lironis
Quin
Rodrik
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