Free The Swans' War 3 - The Shadow Roads by Sean Russell Page A
Authors: Sean Russell
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7
He went about in a barrow. Beatrice Renne could not get that thought out of her mind. He looked a bit like a hog as well; round and soft of flesh, his pate bald, and skin of pinkish hue. But he had saved the life of Lord Carral Wills, and for that she would allow a man in a barrow into her hall, and treat him with all the goodwill such a deed deserved.
"It is a story that will surely be made into song," Beatrice said. "Certainly it shall. How you found each other, then managed to get off the Isle without being discovered either by the men of Innes or the many searchers that Kel sent out. … It is almost miraculous."She thought Lord Carral looked rather improved by this un-expected expedition across country. A healthy color suffused his face, and he appeared to have been somewhat strengthened by his ordeal. Certainly his carriage was more erect. Perhaps it had merely taken his mind away from the loss of his daughter, and that would not be a bad thing. She herself had struggled much with the loss of her nephew, Arden—and his part in the plot against Toren had only made it harder. Though, of course, he had acted honorably in the end. It was a small comfort, but she clung to it all the same.
The evening was warm, but they sat by the cold hearth—there were many things that one did not discuss by open windows, after all, no matter how close the night. Lord Carral was dressed in Fael clothing, and she thought it became him in some way, though of course he did not have the night-black hair or the dusky, silken skin.
She glanced at his companion again and had to cover her re-vulsion with a gracious smile. "I cannot begin to tell you how grate-ful I am, good Kai. Anything we might do to repay, you have only to ask…"The legless man smiled at her in return—not an entirely ap-palling smile, she thought.
Carral shifted in his chair, clearly a little uncomfortable.
"There is a greater tale to tell," the minstrel said. "But I don't know how we should even begin, for it is such a fantastic story…" He paused, a hand rising to his forehead, which he massaged gently. "We have spoken, Lady Beatrice, about this man—the 'ghost' who came to me in Braidon Castle.""This is the man, Alaan. The sorcerer?""Yes, though it seems the name Alaan is not quite correct either. You see, he made a bargain with a nagar.""A river spirit?" Lady Beatrice asked. She kept her face com-pletely neutral at this news. She was prepared to listen to any kind of story from Carral Wills at that moment, so happy was she to see him safe.
"I don't know if that would completely describe this particular nagar, for this nagar had once been the son of a great sorcerer named Wyrr, from whom came the river's ancient name."Lady Beatrice felt herself nod, willing Lord Carral to go on. "And what, exactly, do you mean, 'he made a bargain'?""I don't know quite how to describe it, or if I even understand it. In return for power and knowledge he allowed this spirit … to enter him in some way.""You mean he is possessed by it?""That is not precisely true, if you don't mind me saying so," the legless man interjected. "It is a bargain. The man gives part of his life to the nagar, the nagar's memories and some portion of its per-sonality become part of the man.""It
7
He went about in a barrow. Beatrice Renne could not get that thought out of her mind. He looked a bit like a hog as well; round and soft of flesh, his pate bald, and skin of pinkish hue. But he had saved the life of Lord Carral Wills, and for that she would allow a man in a barrow into her hall, and treat him with all the goodwill such a deed deserved.
"It is a story that will surely be made into song," Beatrice said. "Certainly it shall. How you found each other, then managed to get off the Isle without being discovered either by the men of Innes or the many searchers that Kel sent out. … It is almost miraculous."She thought Lord Carral looked rather improved by this un-expected expedition across country. A healthy color suffused his face, and he appeared to have been somewhat strengthened by his ordeal. Certainly his carriage was more erect. Perhaps it had merely taken his mind away from the loss of his daughter, and that would not be a bad thing. She herself had struggled much with the loss of her nephew, Arden—and his part in the plot against Toren had only made it harder. Though, of course, he had acted honorably in the end. It was a small comfort, but she clung to it all the same.
The evening was warm, but they sat by the cold hearth—there were many things that one did not discuss by open windows, after all, no matter how close the night. Lord Carral was dressed in Fael clothing, and she thought it became him in some way, though of course he did not have the night-black hair or the dusky, silken skin.
She glanced at his companion again and had to cover her re-vulsion with a gracious smile. "I cannot begin to tell you how grate-ful I am, good Kai. Anything we might do to repay, you have only to ask…"The legless man smiled at her in return—not an entirely ap-palling smile, she thought.
Carral shifted in his chair, clearly a little uncomfortable.
"There is a greater tale to tell," the minstrel said. "But I don't know how we should even begin, for it is such a fantastic story…" He paused, a hand rising to his forehead, which he massaged gently. "We have spoken, Lady Beatrice, about this man—the 'ghost' who came to me in Braidon Castle.""This is the man, Alaan. The sorcerer?""Yes, though it seems the name Alaan is not quite correct either. You see, he made a bargain with a nagar.""A river spirit?" Lady Beatrice asked. She kept her face com-pletely neutral at this news. She was prepared to listen to any kind of story from Carral Wills at that moment, so happy was she to see him safe.
"I don't know if that would completely describe this particular nagar, for this nagar had once been the son of a great sorcerer named Wyrr, from whom came the river's ancient name."Lady Beatrice felt herself nod, willing Lord Carral to go on. "And what, exactly, do you mean, 'he made a bargain'?""I don't know quite how to describe it, or if I even understand it. In return for power and knowledge he allowed this spirit … to enter him in some way.""You mean he is possessed by it?""That is not precisely true, if you don't mind me saying so," the legless man interjected. "It is a bargain. The man gives part of his life to the nagar, the nagar's memories and some portion of its per-sonality become part of the man.""It
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