Free Return to Eddarta by Randall Garrett

story would be clearer from Rikardon. Yet you chose to take my secondhand account—”
    “Thanasset told me your joints were troubling you,” I said to Ferrathyn, smiling at the interplay between the old friends. “I’m glad you felt well enough to come this evening. Should your trouble return on the next occasion, Tarani and I would be honored to come to you.”
    “The honor would be mine,” the old man said. “I regret that I have missed meeting the next High Lord of Eddarta, yet again. Do you see any difficulty in her enforcing her claim?”
    I opened my mouth, closed it again, and then laughed.
    “I
see
no difficulty,” I said. “We have the King’s sword, and her mother’s support, and the weight of the other Lords’ dislike for Indomel on our side. But if difficulties could be anticipated, they would cease to be difficulties, wouldn’t they?”
    Both men laughed with me, but I could see their hearts weren’t in it. Ferrathyn, in fact, looked a little ill. A slight tremor stirred the long sleeves of his tunic, where his wrists lay along the arms of the chair.
    “It will be several moons before we can bring the Ra’ira back,” I said. “I think I ought to tell you that I took it on myself to tell Zaddorn the truth about—”
    “You
what?”
Ferrathyn interrupted, snapping forward in his chair. The trembling in his arms was more noticeable as he clutched the arm of the chair, and his eyes were flashing. “Rikardon, you had no right—”
    I felt myself growing angry. “I had as much right as anyone else who knows,” I said, “and far more reason. You forget, I have
faced
the vineh; I know what Zaddorn is up against. And I don’t mean to criticize, but I think keeping the truth from him this long was not only unfair, but dangerous to the citizens of Raithskar he is bound to protect.”
    Thanasset had stood up, and now he came between Ferrathyn and me, holding a raised hand toward each of us.
    “There is no reason for anger in this,” he said. “Each of you has done what he believed right, has he not?”
    The tension lasted a moment longer, then Ferrathyn took a deep breath and relaxed back into his chair. I realized I was leaning forward, too, and made myself sit back.
    “You are right as always, my good friend,” Ferrathyn said, reaching out to touch Thanasset’s arm. “It seems you were right to begin with, when you urged taking Zaddorn into the confidence of the Council. I would apologize for opposing you, but the issue seems inconsequential now.”
    “Everything is inconsequential,” Thanasset said, “except getting back the Ra’ira.” He looked at me. “I hesitate to ask, son—having you and Tarani and the sha’um here these few days has been a memorable joy—but …”
    “You were gone when I woke,” I said. “This is the first chance I’ve had to tell you—we have decided to start the journey back to Eddarta tomorrow.”
    Thanasset’s expression flickered between relief and sadness.
    “Milda will be upset,” he said. “She spends hours with those cubs.” He sat down. “You will all be missed.”
    “Are you taking the young sha’um with you?” Ferrathyn asked, surprised. “Will that not slow your journey?”
    “Better a slow journey than none at all,” I said. “Neither of the sha’um would go without the cubs.” I leaned over and slapped Thanasset’s knee lightly. “I know for a fact that Milda hasn’t been out there playing with the cubs all alone,” I said. “They love you both, you know. They will miss you.”
    “I expect you will want an early start,” Ferrathyn said, and stood up. I felt glad to see that he did move easily now. Standing, he was barely taller than my head while I was sitting. “I shall not keep you longer.”
    Thanasset was up again, protesting. “But it is your first visit in so long,” he said. “Stay a while, and talk.”
    “About what?” the old man asked, raising an eyebrow. “The vineh? The Ra’ira? They are the