[Lanen Kaelar 01] - Song in the Silence by Elizabeth Kerner

two hours past noon.”
    I shook myself and looked out the window of the
inn. He was right, noon was long gone. It was still raining, but the sky was
beginning to lighten in the east with at least some hope of an end to the
soaking. The couple in the corner table had finished eating and seemed to be in
the midst of an animated discussion.
    Jamie stood and stretched. “I should get out
to the stables and check up on the lads,” he said. “I’ll get the
innkeeper to bring them some of that stew that smells so good, if you’ll
arrange the same for us. I’ll be back soon.”
    I ordered the stew and a large loaf of fresh
bread. By the time it had come Jamie was back, bringing with him a whiff of the
stables. It almost smelled homey.
    We sat together, as we had always done, and broke
bread together. I found myself blushing for the way I had treated him. Blast
him, he always could see my thoughts clear as daylight.
    “So you’re over your horrors, are you?”
he said with a wry smile. “About time, too, ye daft thing.” He leaned
across the little table and took my hand. “I never meant to shock you so,
my girl, but ifs time you learned there’s more to most people than meets the
eye.”
    “I know, Jamie. I just thought I knew
you.” I stared at him, trying to see in him all the Jamies I had met:
oldest friend and truest companion, lover of the mother I had never known,
killer for hire, to whom now I owed my life for dispatching but twelve hours
past—the ruffian who would have killed me.
    He squeezed my hand. “You do know me, Lanen.
Better than any save your mother.” He let go my hand and grinned.
“Better than you might wish to, I dare say. But at least such friendship
means that after we eat I can finish the tale for you.”
    Jamie said it was good stew, but I hardly tasted
it. The instant he was finished with his bowl I whisked it away, filled his
tankard again and sat it squarely in front of him.
    “Right. Talk,” I demanded.
    He laughed—louder than usual, I suspect the ale
was finally affecting him, though his capacity was legendary—and settled back
in his chair, gazing at me. It was a measuring glance, though I could not think
what he was seeing.
    “You know, you’ve been right all these
years. You never did suit Hadronsstead, not from your first breath. We’ve not
talked so much for years, my girl; save just after Hadron died, and I’ve missed
it sore.” His smile broadened. “And you have never ordered me to do
anything your life long. It suits you.” This for some reason struck him as
amusing. “Just like your mother,” he added, laughing rather too
loudly.
    I drummed my fingers on the table. This sent him
off into another gale of laughter; and I couldn’t help it—I never could hear
Jamie laugh and not join in. When he finally stopped, wiping his eyes, he sat
and grinned like a cat who’s found the dairy. “As I live and breathe,
Lanen, Maran did that very thing when she was annoyed. Where did you pick that
up?”
    “Nowhere. I mean, I’ve always done it,”
I said, surprised. All my life I had gone without any word of my mother, and of
a sudden it seemed that she had some part in me after all. “Jamie, why in
the name of sense have you never told me any of this before?”
    He sobered a bit, at that. “I gave my word,
lasso I swore to Hadron that I would not speak to you of your mother as long as
I lived under his roof.”
    “But why?”
    “Ah, well, that’s the rest of the
story.” His grin broke out again. “And so you’ve brought me round to
it. You’re too damn clever by half, you know. Still, I suppose needs must. I’ve
avoided it long enough.” He sipped at his ale.
    “You see, Maran and I were lovers again on
the road away from Illara.” He shot a keen glance at me, keener than rd
have thought him capable of at the time. I kept my face carefully composed.
Whatever it was, I needed to hear it.
    “We arrived at Hadronsstead not a fortnight
before Midwinter Fest.