Though I cannot tell Dom Carlo, nor his friend, how I know the child has laran….
She went to the stables attached to the monastery, finding the horses in good hands; spoke briefly to the stablemen about care for their horses, and tipped them, as was proper, with the generous amount of silver and copper Orain had given her for their expenses. After the encounter with young Caryl, she was on her guard, but none of the stablefolk paid any attention to her; one and all they accepted her as what she was, just another apprentice in the train of the young nobleman staying in the monastery. Then she went in search of Dom Carlo, to deliver her warning. In the rooms assigned to them in the guest-house, however, she found only Orain, mending his crudely-sewn boots.
He looked up as she came in.
“Is anything gone wrong with birds or beasts, then, lad?”
“No, they are all doing well,” Romilly said, “Forgive me for intruding in your leisure, but I must see Dom Carlo.”
“You can’t see him now, or for some time,” said Orain, “for he’s closeted with Father Abbot, and I don’t think he’s confessin’ his sins – he’s no cristoforo. Can I do anything for ye’, boy? There’s no great urgency to work, now the birds are cared for and in good health – take time to see some of the city, and if ye need an excuse, I’ll send you out on an errand; you can take these boots to be mended.” He held them out to her, saying with a droll grin, “They’re beyond my skill.”
“I will do your errand gladly,” Romilly said, “but indeed I have an important message for Dom Carlo. He-you-you are Carolin’s men, and I have just heard that – that someone who knows the king by sight, and might also know some of his Councillors, is here in the monastery. Lyondri Hastur’s son, Caryl.”
Orain’s face changed and his lips pursed in a soundless whistle. “Truly? The whelp of that wolf is here, poisoning their minds against my lord?”
“The boy is but twelve,” protested Romilly, “and seems a nice child; he spoke well of the king, and said he had always been kind – but he might know him.”
“Aye,” said Orain grimly, “No doubt; a new-hatched serpent can sting like an old snake. Still, I know no evil of the child; but I’ll not let Alaric know he is here, or he might let son pay for son – if he saw the Hastur-Lord’s son, I doubt he could keep his hands from his throat, and I know well how he feels. My lord must know of this, and quickly.”
“Would Caryl recognize Dom Carlo, too? Was he around the court so much? Dom Carlo is-” she hesitated, “Is he not one of Carolin’s kin?”
“He’s of the Hastur-kin,” said Orain, nodding. He sighed.
“Well, I’ll keep an eye out for the child, and put a word in Dom Carlo’s ear. It was thoughtful of you to warn me, Rumal, lad; I owe you one for that.” As if dismissing the thought deliberately, he bent and picked up the much-patched boots. ‘Take these into the city – and lest you get lost, I’ll come along and show you the way.”
He linked his arm carelessly through Romilly’s as they went out of the monastery guest-house and down through the streets of the old town. The mountain air was biting and cold, and Romilly drew her cloak tighter about her, but Orain, though he wore only a light jacket, seemed comfortable and at ease.
“I like the mountain ah-,” he said, “I was born in the shadow of High Kimbi, though I was fostered on the shores of Hali; and still I think myself a mountain man. What of you?”
“I Was born in the Kilghard Hills, but north of the Kadarin,” Romilly said.
“The country around Storn? Aye, I know it well,” Orain said, “No wonder you have hawks in your blood; so have I.” He laughed, ruefully. “Though you’re my master at that; I had never held a sentry-bird before, nor will I think myself ill-used if I never set hand on one again.” They turned into the doorway of a shop, smelling strongly of leather and tan-bark and rosin. The bootmaker raised supercilious eyebrows at the patched old boots in Orain’s hand, but quickly changed his tone when Orain took out his pocket and laid down silver and even copper.