Free Kirith Kirin (The City Behind the Stars) by Jim Grimsley

there were three campfires now. He lectured me, but seemed pleased I had distinguished myself with an escapade. I would have gotten more scolding, I guess, except after a few minutes Kirith Kirin summoned him back for more talk.
     
    When he turned, he wore a clearly worried expression, and my heart sank. I was in trouble after all, I guessed. We got our dinner-portion, nearly a feast compared with our traveling rations, and he led me away from the fire.
     
    His face let me know this was more serious than my straying across the bridge. “Commander Imral sent Kirith Kirin a message the night we met him,” Uncle Sivisal said. “It was about your family. Our family.”
     
    I became still, and a chill passed over me, like the touch of the ghost in the city. “Why?”
     
    “He sent soldiers to guard your farm.” Sivisal watched me somberly. “Soldiers who know their business and will be seen by nobody. Commander Imral asked him to do that.”
     
    This news threw me into some confusion. Sivisal allowed me to sip wine from his cup. “They’re afraid the Queen’s soldiers will make trouble for your family.”
     
    “But they didn’t see us, they don’t know who we are.”
     
    “The woman in the White Cloak knows how to find out,” my uncle said.
     
    “You mean you think she traced our path that same day —” My own words choked me.
     
    “Don’t worry. They’ll be all right.” But he hardly seemed convinced of that himself.
     
    We ate our supper. He brought me a cup of watered wine when we returned to the fire. Some talk passed during dinner, about other things, camp news, a fresh rumor from Cordyssa. I was picturing my mother, doing, as she had promised, the things she had always done.
     
    After a while I asked, “When will the soldiers be there?”
     
    “Soon,” Uncle Sivisal said, but from his manner I wondered if soon would be soon enough.
     
    After this, the pleasant fire and the sound of voices made me sad, and I asked Uncle Sivisal if I could walk by the river for a while. Mercifully he omitted any mention of my recent wandering, maybe because his spirits were low. He directed me to stay in sight of the campfire.
     
    As my eyes adjusted to darkness, I could see the river and walked there. When a thought tried to come into my mind I shut it out. I watched the river and listened to the sounds of its passing. Close to its freshness I felt peace, even warmth after a while, more than the fire had been able to bring. I stayed till the white moon was high. Back at the fires, figures sat drinking wine, their voices reaching me without any distinctness of words. I crawled into my bed without returning to the fire. My mind was full and fought sleep for a long time. Finally Uncle Sivisal went to bed, nearby, and I took comfort in that. A few days ago he had been a stranger, but now he was my only kin in sight. I lay under the soft infthil leaves with fear in my mind, till sleep came. I had no dreams.
     
    5
     
    In the morning we sang Velunen and set out on the ride around the river city. Through the early hours we traveled in the shadow of the city walls, a vast circumference. Prince Kirith and his companions rode at the head of our company, the rest of us after. Toward midday we crossed over another stone bridge, this one less grand than the last, though it was also built when Falamar was King. camp was particularly pleasant that night with the stone abutments of the bridge to reflect the fire and protect us from wind.
     
    At sunset we sang Kithilunen. Kirith Kirin was there but simply watched and listened, saying nothing before and nothing after. A hunting party had gone out during the day and we ate well on what they had killed. That evening only one fire was laid, and Kirith Kirin sat among the rest of us. No one acted as if this were anything unusual. He was boisterous, telling many stories and leading some rounds of singing. It was obvious he was well-loved; in his presence even Sivisal became