Hawkmistress! A DARKOVER NOVEL by Marion Zimmer Bradley

“It wasn’t your fault.”

“Father Master says whatever happens to us is always our fault, one way or another,” said the child, keeping his voice low, “If we have not deserved it in this life, we have certainly done so in another. If it is good we have earned it and may enjoy it, but if it is bad, we must also believe that somehow we have deserved the bad too, and it is not always easy to know which is which. I am not sure what that means,” he added naively, “but he said I would understand when I was older.”

“Then I must be very young too,” said Romilly, unable to keep back a laugh – talking elevated cristoforo philosophy on this dangerous road, with the king’s men, for all they knew, hard at their heels! “For I confess I do not understand it at all.”

Orain heard the laugh; he pulled his horse aside and waited for them to come up with bun, where the path widened just a fraction. “Are you awake, young Caryl?”

“I wasn’t asleep,” the boy protested, scowling, “Somebody hit me!”

‘True,” said Orain seriously, “And he has heard about it, believe me, from Dom Carlo. But now, I fear, you must ride with us to Caer Donn; you cannot possibly return alone over this road. I would have trusted you not to betray us willfully, but I know from old that Lyondri has laran and might read in your thoughts which way we had gone. I give you my word, which, unlike your father, I have never broken, that when we reach Caer Donn you will be sent back to him under a flag of truce. He-” with an eloquent shrug of his caped shoulder, he indicated Dom Carlo, riding ahead, “wishes you no ill. But in this company I should warn you to guard your tongue.”

“My lord-” Caryl began, but Orain gave a slight, warning shake of his head, and said quickly, “If you would be more comfortable riding behind me, you may, when we have gotten through this path; this is no place to stop and change horses. Or if you will give me the word of a Hastur that you will not try to flee from us, I will arrange it that one of the pack-animals can carry you, and you may ride alone.”

“Thank you,” the boy said, “but I would rather stay with-” he paused and swallowed and said, “with Rumal.” She was astonished at his presence of mind; no other youngster, she was sure, could have remembered, even in this extremity, not to blurt out her secret.

“Ride carefully, then,” Orain said, “and guard him well, Rumal.” He turned back to his own riding, and Romilly, settling Caryl as comfortably as she could in front of her – it would indeed be easier if he could sit behind her and hang on, but there was no way to stop and change now – reflected that he had protected her even when he had nothing to gain by keeping her secret, and when he might have made trouble among his captors. An unusual youngster indeed, and cleverer than Rael, disloyal as she felt to her own little brother to think so.

He knew she was a woman. Though, she had thought sometimes that Dom Carlo knew and kept his counsel for his own reasons, whatever they were. And then, for the first time – so swiftly had affairs moved since she was awakened – she remembered Orain’s exact words when he came seeking her. Is Carlo with you? This is no time for modesty! Had Carlo, then, confided to Orain – or been told by him, perhaps? – that he knew her a woman, and, knowing that, did he think her such a woman as might be free of her favors, so that he might have found Carlo in her bed? Even in the bitter cold, Romilly felt the hot flush of shame on her cheeks. Well, riding with them in men’s clothes, what sort of woman could he think her?

Well, if he knew, he knew, and if he thought that of her, he must think what he liked. At least he had been gentleman enough not to spread it among these roughnecks. But she had begun to like Orain so much!

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