Saint Camber Read Online Free PDF Page A

vision. All of them looked far more solemn than he thought they had a right to be.
    â€œAll right, can you tell me now what it was? I feel fine, if a little weak, so I assume that the Great Healer took care of it. However, the lesser Healer has a little explaining to do. Rhys?”
    Rhys hooked a stool closer and settled on it. “Damaged kidney,” he said matter-of-factly. “Perforated spleen. Internal bleeding. Superficial muscle damage. Other than that, there was hardly anything wrong with you.” He cocked his head at Camber with a wistful look. “What I want to know is how you managed to stay on your feet so long.”
    â€œHow long did it take you to put things right?” Camber countered.
    â€œLong enough.” Rhys smiled. “You’re as good as new now, though—or will be when you’ve had some rest. Just don’t do it again. I might not be around next time.”
    â€œI’ll certainly try to avoid it.”
    Camber smiled and slid a hand into the hole in his robe where the wound had been. Only smooth skin met his touch—not even a tenderness.
    â€œWell, where were we?” he said, relaxing in his chair with a sigh.
    His daughter shook her head and sat back with relief, dropping one hand to rest on her brother’s shoulder as he settled in the rushes at her feet. Joram, for all that he was bloodstained and covered with bits of straw and rushes from his tussle with the assassin, somehow managed to convey an air of elegant competence now that the crisis was over. He looked his father squarely in the eyes.
    â€œWe were talking about your not being able to get along with Cinhil—since you refuse to consider the possibility of any other king.”
    â€œWrong: We were talking about Cinhil not being able to get along with me,” Camber corrected lightly. “As all of you know, I am a very easy person to get along with.”
    â€œWe also know,” Joram continued pointedly, “that Cinhil holds us, and you in particular, to blame for all the misfortunes which have befallen him since he left his abbey. He’ll use you as a scapegoat, Father.”
    â€œI suspect he will.”
    Cullen shifted uneasily in his chair. “I don’t wish to interfere in what is obviously a family argument, but can we worry about that facet a little later? In case you’d all forgotten—and I don’t mean to minimize your injury, Camber—but we have a war to fight, and the weather is rotten, and Jebediah and I have to be able to tell your men something besides ‘Things will work themselves out somehow.’”
    Camber sighed again and pursed his lips, making a steeple of his forefingers and studying them absent-mindedly.
    â€œSorry, Alister. Your point is well taken. Let’s table the Cinhil matter for the moment, since we’re not likely to resolve it by talking, anyway.”
    â€œThat’s more like it,” Cullen murmured.
    â€œAs for the invasion,” Camber continued, not looking at any of them in particular, “I think that there is something I can do, with your cooperation and assistance, to learn a great deal more about what Ariella is planning. Alister, I’m not sure you’d approve, so you’re excused, if you want to be.”
    Cullen sat back in his chair and looked sidelong at Camber.
    â€œAll right. What mischief have you been into this time? I know that tone, Camber.”
    Camber surveyed them all casually, only the gray eyes moving in the placid face. “It’s clean, I promise you. A power drain, and as complicated as anything I’ve ever attempted, but it can be done—at least, I think it can. Or rather, I know it can be done, and I think that I can do it.”
    â€œYou’ve never tried it, then?” Joram asked.
    â€œNo, it’s from an old manuscript called the Protocol of Orin. I found it with the original of the Pargan Howiccan senache that you were