Fionavar 1 by The Summer Tree Read Free Book Online Page B

voice stripped of mockery, "as guest-friends of my father and myself. The home of Ailell is your home, your honor is ours. An injury done you is an injury to ourselves.
    And treason to the
    Oak Crown of the High King. Be welcome to Paras Derval. I will personally attend to your comfort
    for tonight." Only on the last phrase did the voice change a little, as the quick eyes, malicious and amused, flashed to Jennifer's.
    She flushed again, but he had already turned. "Gorlaes," he said softly, "your retainers appear to have collapsed. I have been told, in the few hours since I've been back from South Keep, of entirely too much drinking among them. I know it is a festival, but really . . . ?" And the tone was so mild, so very reproachful. Kevin fought to keep a straight face. "Coll," Diarmuid went on,
    "have four rooms made ready on the north side, please, and quickly."
    "No." It was Jennifer. "Kim and I will share. Just three." She resolutely avoided looking at the Prince. Kimberly, watching him, decided that his eyebrows went higher than they had any right to go.
    "We will, too," said Paul Schafer quietly. And Kevin felt his pulse leap. Oh, Abba, he thought, maybe this will do it for him. Maybe it will.
    "I'm too hot. Why is it so hot everywhere?" Metran, First of the Mages, asked, of no one in particular.
    The north side of the palace, opposite the town, overlooked a walled garden. When they were finally alone in their room Kevin opened the glass doors and stepped out onto a wide stone balcony.
    The moon, waning, was high overhead, bright enough to illuminate the shrubs and the few flowers below their room.
    "Not much of a garden," he commented, as Paul came out to join him.
    Page 21

    "There's been no rain, Diarmuid said."
    "That's true." There was silence. A light breeze had finally come up to cool the evening.
    "Have you noticed the moon?" Paul asked, leaning on the parapet.
    Kevin nodded. "Larger, you mean? Yes, I did. Wonder what effect that has?"
    "Higher tides, most likely."
    "I guess. And more werewolves."
    Schafer gave him a wry look. "I wouldn't be surprised. Tell me, what did you think about that business back there?"
    "Well, Loren and Diarmuid seem to be on the same side."
    "It looks that way. Matt's not very sure of him."
    "Somehow that doesn't surprise me."
    "Really. What about Gorlaes? He was pretty quick to call in the marines. Was he just following orders, or-"
    "Not a chance, Paul. I saw his face when Diarmuid made us guest-friends. Not happy, my friend."
    "Really?" Schafer said. "Well, that simplifies things at least. I'd like to know more about this Jaelle, though. And Diarmuid's brother, too."
    "The nameless one?" Kevin intoned lugubriously. "He of no name?"
    Schafer snorted. "Funny man. Yes, him."
    "We'll figure it out. We've figured things out before."
    "I know," said Paul Schafer, and after a moment gave a rare smile.
    "Oh, Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" came a plaintive cry from off to their left.
    They looked over. Kim Ford, languishing for all she was worth, swayed towards them from the next balcony. The leap was about ten feet.
    "I'm coming!" Kevin responded instantly. He rushed to the edge of their own balcony.
    "Oh, fly to me!" Kimberly trilled. Jennifer, behind her, began almost reluctantly to laugh.
    "I'm coming!" Kevin repeated, ostentatiously limbering up. "You two all right there?" he asked, in mid-flex. "Been ravished yet?"
    "Not a chance," Kim lamented. "Can't find anyone who's man enough to jump to our balcony."
    Kevin laughed. "I'd have to do it pretty fast," he said, "to get there before the Prince."
    "I don't know," Jennifer Lowell said, "if anyone can move faster than that guy."
    Paul Schafer, hearing the banter begin, and the laughter of the two women, moved to the far end of the balcony. He knew, very well, that the frivolity was only a release from tension, but it wasn't something to which he had access any more. Resting his own ringless, fine-boned hands on the railing, he