Bruhn meet him secretly?
CHAPTER 8
The next morning, as they were taking up their way again, Catryn moved to stand beside Bruhn.
“Who was that you were speaking with last night?” she asked, not bothering to give him a morning greeting.
“What do you mean?” He stared at her, eyes wide.
“I saw you talking with a man some time after we retired. Who was he?”
“No one. I do not know. Just a man …” Bruhn dropped his eyes, unable to meet hers. Then he blustered on, “Why were you spying on me?”
“I was not spying,” Catryn began, but Bruhn whirled away from her.
She stared after him. His guilt was only too apparent. But Dahl would not see it, she feared. This was a problem she must solve without him. So when Dahl joined them she said only, “It would seem we should visit this Mavahn.”
“Most assuredly,” Dahl agreed. “Perhaps the lad will speak with us.”
“What lad?” asked the Sele, yawning a little as he rummaged in his saddlebags for grain.
Catryn told him.
“He might speak with me,” the Sele said.
Both Catryn and Dahl looked at it in surprise.
“With you?” Dahl asked. “I mean no offense, but why would he speak with you and not with any other man?”
“Precisely because I am not a man,” the Sele answered. Its words were slightly muffled by the handful of grain it was chewing. “We Sele know something of what it is to be afraid of your kind.”
“You are right, of course,” Dahl said quickly. “Unfortunately, you speak the truth, my friend. Forgive me for questioning you.”
“It is of no matter,” the Sele replied. “We know you humans often take some time to see the obvious. It is not your fault.”
Dahl looked taken aback for a moment, then managed a wry smile.
Catryn hid a smile of her own. I would wager noone has talked to Dahl the king in that manner for a while, she thought. But aloud, all she said was, “Let us be off, then.”
Mavahn’s house was a poor cottage. Beyond it the forest loomed. There was a small patch of garden in front with a few scraggly vegetables growing in it, but they looked to be sadly in need of care. Dahl and Catryn dismounted just outside the tumbledown fence and motioned to the others to do the same, then they started up the path to the doorway.
Catryn caught a glimpse of a face at one cracked and dirty window. The door opened before they reached it.
“What do you want?” The woman standing in the doorway was thin. She stooped as if the strength to stand straight had deserted her completely. Her voice was flat and sounded as tired as she looked.
“Mavahn?” Dahl asked.
“I am,” she replied.
“We have come to speak with your son, if we may,” Dahl said.
“He speaks to no one,” the woman replied. She made as if to shut the door in their faces.
“Please,” Catryn broke in. “We wish to help if wecan. We want to find out what is happening in the north.”
Mavahn’s face closed. “You cannot help us. And the less said about the goings on north of here the better. Whatever it is, it has robbed my poor son of his wits.”
At this, although her voice was shrill, Catryn saw the woman’s eyes fill with tears. Catryn made a move toward her.
“But we might be able to do something. We have helped this land before …” She stopped as she caught Dahl’s warning glance.
“If I could speak with your son,” the Sele said, stepping forward. “Perhaps he might be able to tell me what happened to him.”
Mavahn looked at the Sele, her eyes widening now with astonishment.
“I am a Sele,” Sele the Plump said with its usual dignity. It had become used to the people of Taun thinking it was some kind of pet. “We live in a country to the south of here,” it explained yet again. “We are a peaceful race. We can be trusted completely.”
Mavahn stared at it for one long moment. The Sele returned her stare placidly.
She must have seen something to reassure her, Catryn thought, because her manner slowly