A few days passed, Connar gaining strength. Each night Lineas asked if he would like to be left in peace, and each night he kept her there with questions. Reluctant to leave, she always stayed to watch over him even though by now once he slept, it was for the night, but she stayed in case, until dawn’s light brought Nath.
Finally an evening came when a dry, hot wind scoured over the stone towers, and she found him as usual sitting by the window, barefoot and shirtless, the bandages much diminished. Most of the weals had pinked over, but his skin was still very tender.
Only one lamp had been lit, to keep the heat down. The light sculpted over his flesh, molding muscle and highlighting the bones of his face, before fading to blue shadow in his hair.
Lineas looked away quickly as she set out his supper. “Which would you like first?” she asked, indicating the pot of listerblossom and the rice dish.
Connar’s mood was volatile; he was bored, and restless—this was the longest he’d gone without a tumble since the summer before. But he was not yet ready to go into the city to visit the Sword. Not until he could lie on his back, because he wasn’t going to let any lover see that shit back there, and maul him with either pity or scorn. He would hate them both.
He considered Lineas.
She glanced his way, finding his eyes in shadow, his beautiful mouth curved in what almost might be a smile. They watched one another as she busied herself laying out his supper. In the light of that single lamp, her pale skin did not appear as bleachy, and the light softened over shapes and shadows beneath her robe.
By now he recognized desire in others’ eyes, but as yet he hadn’t had the time or the inclination to do much beyond what was immediately offered in the baths or at the pleasure house.
Time to try. “Leave that. It’s too hot for supper. Come sit here with me.”
She looked his way, her lips parting. Her cheeks flushed. The wind moaned over the tower, almost overwhelming her soft, “All right.”
She perched on the edge of the deep window inset. He already knew that she smelled of soap made of summer herbs, a clean scent. He found it pleasant. Soothing.
He slowly lifted a hand as she sat there still and silent. Nand at the Sword had taught him well. He experimented, lifting his palm to cup Lineas’s cheek, then drawing his fingers over her jawline. She turned into his touch and gave him a tentative, tremulous smile.
His fingers drifted down in wordless invitation.
She caught his hand at her breast, her fingers small, the palms rough from knife drill. And then she took him by surprise. “I’ve...I haven’t done this before.”
Nand had taught him what to say to that, too: “I am honored you picked me for your first.”
He’d thought it a little silly—what was the difference in honor between the first time and the fiftieth?—but he said it, and saw in the widening of her eyes, and the way her pupils changed size, that it meant something to her.
From there it was easy, and exhilarating for once to be the guide with experience.
Later that morning, he returned to the window, from which he could make out the cadenced yells from the garrison drill a couple of courtyards to the north.
When Nath appeared with his breakfast, Connar said, “I want to see to myself today.”
The man said, “I’ll bring you fresh water.” Which he did, then withdrew.
And so, for the first time, Connar was alone, after a good night. A great night. Lineas was all muscle, like a cat—much stronger than she looked—and so intense. And yet she had been so careful not to hurt him.
For the first time in memory he felt...tranquil. The hot, corrosive breath of pain, his intimate companion for so long, had receded to a distant cloudbank, and with it anger, questions, regret. Connar sat by the open window as weapons clashed and feet stamped in rhythm in the garrison drill court. He reached tentatively around his left side, wishing he could deal with the bandages himself, for he longed for a real bath, instead of washing from the basin.
His outer door opened—and Hauth walked in.
“Don’t you knock?” Connar asked, his good mood gone in an instant.
“If you had a runner, you could choose whom to see and whom to avoid.”
“I don’t want one,” Connar said, as he always had—but with less conviction, after all this time being tended by one of his father’s old runners, and a girl. “Why are you here? I thought the Riders were gone.”
“They are. The last scout report indicated the raiders were scattering as the streams dry up. There’s no need for the heavies to break a line if there is no line. Though we’re on alert in case things change. You still don’t have a personal runner. You’ll be expected to have one, and will probably need a couple by the end of your first year as a garrison riding captain.”
“I take it you have one for me?” Connar asked warily.
“Yes. David Pereth.”
“Augh,” Connar grunted with disgust. “I hate Fish.”
“You brats all hated him, and were equally hateful,” was Hauth’s caustic response, and Connar flushed. “He’s excellently trained. Loyal, like his family, to dolphin-clan—his mother is my kin. He’s very useful. So use him, especially for those orders you might not give to the royal runners, for example.”
Connar’s disgust altered to wariness. “So now you’re saying I can’t trust the royal runners? Or are you going to start with how I, not being Da’s real son, can’t have a royal runner? Because I can tell you you’re wrong, they’ve tried to get me—”
Hauth cut in. “The royal runners’ allegiance is to whoever holds the throne.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Nothing. Except...surely, at your age, you don’t want every detail of your life blabbed to the king and queen?”
Connar’s thoughts went straight to Lineas, who had probably been reporting on his recovery each day. Then he scowled at Hauth. “Fish’ll be reporting to you.”
Hauth said, “I’m loyal to dolphin-clan. As you know. As for young Pereth, if you trouble yourself to win his allegiance, he won’t report to anybody but you.”
Connar sighed. If he’d had a trusted runner when he went to scout that game slate…. Well. “Send him over. But if he annoys me, out he goes, and I’ll get Quill, as soon as he comes back to the royal city.” Quill was the first name to mind, not that Connar knew anything about him, other than that he was the royal runner captain’s son. Which would make him suitable for a prince.
Hauth heard the challenge in Connar’s tone, but kept a prudent silence, having got what he wanted. He left without another word.
Connar stood up carefully, and looked around his tidy rooms. But old Nath and Lineas had only dealt with his bedding and food and his clothes. Fish’s fingers would soon be into everything. Not that Connar cared, except for....
He walked into other room, feeling weirdly tall after lying flat for so long. He moved to the trunk beside his desk, grimacing as he knelt and opened the trunk. There, under the books his parents and tutors had given him over the years, were the Inda papers, just as he’d left them. He pulled them out, surprised at how grubby and battered they’d become, until he had them mostly memorized.
He got to his feet, crossed the room, and chucked them into the fireplace, which was cold, of course. But last winter’s firesticks lay on the mantel. He tossed them in cross-wise, muttering the spell for fire—and there was enough magic-bound sunlight still left in them to sprout a lick of flame on the edge of a paper. The flame spread and strengthened, the edges of the top papers browning and curling.
He stood there as heat and ruddy light beat over him, watching the words wither and vanish.
Everything according to the rules.
He remembered the conviction in Da’s voice when he’d said it. Well, another thing Da believed was that the age of heroes was over, leaving the rest of them to do what they could.
Connar watched the fire as a sort of calm quenched the hot fury inside him. He
got it now. He understood. If you didn’t like the rules, you became the person who makes new rules.
Before the noon bell, Fish presented himself at Connar’s door.
Connar said, “I don’t remember your last name—”
“It’s Pereth.”
“—and I didn’t ask you to interrupt me. If you can’t stick hearing Fish, then take yourself off.” Of course he remembered who David Pereth was, but he’d better get their own rules established.
Fish remained impassive, having expected something of the sort. Being called Fish certainly wasn’t new—it was his own brother who’d given him the inescapable nickname. His father had said the evening before, the only thing to do was make the name famous for excellence, so it would become a trophy. Fish also had been warned that the prince was likelier to be nasty-tempered than usual after what he’d endured, but he was still the true king. The future king.
Connar glared at Fish, who—taller than he was by a couple fingers’ breadth—had grown into his eyes somewhat, though he was still goggle-eyed. He wore a gray castle runner’s robe, his light brown hair neatly queued back. Fish didn’t look angry or smirking, or much of anything. And it had been a long time since he’d been spying and tattling. Connar hadn’t seen him for years, except for the previous summer when he had fetched Connar for the king conversation.
He sighed. “I really want a bath,” he said tiredly. “And I can’t get these damn bandages off by myself.”
Fish turned out to have a deft touch, and for the midday meal he managed to scout out a pot of strawberry compote, though the day before Nath had told Connar that there wasn’t any left in the entire castle. Connar remembered that Fish’s father was the quartermaster, and decided that maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.
When Lineas entered the outer door that evening, carrying Connar’s supper as usual, she stopped still, surprised to see Fish straightening Connar’s outer chamber.
He gave her a hostile stare. “Put it down and take yourself off. I’m his runner now.”
“All right,” Lineas responded softly, and as she set the tray down, she said, “What should I call you?”
“Fish,” Connar snapped from the bedroom door. Time for another rule. “And I’ll say who’s coming and going.”
This new rule would be a whole lot better. He crossed to Lineas and held out his hand.
She took his fingers, brightening into a happy smile. As Connar led her into the bedroom, he said over his shoulder, “Stay out until I call you.”
He shut the bedroom door, leaving Fish standing alone, consciously breathing against the gut burn of irritation. He had to remember the goal that Uncle Ret had promised: When Connar was king, David Pereth would be chief of the royal runners, who had rejected him.
While Fish glared down at the tray of cooling food, Noddy backed away from the outer door, which Lineas had left open. He’d returned from a long ride to see how his brother was doing, and to ask if he wanted to share the evening meal.
But he’d seen those linked hands, and Lineas’s smile, and he knew what was going to happen—what had happened.
Yes, that hurt a little. At least there was Neit, he reflected as he retreated to his own room. And Connar was definitely better, which made him glad.
Preorder the second half of Time of Daughters here.
WHO'S WHO
Narrator
The same narrator who oversaw the Fox memoir detailing the history of Inda Algaravayir, known as Inda Harskialdna. (Subsequent details in later records.)
Marlovan Jarl Households and Rider Families
(Individuals connected to jarl households listed under that household. For example, Farendavan, under Tyavayir.)
Arvandais (of Lorgi Idego)
Jarl: Hastrid
Jarlan: Starand
Daughter: Hadand “Hard Ride”
Son: Haldren “Hal”
First cousin: Ndiran Arvandais. (Married to Wolf Senelaec 3 years, took daughter Marend on dissolving the marriage)
Third-cousins: Farendavan family [see Tyavayir]
Anderle Vaskad: sword master and war trainer, first under former king Tanrid Olavayir AKA Bloody Tanrid; had early training of Mathren Olavayir before moving to north shore.
Algaravayir
Iofre: Linden-Fareas
Daughters (by Aldren Noth): Hadand, Noren (future gunvaer)
RIDER FAMILY: NOTH
Runners:
Pan Totha (runner to Noren)
Holly (runner to Noren)
Cassad [see Telyer Hesea]
Darchelde, (family name Montredavan-An: confined within their own borders for ten generations by old treaty)
Jarlan: Shendan, secret mage chief
Son: Savarend-Camerend, (known as Camerend) chief of royal runners, co-chief of royal runner training, m. Isa Eris
Son: Savarend-Senrid “Quill”
Eveneth
Sons: Camerend, Keth
Daughter: Fnor
RIDER FAMILY: MARECA
Sons: Barend, David
Daughter: Dialen
Feravayir (family name Nyidri)
Acting jarl Commander Ivandred Noth
Sons: Ganred “Rat”, Vandas “Mouse”
Jarlan: Lavais
Sons by Lavais and former jarl: Demeos, Evred “Ryu”
RIDER FAMILY: NOTH, PARAYID BRANCH
Gannan
Jarl: Evred
Jarlan: Fareas
Sons: Indevan “Blue”, Senrid “Cabbage”
Daughter: Ndand
RIDER FAMILIES: STALGRID & POSEID
Sons: “Lefty” and “Righty Poseid”, twins
Halivayir
Jarl: Indevan
Son: Kendred “Bendy”
Daughter: Hadand “Thistle”
RIDER FAMILY: DORTHAD
Leaf Dorthad (betrothed to “Ghost” Fath)
Steward: “Goose” Banth
Nanny
Jayavayir, also known as Jayad Hesea (family name Jevayir)
Jarl: Indevan “Iron Spear”
Grandsons: Hana, Ivandred, Senrid
Holder Khael Artolei: holder of a border territory, maternal second cousin to Nyidris of Feravayir, friend to Nyidri sons
Khanivayir
Jarl: Barend
Jarlan: Mran
Sons: Tanrid “Squeak”, Retren “Snake”
Daughter: Shendan
RIDER FAMILY MONADAN
Marlovayir
Jarl: Indevan
Jarlan: Ndara
Sons: Handas “Knuckles”, Tlen
Knuckle’s sons: twins, Salt and Pepper
Daughter: Tdiran
RIDER FAMILY: STADAS
Marthdavan
Daughter: Lis
Son: Jarend
Chana (once “Chelis”)
RIDER FAMILIES: BAUDAN, NDARGA, and NOTH
Dannor Ndarga
Lemon Noth, Riding Chief
Olavayir
Eagle-branch
Grand Gunvaer: Hesar
Jarl: Indevan
Jarlan: Ranor
Randael: [deceased]
Randviar: Sdar
Sister: Hlar (born Halrid, third brother), chief potter
Sons: Kethadrend [deceased], Tanrid [deceased], Jarend (married to Tdor Fath)
Offspring: Tanrid “Rabbit”, Anred “Arrow” (married to Danet)
Arrow’s sons: Nadran “Noddy”, Connar [see dolphin branch]
Daughter: Hadand “Bunny”
“Sneeze” Ventdor, second cousin to Jarend and Anred
Runners:
Gdan (runner to jarlan)
Nand (border Rider)
Tesar “Tes” (Danet’s runner, niece to Gdan)
Nunkrad “Nunka” (in charge of nursery)
Loret (Danet’s First Runner)
Shen (Danet’s second runner)
Sage (Danet’s third runner)
Halrid “Floss” Vannath (Tanrid’s first runner)
Neit Vannath (Jarlan
of Olavayir’s long runner)
Nath (chamber runner to Arrow)
David “Fish” Pereth (runner to Connar)
Dolphin-branch
Garid [deceased]
Kendred (regent),
Mathren (Commander of King’s Riders) m. Fnor Marthdavan
Sons: Lanrid, Sindan “Sinna”
Grandson, by Lanrid and Fini sa Vaka: Connar [see eagle branch]
Retren Hauth (maternal second-cousin to Mathren, sent to Nevree as lance master)
Runners:
Thad (Mathren’s third runner)
Tlen (general castle runner)
Kend (second Runner to Mathren)
Senelaec
Jarl: Garid
Jarlan: Gdar
Jarl’s brother: Tanrid “Tana”
Sons: Camrid “Wolf “, Tanrid “Yipyip”
Daughters: Fareas “Fuss”, Carleas “Calamity” (adopted from Noth relations)
Mardran “Cub” (son of Wolf and Ndiran Arvandais)
Marend (daughter of Wolf and Ndiran Arvandais, taken to Arvandais by Ndiran
Ranet/Ran “Braids” (son of Wolf and Calamity, raised as a daughter)
Fareas “Kit” (daughter of Wolf and Calamity)
Ranet (adopted from Keriam family, to replace Ranet in betrothal)
Runners: Pip
Ndara
Young Pan
Ink
Trot
Fnor
Sindan-An
Jarl: Tanrid “Rock”
Jarlan: Ranet
Son: Evred “Baldy”
Daughter: Fnor
RIDER FAMILY: SINDAN (related to the Sindans of Sindan-An and Tlen
Time of Daughters I Page 61
