Nerilka's Story Read Online Free PDF Page B

his eyes round with fear that he had somehow forgotten something important.
    Controlling myself, I apologized to the healer for overburdening him. I would have merely ordered a second drudge to assist Sim and the healer, but as I entered the kitchen passage, I caught sight of Anella sweeping down the steps, beckoning imperiously to Felim. I knew that if I entered the main kitchen and saw that smug little lay-aback playing Lady Holder, I would rue the outcome. Instead, I left by the side door with healer and drudge. The chill afternoon air enveloped and cooled me, though I set a brisk pace for my companions.
    The Harper Hall was in an uproar when I got there, alive with shouts and cries of joy. I couldn’t imagine what occasioned such joy, but it was contagious and I smiled without knowing why, just relieved to hear some happiness. Then the voices became separated and an unmistakable baritone rang clearly.
    “Fog caught me between holds, friends,” Master Tirone was saying in clarion tones. “And a lame runner. I caught a fresh mount from a pasture and was proceeding on when I heard the first drum message. I came on apace, I can tell you, and never stopped for sleep or food. I’ll apologize for borrowing the runners later, when the drums are not so hot with important messages.” The sly hint of laughter in his voice was rewarded by chuckles from the other harpers. “It was shorter to take the back route by then, so how was I to know Lord Tolocamp had set up guards to prevent any of us entering or leaving?” That was the first I’d heard of my father’s precautions. Master Tirone’s voice dropped to a more confidential tone. “Now, what’s this about an internment camp for healer or harper trying to contact his Hall? How are we supposed to work with such a foolish restriction on movement?”
    The healer eyed me with some consternation, for this smacked of criticism of the Lord Holder. I could not in conscience show any trace of my growing disgust, disillusionment, and distrust of my sire. And obviously I should not have overheard such sentiment.
    Then Desdra herself appeared from the far side of the Hall court, her face lighting with relief as she saw how burdened we were. “Lady Nerilka, I only asked for interim supplies.”
    “I recommend that you take as much as you can get before I am no longer in a position to help.”
    She did not question me, but I saw her eyes accept my words and the implications of my tone.
    “I renew my offer to nurse the sick, wherever and whoever they might be,” I said as firmly as I could as she took the sacks from my arms.
    “You must take your mother’s place here during this emergency, Lady Nerilka,” she said, her voice low and kind, her deep-set and expressive eyes conveying her sympathy and condolences. I had once thought the journeywoman too passive a practitioner, her manner too detached, but I had misjudged her. How could I tell her, now, that she mistook my measure and circumstances? Or had such a trivial matter as Anella’s arrival not percolated through to the two Halls?
    “How is Master Capiam?” I asked, before she could turn away.
    “He has nearly completed the course of the disease.” Desdra’s voice rippled with wry humor, and I detected a twinkle in her eyes. “He’s too ornery to die, and determined to find a cure for this plague. Thank you, Lady Nerilka”
    Our brief exchange had outlasted the audible conversations from the Harper Hall, so there was nothing for me to do but retrace my steps out of the court, with Sim trotting behind me. Poor Sim. I forget he has short legs and cannot match my long stride.
    “Sim, where is this internment camp of Lord Tolocamp’s?” I sought any excuse to avoid returning to the Hold for a little while. My anger was too sharp, my grief too fresh, my self-discipline nonexistent.
    Sim pointed to his right, where the great road south dips down into a small valley through a copse of trees. I walked far enough down the