Honor-Bound [ Lore of Penrua: Book III ]

17

A short while later, the three of them sat on a sunny stone balcony that reminded Uachi of those at the palace in the Holy City. Being there made him think of Mhera, which made him think of Uarria and where she might be. He forced himself to loosen his fists and swallow his impatience as he waited for one of these ruddy-headed lordlings to start talking.

"All right, then," Padréc said. He had washed his face and hands and had changed into a clean set of clothes. Now he perched on the edge of his chair, pouring drinks for the three of them.

Uachi sniffed the honey-colored liquid curiously, then took a sip. Knitting his brow, he glanced at Padréc, who smiled. "I hope you like mead. I'm not too humble to say that our alewives make the best mead in all of Narr."

Diarmán took a healthy swallow of his own and gave a sigh of pleasure. "Now I'm home," he said. For a minute or two, there was no talk as the three of them sipped their mead, Uachi with considerably less pleasure than the others. More than once, he drew breath to break the silence, but swallowed down the urge with frustration. In Penrua, serious talks between men were always had over wine; this silence could be part of a Narrian ritual it would serve him poorly to disturb.

At last, Diarmán broke the silence. "Brother, my friend Uachi is in search of a woman and a child. I had hoped you might be able to help him."

Padréc turned that bright and steady gaze upon Uachi again. Something in those eyes reminded Uachi of Farra; it was an alert look, the look of a forest creature or a watchful bird. "Is that so?" he asked.

"My wife and my daughter," he supplied.

Glancing at his brother, Padréc said, "I thought you were off to demand an audience with Lady Coratse?"

"I am; we'll leave on the morrow. If it happens that Uachi's path closely follows my own—and we have reason to suspect that it will—we'll travel together. I believe that on this point we're agreed, are we not, Uachi?"

Uachi shrugged. "You'll hear no argument from me. Especially if you've horses to supply." Looking at Padréc, he added, "I think they will go to Aólane. Diarmán tells me that this queen of yours—"

Diarmán made a soft sound of derision, but Padréc's expression did not change—

"—is not far from there."

Padréc nodded. "I see." He raised his eyebrows at his brother. "So I'm to make a survey and see if you've judged the woman's path aright?"

"Just so," said Diarmán.

"Tell me, Uachi," said Padréc, turning his attention to the ranger, "do you think they're mounted?"

"Probably."

"And if I find them, then should I slow them down for you?"

Confused, Uachi looked from Padréc to Diarmán. "I don't want you to bring either of them to harm. If you're going to—to track them, I'd just as soon go with you. I'm not a poor tracker myself, but I'm not sure whether she is ahead of me at this point or behind."

Diarmán chuckled, raising his glass of mead with a wink. "Trust me, Uachi. You cannot go by the ways Padréc goes. Alas, neither can I."

"But don't worry," Padréc said, picking up the thread. "I'll be gone no more than a day. Tell me, why do your wife and your daughter run from you, Uachi? Why should I help you find them?"

Uachi was not certain how far House Olarian was from Eldran's Keep, but he suspected it was far, much farther than a normal man could travel in the course of a day. He had the sense that he had missed something, and he did not like to feel ignorant. It made him irritable, and it came out in his tone. "My wife is unsettled in her mind," he said, "and I do not believe my daughter is safe with her. I need to find them. Can you help me, or not?"