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Casket of Souls

Page 50

by Lynn Flewelling


  “It’s Beka and Nyal!” Illia shouted as she ran to meet them.

  Micum slapped Seregil on the back so hard he nearly knocked him over. “Come on, Uncle Seregil. Let’s go meet the prodigals.”

  The whole household came running into the courtyard as Beka and the others rode up. She hopped lightly down from the saddle and ran to embrace her parents and siblings. Nyal and the others dismounted and Seregil saw with surprise that among the other riders were Princess Klia, dressed in the royal red of command, and Thero in the finest riding outfit Seregil had ever seen him wear. As Marshal of the Armies, Klia had gone back to Plenimar for the winter to oversee the encampment and spring homecoming. Thero must have ridden out to meet her.

  “Welcome home, Captain,” Micum said, hugging Beka.

  Grinning, she pulled the silver-and-gold gorget from the neck of her tabard. “It’s Commander now. And given my exemplary service to the Crown, I was allowed to choose my own aide-de-camp!” Beka put an arm around her husband’s waist and kissed him.

  Nyal grinned. “Who could deny a Cavish woman?”

  Kari let out an exaggerated sigh. “So, no grandchildren yet?”

  “No,” Beka replied firmly.

  “But where are our manners!” exclaimed Kari. “Princess Klia, we’re honored to have you here.”

  “It’s good to see you all,” said Klia. “I hope you don’t mind me bringing your daughter and son back to you?”

  Kari hugged her as if she’d been one of her own. “You’re most welcome. And you, too, Thero.”

  “Are you home to stay?” asked Alec.

  “Not just yet.” Nyal caught up Luthas and Gherin and spun them around until they squealed with laughter. “The rest of the army’s just down there on the highroad, coming down from Cirna on their way home. There’s going to be a victory parade in a few days. And then the commander here will be busy with her troops.”

  “What brings you out here, Thero?” asked Seregil with a knowing grin.

  “We have some news we wanted you all to hear from us,” said Klia, now beaming at Thero.

  The wizard colored a little. “Princess Klia has asked me to marry her.”

  “What did you say?” cried Illia, jumping around in excitement.

  “Why, I said yes.”

  Kari and Micum looked thunderstruck by this news, but Seregil burst out laughing, and Alec, too.

  “Of course, the Orëska wizards are debating it, and the royal council,” Thero added, trying to regain his dignity. “No Orëska wizard has ever married, according to the archivists.”

  “And no queen has ever married one, of course,” said Klia. “But we have the queen’s approval. In the end, I think that will be enough, though we’ll have to wait until after Elani marries.” She exchanged a meaningful look with Seregil. “It wouldn’t be—prudent, otherwise.”

  “This calls for a feast!” Micum declared, ushering the princess and the others toward the house.

  Illia hugged Beka again, eyes aglow with admiration. “I want to hear all your adventures!”

  “And we want to hear yours,” said Beka, “What mischief have you all gotten up since I last saw you?”

  For my friend Lucienne Diver,

  who has given my work legs and wings all these years

  Acknowledgments

  Thanks, as always, to my supportive husband, Doug, my sons, folks, and all my family, and a bevy of supportive friends and fans. And, of course, to my wonderful agent, Lucienne Diver, my talented editor, Anne Groell, who always makes these books better, and artist Michael Komarck, who brings the covers to life in the most delightful ways.

  And a very special thank-you to my friend, the poet Jennifer Crow, who graciously provided the lovely poem “The Hour of Blue Leaves” in chapter 14. You should check out her other work. It’s amazing.

  ALSO BY LYNN FLEWELLING

  Luck in the Shadows

  Stalking Darkness

  Traitor’s Moon

  Shadows Return

  The White Road

  and

  The Bone Doll’s Twin

  Hidden Warrior

  The Oracle’s Queen

 

 

 


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