"Seregil hasn't ridden all this way just to have you hang on him like a burr."
Undeterred, Illia peered over Seregil's shoulder at Alec. "Is this the brave boy who saved Father from the bandits?"
"It is indeed," Seregil answered, pulling Alec forward with his free hand. "Alec's the best archer in the whole entire world, and he shot two enormous swans on the way here especially for your mother. They're outside on his saddle if your dogs haven't eaten them already. He's come to learn sword fighting from your father and Beka, but I'm certain he'll be a fine playfellow for you, in between lessons. You may have him for a week if you promise not to maul him to death. What do you say to that?"
Looking over at Kari, Seregil answered her look of relief with a wink.
"Oh, he's handsome!" Illia exclaimed, climbing down to take Alec's hand. "You're almost as handsome as Uncle Seregil. Can you sing and play the harp like he does?"
"Well, I can sing," Alec admitted as the little girl hauled him toward the hearth.
"Let the poor boy catch his breath before you take at him," her mother chided. "Run out to the stable and fetch your father and sisters. Scat!"
With a last beaming smile for Alec, Illia dashed off.
"Come and sit down by the fire, both of you," Kari said, motioning for her women to make room. "Arna, find some dinner for our friends, and see that a fire's laid in the guest chamber."
The eldest serving woman nodded and disappeared out a side door; the other women retired to a smaller fire at the back of the hall. Turning to Alec, Kari took his hands in hers.
"You're welcome in our home, Alec of Kerry," she said warmly. "Micum told us about the ambush in Folcwine Wood. I owe you a great deal."
"He's done as much for me," Alec replied, feeling awkward. Just then, however, Micum burst in with Illia on one shoulder and an older girl in tow. In his woolen breeches and leather vest he looked every inch the country squire.
"Well, this is a happy surprise!" he cried. "The little jackdaw here says Alec's looking for a real swordsman."
Swinging Illia down, he clasped hands with the two of them. "Beka will be in as soon as she cleans up. One of her mares had a bad foaling this afternoon."
Drawing the older girl to his side, he said, "And this quiet one here is Elsbet, the family beauty."
Elsbet touched Alec's hand in a quick greeting.
Dark hair framed a face very like her mother's, soft and gentle.
"Welcome to Watermead," she murmured, her hand trembling against his for an instant. Blushing to match Alec, she hastily sat down by her mother.
"You must be thirsty after your ride," Kari said, giving Seregil a mischievous look. "If I know you, you talked the whole way. Would you dare sample this season's beer? For once I think it's almost fit to drink."
Micum nudged Alec playfully as she went out.
"This is the first season since we came south that I've seen her satisfied with her beer. Mind you, she's the finest brewer in the valley, but she's never left off saying that northern hops give a finer taste."
"I think I've heard her mention it a few times," Seregil concurred wryly. "Illia, do you think you could fetch my saddlebags there by the door?"
The little girl's eyes went round. "Presents?"
"Who knows?" he teased. "But here's Beka at last."
A tall girl in a stained tunic and breeches burst in, her face lit by an expectant smile.
"Any news, Seregil?" she cried, stooping to hug him.
"Patience, Beka. At least say hello to Alec first."
Of all the girls, Beka alone had taken after her father. Freckles peppered her fair skin, and an unkempt mare's tail of coppery red hair tumbled over her shoulder as she leaned forward to clasp hands with Alec. She had rather too much of her father's features to be beautiful, but her sharp blue eyes and ready smile would never let her be called homely either.
"Father says you're quite an archer," she said, looking him over in friendly appraisal. "I hope you brought that bow of yours. I've never seen a Black Radly."
"It's there by the door," Alec replied, suddenly more at ease than he'd been since their arrival.
"Here they are!" Illia puffed, dragging the saddlebags over to Seregil. "Did you remember what I asked you for?"
"Illia, you beggar!" her mother scolded, returning with a pitcher and mugs.
"Why don't you reach in and see what's there while I try your mother's excellent beer?" Seregil suggested, taking a long sip. "Sheer delight, Kari. Better than that served at the royal table of Mycena."
Alec sampled his own and didn't doubt Seregil's sincerity, though Kari obviously did.
"Well, it's better than last year's," she allowed.
Illia, meanwhile, had worried open the first bag.
"These must be for Beka," she said, pulling out a pair of glossy cavalry boots. "She's going to be a horse guard."
"A rider in the Queen's Horse Guard," Beka corrected, looking hopefully at Seregil.
Micum shook his head in mock despair. "We haven't had a moment's peace since she heard you were back."
Seregil drew a scroll case from his coat and presented it to her. Prying off the seal, she shook out the papers inside and scanned quickly down through them, her grin broadening by the second.
"I knew you could do it!" she cried, giving Seregil another exuberant hug. "Look, Mother, I'm to report in a week's time!"
"There's not a finer regiment," Kari said, slipping an arm about Beka's shoulders. "And think how much quieter it will be without you crashing in and out!"
As Beka sat down to try on the new boots, Micum reached to take his wife's hand; her smile did not match the sudden misting of her eyes.
"She's your daughter, right enough," Kari sighed, clasping his hand tightly.
Illia burrowed deeper, finding a tobacco pouch for Micum and a larger bag for her mother.
"Oh, Seregil, you needn't have—"
Kari began, then broke off as she pulled out a handful of papery hop cones and a knot of wizened roots.
"Cavish hops!" she cried, holding the cones to her nose. "This brings my father's hop yard back to me as if I were standing in it! All the cuttings I brought with me here died out years ago. Oh, Seregil, how good of you to think of it. Someday perhaps I'll be able to brew a proper beer again."
Seregil saluted her with his cup. "I want to be the first to broach a keg of the batch that pleases you."
Rescuing a finely bound book from Illia's impatient pillaging, he handed it to Elsbet.
"The dialogs of Tassis!" the girl breathed, examining the cover. Any trace of shyness fled as she opened the volume and ran a finger down the first page. "And in Aurлnfaie! Where did you ever find it?"
"I'd rather not say. But if you look toward the middle, I think you'll find something else of interest."
Elsbet's eyes widened as she drew out a small square of parchment and read Nysander's invitation to visit at her earliest convenience.
"Someone must have mentioned your interest in the Orлska library to him," Seregil said, affecting innocence.
Torn between terror and delight, Elsbet stammered, "I wouldn't know what to say to him."
"He's pretty easy to talk to," Alec told her. "After a few minutes you feel as if you've known him all your life."
Elsbet returned to her book, blushing more hotly than ever.
"Uncle!" Illia rocked back on her heels with an indignant look. "There's nothing else in here!"
"And my lady supposes herself forgotten! Give me your kerchief and climb up in Alec's lap.
Don't be shy—he has lovely young ladies sitting on his lap all the time. You're quite used to it, aren't you, Alec?"