"Sir?" asked Doctor BreDelle. The Protector's other companions, all army officers, looked on, concerned.
"The boy," UrLeyn said quietly to the doctor. "I knew I should not have left him, or should have had you stay with him, Doctor…"
BreDelle stared at him for a moment. "How poorly is he?"
"At death's door," UrLeyn said, looking down at the letter. He handed the letter to the doctor, who read it.
"Another seizure," he said. BreDelle dabbed at his mouth with his napkin. "Shall I return to Crough, sir? I can start at first light."
The Protector stared down the table at nothing for a moment. Then he seemed to rouse himself. "Yes, Doctor. And I shall come too." The Protector looked apologetically at the other officers. "Gentlemen," he said, raising his voice and straightening his back. "I must ask you to continue on to Ladenscion without me, for the moment. My son is unwell. I hoped that I would contribute to our eventual victory as soon as you will, but I fear that even if I were to continue, my heart, and my attention, would still be drawn back to Crough. I regret that the glory will be yours, unless you contrive to extend the war. I will join you as soon as I can. Please forgive me, and indulge the fatherly weakness of a man who, at my age, should really be a grandfather."
"Sir, of course!"
"I'm sure we all understand, sir."
"We will do all we can to make you proud of us, sir."
The protestations of support and understanding went on. DeWar looked round the young, eager, earnest faces of the junior noblemen gathered round the banqueting table with a feeling of dread and foreboding.
"Perrund? Is that you?"
"It is, young sir. I thought I'd come and sit by you."
"Perrund, I can't see."
"It is very dark. The doctor thinks you will better recover kept away from the light."
"I know, but still I cannot see. Hold my hand, will you?"
"You must not worry. Illness seems so terrible when you are young, but these things pass."
"Will it?"
"Of course."
"Will I be able to see again?"
"Of course you will. Have no fear."
"But I am frightened."
"Your uncle has written to your father, telling him of your condition. I imagine he will be coming home soon, in fact I'm sure of it. He will give you some of his strength. He will drive away all fear. You'll see."
"Oh no! But he should be at the war. I am bringing him home when he should be at the war, to win it for us."
"Calm yourself, calm yourself. We could not keep your illness from him. What would he have thought of us? He will want to be sure that you are well. He will want to see you. I imagine he will bring Doctor BreDelle with him, too."
"And Mr DeWar?"
"And Mr DeWar. Where your father goes, he follows."
"I can't remember what happened. What day is it?"
"It is the third of the old moon."
"What happened? Did I start to shake as I did at the shadow-players" show?"
"Yes. Your teacher said he thought you were trying to get out of learning mathematics when you fell off your seat. He ran to get the nurse and then Doctor AeSimil was sent for. He is doctor to your uncle RuLeuin and General YetAmidous and very good. Very nearly as good as Doctor BreDelle. He says you will be better, in good time."
"Does he?"
"He does. And he seems a most honest and trustworthy soul."
"Is he better than Doctor BreDelle?"
"Oh, Doctor BreDelle must be better, because he is your father's doctor, and your father deserves to have the best, for the good of all of us."
"Do you really think he will come back?"
"I am sure of it."
"Will you tell me a story?"
"A story? I'm not sure I know any."
"But everybody knows stories. Didn't you used to be told stories when you were little?… Perrund?"
"Yes. Yes, I'm sure I was. Yes, I have a story."
"Oh good… Perrund?
"Yes. Well. Let me see. Once upon a time… once upon a time there was a little girl."
"Yes?"
"Yes. She was rather an ugly child, and her parents did not like or care for her at all."
"What was her name??
"Her name? Her name was… Dawn."
"Dawn. That's a pretty name."
"Yes. Unfortunately she was not very pretty, as I have said. She lived in a town she hated with parents she loathed. They made her do all sorts of things they thought she ought to do, which she hated, and they kept her locked up a lot of the time. They forced her to wear rags and sacking, they refused to buy her shoes for her feet or ribbons for her hair and they did not let her play with the other children. They never told her any stories at all."
"Poor Dawn!"
"Yes, she was a poor thing, wasn't she? She would cry herself to sleep most nights, and pray to the old gods or appeal to Providence to deliver her from such unhappiness. She wished that she could escape from her parents, but because they kept her locked up she could not. But then one day the fair came to town, with players and stages and tents and jugglers and acrobats and fire-breathers and knife-throwers and strong men and dwarves and people on stilts and all their servants and performing animals. Dawn was fascinated by the fair and wanted to see. it and be made happy by it, for she felt that she had no life at all where she was, but her parents hid her away. They did not want her to have fun watching all the wonderful acts and shows, and they were worried that if people saw that they had such an ugly child they would make fun of them and perhaps even tempt her to leave to become an exhibit in their freaks of nature show."
"Was she really that ugly?"
"Perhaps not quite that ugly, but still they didn't want her to be seen, so they hid her away in a secret place they had fashioned in their house. Poor Dawn cried and cried and cried. But what her parents did not know was that the people of the fair always sent some of their performers round the houses in the town, to do little acts of kindness, or to help out with chopping kindling, or to clean up a yard, so that people would feel beholden to them and go and see the fair. They did this in Dawn's town, and of course her parents, being very mean, could not pass up the opportunity to have some work done for free.
"They invited the performers into their house and had them tidy it all up, though of course it was quite tidy already because Dawn had done most of the work. While they were cleaning the house, and even leaving little presents behind, for these were very kind and generous performers — a clown, I think, and a fire-breather and a knife-thrower-they heard poor Dawn crying in her secret prison, and they released her and made her happy by their antics, and were very kind to her. She felt appreciated and loved for the first time, and tears of joy rolled down her face. Her bad parents had hidden themselves in the cellar, and later on they ran away, embarrassed at having been so cruel to Dawn.
"The performers from the fair gave Dawn her life back. She even started to feel not so ugly, and was able to dress better than her parents had let her dress, and feel clean and good. Perhaps, she thought, she was not destined to be ugly and unhappy all her life, as she had imagined. Perhaps she was beautiful and her life would be full of happiness. Somehow just being with the performers made her feel pretty, and she started to realise that they had made her beautiful, that she had only been ugly because people had told her she was ugly and now she was not. It was like magic.
"Dawn decided that she wanted to join the fair and go with the performers, but they told her sadly that they could not let her do that because if they did then people might think that they were the sort of people who took little girls away from their families, and their good name would suffer. They told her she ought to stay and look for her parents. She saw the sense of what they were telling her, and because she felt strong and capable and alive and beautiful, she was able to wave goodbye to the fair when it left and all the kind performers went away to take their happiness and kindness to another town. And do you know what?"