Shards of Time by Lynn Flewelling Read Free Book Online Page B

and the others forward. “This is my wizard, Lord Thero of the Third Orëska, and his apprentice, Mika of Rhíminee. This is my friend, Lord Micum of Watermead, and these two fine gentlemenare the new masters of Mirror Moon: Barons Seregil and Alec.”
    “You’re most fortunate, my lords,” said Zella. “Mirror Moon is one of the prettiest estates on the island, and it’s been well maintained by your steward, a man named Dorin.”
    “Send word to have the house opened for them,” said Klia. “I want to inspect it at some point on behalf of the queen.”
    Their horses were brought for them, and they started off for the governor’s mansion. Scattered knots of people greeted Klia, who cut a fine figure on her favorite horse, Moonshine—an Aurënfaie stallion with a glossy night-black coat and silvery white mane and tail. Many of the former slaves fell to their knees, thanking Klia and tossing flowers. Elani might be queen, but it had been Klia who had purged the island and freed them.
    “Welcome back, Your Highness, and bless the Queen!” one old ’faie woman wept, holding up a small nosegay of spring wildflowers.
    However, Seregil noted that many of the townspeople were eyeing him with curiosity or outright hostility. Those of his own kind looked away, ashamed, he knew, for a countryman to see them in such a state. Unfair or not, living in slavery brought shame on an entire clan.
    As they rode through the streets it was also not lost on Seregil that there were few men among the well-wishers, and even fewer who appeared to have Plenimaran blood. Looking up, he saw faces at windows, and sensed the fear and uncertainty that underlay the welcome. Kouros had been in Plenimaran hands for several generations, and seeing a royal commander with soldiers was still cause for alarm, especially after Klia’s last visit.
    Deep Harbor was an old city, with a jumble of architectural styles from differing times and cultures. Children, dogs, and sheep scampered before their horses, and the breeze carried the smells of salt fish, smoke, seaweed, night soil, and foundry smoke. Many of the larger houses appeared to be empty, abandoned no doubt when Klia had routed the Plenimaran inhabitants.
    “The man who claims to have seen the spirit that night, is he still in your custody?” Klia asked as they rode along.
    “He awaits questioning, Your Highness,” Zella told her. “Though you’re not likely to get much sense out of him.”
    “But he’s not the one who’s mad, right?”
    “No. At least I don’t think so, but he was deeply shaken by the experience and has difficulty talking about it.”
    Klia nodded. “We shall see.”
    The governor’s villa was several centuries old, built during one of the many Plenimaran occupations. Three stories high, it was made of the native limestone. The main house was a large block, with square towers on either end and a steeply pitched roof. The lower windows were barred and a high wall surrounded the grounds, giving it the air of a garrison, which it in part was. There were stables, a large garden, wells, and some pasturage inside the curtain wall, and a line of barracks was built along one side, where Klia’s riders were to be billeted.
    Inside the house was more welcoming, with a great hall done in dark woods, and a huge fieldstone fireplace that would have fit a bull on a spit for roasting. A cheerful blaze crackled there now.
    Servants took their baggage and led them to their rooms. Seregil and Alec were given one at the front of the house, next to the one Klia and Thero would share. Micum’s lay just across the corridor, with a trundle bed for Mika. The furnishings in Alec and Seregil’s chamber were Plenimaran in style, with carved wooden shutters to fold around the bed and posts carved with what appeared to be demons or monsters of some sort. A fire crackled in the fireplace under a mantelpiece carved with mythic sea monsters. More sea beasts were painted in bands on the