Tears stung. And I didn’t even mind if Del knew it. “Did he make it here on his own?”
A voice other than Del’s answered the question. “No, he didn’t make it here on his own. I found him in Julah. Someone’s young daughter was riding him.”
I spun. Saw Neesha. Who grinned at me in a mixture of delight and triumph.
He answered the unspoken question. “My parents talked me into coming. They hired two men for the farm and told me to go on back to my lessons. Rasha wanted to come, but they said no.”
I felt a strange little lift in my heart. “They may have talked you into it, but is it where you want to be?”
After a moment of overdramatic consideration, he told me yes. “I’m only third level. And barely that. Besides, you’ll need help with the students.”
“I apparently don’t have any students at the moment, remember?”
“Two,” he said. “Besides me. Eddrith and Darrion.”
“Who?—oh. Those two from Istamir.”
Neesha nodded. “Eddrith says you owe him a sparring dance.”
I had some memory of that.
“Darrion says his grandmother sent him.”
And I definitely remembered that grandmother: sharp-tongued Tamar.
“They’ve taken one of the little houses by mine.”
My grin was slow, but huge. “Then go get them. We’ll all drink ale.”
Del’s tone was elaborately resigned. “Sula wants to eat. It appears that once again the woman must do the work while the men drink spirits.”
Neesha went off to gather Eddrith and Darrion. Smiling like a fatuous fool, I began a comfortable stroll down to the pool where Alric, and Alric’s ale, waited.
Del’s voice followed. “Save some for me!”