Read Online Exile's Children by Angus Wells - Free Book Online Page B

she already knew the answer, that she discovered momentarily layers of this relationship she had not suspected. “What then?”
    Rannach snorted humorless laughter. “Likely,” he admitted, “we’d have argued. And I taken you out on that fine piebald mare, all around the Meeting Ground, both of us dressed in our finest, that all here could see my prize.”
    â€œAnd rub Vachyr’s nose in it?” she asked. “And Chakthi’s?”
    â€œYes!” he said, and laughed honestly. “But you see how wise my father is? He sent my mother instead, knowing she might persuade me.”
    Arrhyna feared his pride might get the better of his sense and moved closer against him. “I am glad,” she said, “that your mother succeeded.”
    For a moment she thought this little battle lost, but then he relaxed and turned toward her. “As am I,” he said.
    Neither of them heard Lhyn’s discreet cough as she left the promised food outside their lodge, and by the time they found it, it was cold and the dogs had eaten most of it.
    The night was cool, the sky above the Meeting Ground a star-pocked expanse dominated by the gibbous moon that shone silvery on the pinnacle of the Maker’s Mountain as Rannach quite the lodge. Arrhyna had braided his hair, fixing the plaits that marked him as a warrior with little silver brooches of Grannach manufacture that glittered bravely in the moonlight. She thought he looked magnificent as he settled his blanket about his shoulders and bade her farewell.
    â€œYou’ll not attend?” he asked again.
    She shook her head, smiling. “I’d not spoil so day with sight of Vachyr. His sullen face would be proud of her. “You can tell me what’s decided when you return. Or in the morning.”
    Languidly, she stroked their sleeping furs. Rannach laughed. “You grow forward, wife.”
    She grinned. “Also I’d tidy this lodge. I’ll not have your mother think me a slattern.”
    â€œMy mother,” he said, “likes you.”
    â€œAnd I her,” Arrhyna replied. “And so I’d show her how good a wife I shall be to her son.”
    â€œYou are,” he said.
    â€œSo, now go.” She rose to touch his cheek. “The drums are calling, and I’ve work to do.”
    Rannach smiled, studying her awhile as of he would fix her forever in his memory, then nodded and ducked through the lodge flap.
    Folk were already moving toward the center of the camp, where a wide-spaced ring of fires marked the inner circle where the akamans and wakanishas gathered. The more senior warriors sat between the flames, an informal barrier between the gathered mass and those who would debate Colun’s news, Thus the clan leaders might talk with some degree of privacy, without undue interruption. Later they would speak with their clans, make their suggestions and hear the views of their own folk before returning to the Council, that consensus be reached. Such was the way of the People.
    As Rannach approached the Commacht lodges, Bakaan stepped from the shadows. Zhy and Hadustan were with him, falling into step like a bodyguard.
    â€œWe waited for you.” Bakaan sounded excited. “By the Maker, I thought you’d never quit your lodge.”
    Rannach grinned with all the lofty pride of a new husband. “I had good reason not to,” he said, “but I’d hear what Colun’s to say, and what the akamans decide.”
    â€œArrhyna does not come?” asked Zhy.
    Rannach shook his head, trusting they’d see the splendid brooches. “She was”—he glanced from one to the other—“too tired.”
    His friends howled laughter. Hadustan said, “And you? Do you need a shoulder to lean on?”
    â€œI,” Rannach declared solemnly, “am strong. I can still stand without your help. Just.”
    More laughter at that, then a sobering as they crossed