and Kyrinin, yet the intermixing of their blood sometimes gave a na'kyrim child access to its secrets and powers. Those in whom that contact with the Shared flowered were named the waking. Inurian was one such.
Orisian could not remember a time when Inurian had not been here, in his little rooms at the summit of the castle. He had come to Kolglas before Orisian was born, finding in Kennet nan Lannis-Haig a rare thing in these days: a human who would offer friendship to a na'kyrim. It was not a sentiment all in the castle could share. The War of the Tainted had ended forever the days when Huanin and Kyrinin walked side by side; there was little goodwill for the offspring of any union that defied the weight of that history, and even less for those woken into the Shared. Still, Inurian had stood loyally at the side of the lord of Kolglas for years. And since the deaths of Lairis and Fariel, and Kennet's decline into misery, he had become steadily more important to Orisian as well.
'How was your journey?' Inurian asked, his voice smooth and warm.
'Cold. A little damp.'
Idrin croaked in the window, and Inurian chuckled.
'Well, we are both pleased to see you in any case. Is Croesan well? And Naradin's child safely born?'
Orisian bent over the table, peering at the mushrooms arrayed there and prodding one. 'Yes, to both.
Croesan has a very healthy grandson. What are these for, Inurian?'
The na'kyrim waved a dismissive hand. 'Curiosity. One eases the birthing of calves, another soothes aching joints and so on. Nothing of great consequence.'
'You've been into the forests again, then.'
'Indeed. The slopes of the Car Anagais hold many secrets for those who know where to look.'
'When can I come with you?' asked Orisian.
Inurian shrugged. 'We'll see,' he said. 'Soon, perhaps.' It was what he always said.
Orisian went to stroke Idrin's glossy breast. The crow blinked and ducked his head in the hope that Orisian would pet the nape of his neck.
'I cling to the slender hope that if I search long and hard enough I may yet find a cure for disobedience in crows,' muttered Inurian.
'But an obedient Idrin would not be Idrin,' said Orisian.
'True.'
Orisian sat on the corner of the desk.
'My father?' he asked quietly.
Inurian returned to his seat with a sigh. 'For him I have no cures, I'm afraid. Not that I could administer them even if I did, as he will see no one save your sister. She has tended him ever since you left for Anduran. His grief must run its course, Orisian. He will remember himself soon.'
'He'll come to the feast?'
'I'm sure. You know these moods pass.'
'I do. It seems they take longer each time, though. I am afraid that some day one will come that does not leave him.'
Inurian regarded the youth for a moment, sadness tweaking at the corners of his mouth.
'Shall we go hunting on the first day of winter?' he asked.
Orisian brightened a little at the suggestion.
'We could. I've missed the hawks while I was at Anduran. Uncle Croesan prefers crashing through the forest with packs of hounds. I had to go along with him, but it's not really my idea of hunting.'
'A fact of life: Thanes must make more noise about their business than ordinary folk, whatever that business is.'
'What is planned for Winterbirth, then?' asked Orisian.
'Oh, I would be the wrong person to ask,' said Inurian. 'You know half of what goes on here is a mystery to me.'
'Hardly.'
'Well, in any case, I have not been paying much attention. There will be all the usual gluttony, of course. I heard something about entertainers as well. There's a troupe of acrobats or something similar coming to town. Masterless men.'
Orisian raised his eyebrows in surprise. Masterless men, those who owed no allegiance to any Blood, were not an unknown sight in these parts, but most of them were solitary traders or hunters from the hills and mountains to the north. They entered Lannis-Haig lands only to ply their wares in Glasbridge or Anduran. He could not
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