Exile's Children by Angus Wells Read Free Book Online

could feed, but still the clans gave them shelter. They were a sorry lot—the Whaztaye are not like you Matawaye, but farmers and hunters, without much skill in battle—and their sole baggage was sad stories. They sent some of their chieftains and holy men into the hills, to bring the tale to us, and I tell you, in the name of the Maker, the tale was doleful.” He broke off abruptly as Lhyn touched his thigh.
    â€œI must clean this,” she said. “Take off your breeches.”
    Colun swallowed. “A pinprick, nothing worse.” Morrhyn thought he blushed, though it was hard to tell on a face so flinty.
    Lhyn said, “Made by a very large pin. Now, shall you remove these leathers, or must I ask my husband and Morrhyn hold you down and I do it?”
    Colun studied her defiantly awhile and found no retreat in her gaze. Had Morrhyn time for laughter, he would have chuckled at the Grannach’s expression.
    â€œWell?” Lhyn asked.
    â€œIn the Maker’s name!” Colun fumbled, awkward with his bandaged hand, at his belt buckle, grumbling all the while. “I had notthought the women of the Matawaye so forward. Were you my wife …”
    â€œYou’d likely obey swifter,” Lhyn said, and knelt to remove the Grannach’s boots. “Ach, think you you’re the first man I’ve seen without his breeches? Or the first I’ve tended? Now …”
    She frowned as the wound was exposed. It seemed a lance had pierced Colun’s thigh. The cut was deep and lipped with swollen purple flesh, crusted with old blood. Lhyn muttered something too low for the men to hear and filled a bowl with steaming water into which she sprinkled herbs. “This,” she murmured, “will likely hurt somewhat.”
    â€œIn which case …” Colun downed a cup of tiswin and readied another. Then, as if to hide his embarrassment: “Where was I?”
    â€œThe Whaztaye sent a delegation,” Racharran prompted.
    Morrhyn saw the akaman shared his own impatience—and the same resignation.
    â€œYes. Ach!” Colun stiffened as Lhyn began to wash the ugly wound. “So, they sent a delegation of their chiefs and holy men to the hills. Like you, they’ve a gate-place where the Maker brought them to their land, and where, like you, they meet with us. This, however, was not the time, and they said they waited there full half a passing of the moon before my people noticed them. They were very hungry when we came, but even more intent on telling their tale than eating. Which reminds me of my own hunger.”
    His bushy brows rose in question, like two caterpillars arching their hairy backs on a stone.
    Lhyn said, “Soon. Let me first finish this, and then I’ll see your belly filled.”
    Colun mumbled something that sounded like “Women!” then promptly smiled an apology as Lhyn glanced up, saying, “Forgive me, but your culinary skills are legend, and the scent of that meat whets my appetite so keen.”
    Lhyn snorted and set to plastering the wound with salve. The Grannach looked disappointed, and then, almost reluctantly, resumed his tale.
    â€œYes, they told their story, which was most disturbing.… They spoke of their people—those who lived—fleeing in great numbers out of the west, driven in panic and disarray before a dreadful army. All their land, they said, was riven by this horde, which none of their seers or holy men had foretold. They spoke of awful slaughter and asked our help. They asked that we should take their defenseless ones into our tunnels and send our warriors to join in battle against the horde.” He paused, frowning as if even now he marveled at the request. “In all our history,none have asked this of us; it was a thing that seemed defiance of the Will. It was a thing we debated amongst ourselves.”
    He shook his head, his frown deepening. Morrhyn wondered how long that