hide him. This assassination has “Angarak” printed all over it, and
Ctuchik’s got prophecies of his own that’ll advise him that there’s
a survivor. The West’s going to be awash with Grolims before the
year’s out. The protection of that little boy is the most important
thing any of us are going to do right now.’
‘I’ll take care of it, father.’ Then I went back below decks to break
the news to the little prince.
He wept, of course, and I tried my best to comfort him.
A peculiar thought came to me as I held the sobbing little boy in
my arms. I don’t think I’d ever actually come to grips with a certain
stark reality. Mother was not born a human, and that quite clearly
meant that I was part wolf. Though I didn’t have paws, a shaggy
tail, or sharp teeth, I did have certain wolfish traits. Wolves are pack
animals, and they all share in the responsibility of caring for the
puppies, regardless of which particular female gave birth to them.
My comforting of this grieving, sandy-haired little boy was
instinctive, growing out of the need to protect the pack.
Once I’d come face to face with that fact, several decisions
followed automatically. I needed a safe, well-hidden den first of all.
Mother’s cottage would not serve that purpose. It was too exposed
and too many people knew where it was. Next, I needed a reliable
source of food. The answer, of course, was obvious. My rose-choked
manor house on Lake Erat had long since been forgotten, and it was
virtually invisible. Moreover, the grounds around it were fertile,
and I could easily grow vegetables among the rose bushes and
periodically drift out on silent wings at night to poach rabbits and
an occasional sheep. The manor house would provide safety and
food. Prince Geran might be a little wild and uncivilized when he
grew up, but at least he’d still be alive.
I also discovered that thinking wolfishly gave me a tremendous
amount of insight into mother’s character. Everything she’d done
~’even including her seeming desertion of my sister and me – had
been done to defend the pack.
413
,Naturally, Pol,’ her voice came to me out of nowhere. ‘Are you
only just now coming to realize that? You really ought to pay more
attention, you know.’
Geran was so overcome with grief that we didn’t really talk very
much during the two days we were at sea on our way to the coast
of Sendaria, but when we reached a cove some five miles north of
Camaar and went ashore, he pulled himself together enough to be
able to speak coherently with Brand. He asked the Rivan Warder
to take care of his people and to guard the Orb. Geran’s family has
always taken those two responsibilities very seriously, and despite
the fact that the boy had been far down the line of succession before
his entire family had been murdered, he’d clearly received
instruction in the important things.
After Brand left for Camaar to commandeer a crew for his return
voyage to the Isle, I spoke briefly with father, advising him of my
plan to hide my new charge at my manor house on Lake Erat. He
had objections, of course. Father always has objections when I tell
him that I’m going to do something. He should have saved his
breath, because, as always, I overrode his quibbles. You’d think that
after two thousand years he’d have learned not to try to tell me
what to do, but some people never learn, I guess.
Geran, his small face very serious, asked his ultimate grandfather
to chastise the Serpent Queen for murdering his family.
Then father left for Val Alorn to begin gathering forces for his
intended invasion of the land of the Snake People.
‘Where are we going, Aunt Pol?’ Geran asked me.
‘I have a house here in Sendaria, Geran,’ I told him. ‘We should
be safe there.’
‘Have you got lots of soldiers there?’
‘No, Geran. I don’t need soldiers in that particular place.’
‘Won’t that be sort of dangerous? What I mean is that the snake
lady probably still wants to kill me, and she’s got those people with
poisoned knives working for her. I’m not very big yet, so I couldn’t
really protect you from them.’
He was such a dear, serious little boy. I took him in my arms and
held him very close for a while, and I think we both rather liked
that. ‘Everything’s going to be all right, Geran,’ I assured him.
‘Nobody knows that the house is there, and it’s very hard to get to
it.’
‘Did you put a spell on it?’ he asked eagerly. Then he flushed
slightly. ‘That wasn’t very polite was it, Aunt Pol? I’ve heard all
kinds of stories about how you can do magic things – like casting
spells and turning people into frogs and like that – but you haven’t
given me permission to talk about those things, so I shouldn’t have
just come right out and said it that way, should I?’
‘It’s all right, Geran,’ I said. ‘We’re part of the same family, so we
don’t really have to stand on ceremony, do we? Let’s go back in
among the trees. This beach is right out in the open, and we do have
enemies out there looking for us.’
‘Whatever you say, Aunt Pol.’
We struck out from the beach in the general direction of Lake
sulturn, staying on the back roads and country lanes. I bought food
at an isolated farm house, and the young prince and I camped out
that first night. After the boy had fallen asleep in my arms, I started
to think about logistics. We hadn’t really covered very much ground
that day, and I definitely wanted to get further inland. That open
beach was just too close for my peace of mind.
I immediately dismissed the notion of ‘tampering’. Father’s
warning about Grolims was probably quite close to the mark, and
‘tampering’ makes a characteristic noise that would draw every Grolim
in Sendaria right to me. Geran was a sturdy little boy, but his legs
weren’t very long yet, so walking wasn’t getting us away from the
beach fast enough for my comfort. Obviously, we were going to
need a horse. I checked the purse I always keep tucked under my
clothing and found that I had adequate funds with me, so I sent
out a probing thought, searching for a farm of some size along the
road ahead. Fortunately, I found what I was looking for only a few
miles away.
I dozed from time to time during that long night. Under the
circumstances, a deep sleep might not have been a good idea. Then,
when dawn began to touch the eastern sky, I stirred up our small
fire and began cooking breakfast.
‘Good morning, Aunt Pol,’ Geran said when the smells of hot
food woke him. ‘I’m really hungry, you know?’
‘Little boys are always hungry, Geran.’
‘How far is it to your house?’
‘About ninety leagues – almost three hundred miles.’
MY feet are really sore, Aunt Pol. I’m not used to walking all
day.’
‘It’ll get easier in just a bit, Geran,’ I assured him. ‘There’s another
farm, just ahead. I’ll buy a horse there, and then we can ride.’
‘That’s a very good idea, Aunt Pol.’ He seemed quite enthusiastic.
There was one brief problem about that when wo rnnrhoa +bn fa~
‘lid I’d chosen the horse I wanted.
‘Ah – these are very old coins, ma’am,’ the farmer said dubiously.
‘I don’t think I’ve ever seen any quite so old.’
‘They’re part of my inheritance, good farmer,’ I lied quickly. ‘My
family’s a bit on the tight-fisted side, and once they get their hands
on a coin, they tend to keep it.’
‘That’s a commendable trait, but I don’t really know what these
are worth in today’s money.’
‘Silver’s silver, good farmer. It’s the weight that’s important, not
whose picture’s stamped on the front of the coin.’
‘Well – I suppose you’re right about that. Only
‘I’m really in a bit of a hurry, friend. My nephew and I absolutely
must get to Sulturn before the week’s out. Why don’t I just add
three of these coins to cover any possible difference in value?’
‘I wouldn’t want to cheat you, ma’am.’ In a very real sense, I’d
created the Sendarian character, and now it was coming back to
haunt me.
In the end, the honest farmer and I settled for two extra coins,
and I became the owner of a mottled grey horse named Squire. The
good farmer threw in an almost worn-out saddle, and Geran and I
prepared to leave. First, however, I had a talk with Squire, who
hadn’t been ridden all winter and who was feeling frisky. I took
him – firmly – by the chin and looked straight into his large eyes.