Saint Camber by Katherine Kurtz Read Free Book Online Page B

realm could turn threatening if one did not pay proper attention to what one was doing. He had checked his source document again, while he prepared the room, and the author had made the need for prudence abundantly clear.
    But the prime consideration was precision, and the necessity for great concentration and a steady outpouring of energy. The results could be unsettling to anyone not anticipating all aspects, but Camber knew he would have ample support from those assisting him. There would be no faintheartedness from those four.
    Their images flashed before him in the flames as he thought about them, and he allowed himself to dwell on each one lovingly: Evaine and Rhys, beloved daughter and new-found son, fearless and above reproach; Joram—not his first-born or even his eldest son, but the only son of his body now alive, dear because of his stubborn differences, not despite them; and Alister Cullen, gruff and often cynical, a former adversary but now a respected colleague and friend, even if he was sometimes suspicious of the magic which they wielded.
    He yawned and stretched luxuriously, the scarlet velvet of his sleeve catching his attention in the firelight. He wondered again why the document required that he wear red for the operation he was going to try, remembering the look on Guaire’s face earlier in the afternoon when he had asked the young man to search the wardrobe of the former king for just such a garment. The feel of the velvet against his body gave him a sense of comfort as he stood and moved quietly toward the door to the corridor. He opened it before the two outside could even knock.
    Rhys and Evaine passed to the fireplace without a word as Camber bolted the door, the Healer settling onto a stool while Evaine curled up on the fur at his feet, her arms cradling something bulky and awkward in its wrappings beneath her cloak.
    Camber moved back to his chair, but stood with one hand resting lightly on the back as he gazed down at his daughter.
    â€œAre the others on their way?”
    Evaine nodded and began unwrapping the bundle in her lap, letting her cloak fall back from her shoulders in the warmth of the fire.
    â€œJoram officiated at Vespers tonight, and Cinhil wanted to speak with him afterwards. Father Cullen is waiting for him in the sacristy. Will this bowl suit our purposes?”
    Firelight flickered mellow and warm on the silver as she withdrew the bowl from its wrappings and put it into her father’s hands, flashing quicksilver into Camber’s eyes momentarily as he gazed at his distorted reflection.
    â€œIt’s perfect.”
    He set it carefully on a chest near the door to the dressing chamber, very much aware of their eyes following his every move as he returned to the fireplace.
    Rhys coughed gently to engage his attention.
    â€œCan you tell us what you’re planning now, or must we wait for the others?”
    â€œI’d rather not have to explain it twice, if you don’t mind.”
    They waited, Camber outwardly assuming an air of relaxation but inwardly vaguely uneasy over the delay. Finally he heard the muffled tread of footsteps approaching, and waved Rhys back to his seat as he himself went to the door. His hands were moving the latch even as the first faint knock sounded on the other side.
    â€œSorry we’re late,” Joram murmured as he and Cullen slipped through the opening which Camber permitted. “Cinhil detained us. I brought your incense.”
    â€œThank you. Alister, were you able to get what I asked for?”
    As Camber latched the door, Cullen reached into his habit and pulled out a lumpily folded packet of cloth, which he handed to Camber.
    â€œIt wasn’t as easy as you thought. Some of the specific items you mentioned weren’t there. Ariella may have taken them with her, or they’re already being worn by the queen. I hope this one will do.”
    Camber sat in his chair and began unfolding the packet. Cullen,