"She said she wants to deal with her father, so she's not chased anymore. She said she'd be back after she did that."
"So she intends to go to Wikuna."
Tarrin nodded. "I have the feeling that Damon Eram is going to have a very bad summer."
Dolanna chuckled. "I would have to agree, dear one. Keritanima seems to me to be a very spiteful woman. She will not make her father's life in any way easier for her presence."
"There is nothing wrong with vengeance," Allia said. "It is a demand of honor to repay blow for blow, blood for blood, and eye for eye. She will only be giving back to her father what he has inflicted upon her. That is fitting."
"Very fitting," Tarrin agreed.
"I just hope that it is not too much for her," Dolanna sighed. "She may be good at intrigue, but her father has much more experience. That he still sits on the throne is a testament to his ability. She will find in him her ultimate adversary."
"She will make us proud," Allia said confidently.
"I hope so," Tarrin yawned. "If you two don't mind, I'd like to take a nap. I'm feeling pretty tired."
"Certainly," Dolanna said. "You rest, Tarrin. The more you rest, the quicker you will recover. Come, Allia. Let us go downstairs and fetch Dar. We have instruction to give him."
"Yes, Dolanna," Allia said obediently. She leaned down and kissed Tarrin on the forehead, then rose up and gave him one of her glorious smiles. "I'll forgive you for not telling me sooner," she said with a wink. "Good sleep, my brother."
"Thanks," he said dryly, and then the two women filed quietly out the door.
Tarrin snuggled down against his pillows. It was good to hear from Keritanima, so good that he felt as if a great weight had been taken off his chest. He now knew, beyond any doubt, that she was well, and the others were well, and that she seemed to have control of the situation. Somewhat, anyway, but that was better than having none. He could go to sleep knowing fully that his beloved sister, as dear to him as his own blood sister, Jenna, was really and truly going to be alright.
In more ways than one. She was going to go back to Wikuna and stand up to her father. She could finally exorcise the demons of her childhood, and put it all behind her. She would come back a better woman, a healed woman, and he looked forward to looking into those beautiful amber eyes and not seeing the tight defensiveness in them that came from her horrid childhood. She would come back, and when she did, she would be whole.
It felt like he was a chick leaving a nest.
Tarrin stood at the door to his room, the room that had been his entire world for nearly eleven days. Triana held onto his arm gently, not supporting him but ready in case his knees faltered. She had finally pronounced him well enough to leave his room.
Standing beside his new bond-mother reminded him about how majestic she was. Taller than him by nearly a head, having to look up at her seemed to reinforce her authority over him. Tarrin wasn't used to looking up at people. Only Azakar, Binter, and Sisska, but all three of them were with Keritanima. But it was more than her height. Her posture, her stance, the very way she moved, they all radiated raw, unmitigated power. There was nothing that Triana did that didn't remind the looker that she was stronger, wiser, and much better than them, and that was alot of what made her so thoroughly intimidating. But eleven days of seeing her softer, more nurturing side had taken alot of the edge off that intimidation to him. She was still in total command of him, but he could look past her gruff exterior and see the tender woman that lurked beneath her hard shell. He didn't fear her anymore, like he had at first. He had a tremendous amount of respect for her, and he'd started to develop real affection for her, beyond the trusting sense of love he felt for her in her role as his foster parent.
Tarrin hesitated at the doorway, adjusting the soft linen shirt she'd given to him. He had an extra layer of bandage over the wound, in case his moving opened the wound, and it didn't like it when he bent in certain ways. He had to keep his chest and stomach aligned, and it throbbed whenever he bent forward. Just standing was a supreme effort, but he was determined to go down into the common room. Triana wasn't one to keep someone in a bed longer than they needed to be there, and she'd told him the day before that extended bedrest could be good, but it also let the body weaken in other ways. She told him that a good, quick recovery depended on the proper balance of quiet rest and limited activity, rehabilitating the injured areas while preventing everything else from atrophying. It took nearly everything he had to stand up by himself, or walk, but he wasn't going to be imprisoned in his room by his own weakness. Triana said he could leave it, so he meant to leave it.
"Just take it slow, cub," Triana warned as she opened the door. "This isn't a horse race. We have all month."
"I'm going about as fast as I can go, Triana," he assured her as he took a ginger step out into the hallway. It was carpeted and decorated with several tapestries and paintings, and even had a couple of narrow tables and plush uphostered chairs along the sides of the hallway. Dolanna had told him that they were in the Golden Eagle Inn, a very pricy upper-class establishment, which had been completely emptied out of everyone else. Tarrin and his friends were the only patrons, and the doors had been closed to everyone else. Triana had paid for it, and it was her gold that fed their entire group and kept the inn exclusively theirs. Tarrin wondered just how much money someone could amass over a thousand years, because to rent the entire inn at the start of the busy summer season had to be dreadfully expensive.
The hardest part was the stairs. Carpeted stairs with ornate brass candle holders along the panelled walls. Seventeen steps, and each one was a challenge to Tarrin's knees not to falter. He leaned heavily on Triana's arm as he negotiated the steps, carefully putting a foot down and shifting his weight, then repeating the process until his foot set down on the landing. It opened into a large hallway, and Triana pointed away from the large double doors, towards the inn's largest dining room.
He wondered how Dolanna was making out. She was visiting Renoit, who had agreed to remain in Shoran's Fork until Tarrin was fit enough to travel again. He hadn't been that hard to convince, Dolanna had mused after she told him about it, because the citizens of the two cities were flocking to his circus tent and paying him handsomely. Renoit wouldn't mind staying so long as the customers continued to flock to the performances. Today, she was over at the circus keeping in touch, notifying Renoit as to Tarrin's condition, and the estimated time that they would leave. As of that moment, Triana maintained that it would be about a month before he was fit enough to mend on his own. She told him he wouldn't be totally recovered for two months. Tarrin fervently hoped they could time that to coincide with them docking in Dala Yar Arak. They couldn't afford to just sit around while others were getting closer and closer to the Firestaff, and he could mend laying in a bunk on the ship just as easily as he could laying in the feather bed in his room. The sticking point had been convincing Triana of that. She wouldn't go with him, she had already made that clear, but she wouldn't let him go until he had healed to a certain point, when she was positive that no complications would arise during his mending.
They entered the dining room's large open doorway, and he found himself looking at a richly decorated chamber with a polished hardwood floor and a huge table of burnished mahogany. Silver candelabras sat at carefully measured stations along its length, and each of the large, padded chairs had a china setting placed before it. Elegant, shiny bone china, some of the very expensive kind from Telluria. His mother, Elke, had a set of that Tellurian china, which she had kept packed in barrels in the basement of their Aldreth home. He had no idea where it was now, but he was sure it wasn't far from his mother. She valued that china almost as much as she valued her husband. The funny thing was, she never used it. That had always driven him crazy. Why keep something you never use? It just didn't make sense.