The Luck of Brin's Five by Cherry; Wilder Read Free Book Online Page A

.” Tewl’s eyes were luminous in the dusk. “Say nothing even to your nearest kin. Do not betray our trust.”
    â€œBelieve me, Highnesses,” murmured Harper Roy, “I speak for us all and say we will not breathe one word out of place in this matter.”
    â€œHighness . . .” I plucked Tewl gently by the mantle.
    â€œIs it not possible that a foreign race might be our friends? They may resemble us in form? They may pass among us and join with us, like Moruians indeed?”
    â€œI pray it may be so, dear child,” said Tewl. Her voice was sweet and brittle. She took from her finger a little ring of silver, made like a rope, with a blue brilliant on the knot, and slipped it onto my finger. I blushed and kissed her cool hand.
    Rilpo smiled. “Come, you have saved our lives and served us immensely. We can’t repay that kind of service. I have had my eye on this poor fellow Diver, your sib. He is very strong, though simple in the head. I think Tsammet likes him. Let us pay you a consideration for his first year’s wages and let him be our Luck and come with us to Rintoul.”
    â€œOh yes . . .” cried Tewl. “Sweet Rilpo . . . you have such kind ideas. Let Diver be our Luck. We had a dear Luck, a dwarf, but she died, poor creature.”
    â€œHighness,” said Harper Roy, “we would not disoblige you for the world, but in truth and according to bond we cannot part with Diver. He is our Luck, signed and sealed.”
    â€œToo bad,” said Rilpo. “What Family? Brin’s Five? Well, so be it. I am sure he is most valuable.”
    He reached into the furry sleeves of his tunic and produced, carelessly, a handful of pure silver credits and gave them to me, filling my cupped hands. It was politeness—giving the child a present rather than tipping the adult. So they parted from us and joined the vassals of Tiath Pentroy. The giant paddle wheel, turned by ten heavers in the bow, began to churn the dark water, and the barge with its shrouded cargo moved slowly from shore. Tsammet had been helped aboard the smaller travelling boat, and now the grandees joined her.
    The two vessels moved on down river, and we were left on the shore, wrapped in our cloaks. Diver bared his face; we laughed together, rather shakily.
    â€œDanger!” said Harper Roy. Diver understood.
    â€œIt is not over yet . . .” he said. In the light of Esder, the Far Sun, newly risen and moving towards its fullness, a detachment of Pentroy vassals were marching on ahead of us into Cullin.
    â€œWe must seek guidance,” said Harper Roy. “Beeth Ulgan will help us.”
    It was a cold evening, and I was sorry we could not visit any of our usual haunts. There were blood kin and glebe neighbors wintering in their warm tents on the slopes above the town and on the edge of the fairground, down over the river. We went looking for a meal in the broad, swept streets of Cullin, between the fixed houses. The tall house of the Town Five hung in curving folds of plaster and bent beams on a mound beyond the circle. The only other buildings of any size were the wool and food store by the main wharf and “Vanuyu” or the House of the Four Winds. This is a hunting lodge built by some Pentroy ages ago on the river, before the weavers bought out the land and gained the title for a free town.
    Vanuyu is a beautiful house—for years the only fixed house I believed could be beautiful—and it is built partly of brick, with curtain walls of plaster to either wing. It is inhabited by some of our town grandees or climbing weavers—the Wharf Steward and the Fair Caller and their fives. We showed these wonders to Diver by the bright light of Esder, and I was impressed, as always, by the lights used in the town . . . candles, oil lamps, rush-lights, for the townees are far less chary of fire than mountain folk. But it was still cold; we pulled into one food shop by the wharf