124344.fb2 Lammas Night (anthology) - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 49

Lammas Night (anthology) - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 49

Business? she thought. How curious. What about Narvik?

"We've sent out numerous messengers," Cafrym said, "Are you here because of them?"

"No." News?

"Are you, uh, great friends with Narvik?"

Wythen shook her head again, this time frowning.

"No. We met at a fair last autumn. He invited me to visit if I was ever in the area."

"Ah. Well. I'm sorry... Narvik, son of Phocon, took ill and died in the early summer. Just..." Cafrym grimaced and spread his hands, "faded away, unable to help himself."

A tearing gasp broke from her. Something cold ran through her body, like a wisp of icy mist. Tears filled her eyes. My fault! her mind accused.

She'd forgotten. She always forgot when she did something truly evil. Only to remember when, as now, someone told her the results of her wickedness. Despair crashed down upon her like an avalanche. She wanted to destroy herself.

No use. She'd tried before. Once she'd placed a noose round her neck and tightened it, and once she'd a flagon of poison actually at her lips. Both times Wythen suddenly found herself trudging the road, footsore and far from where she'd been, all her possessions on her back, with a headache like a spike driven into her brow.

Why? Her heart was beating so fast she feared it would burst. Why would I hurt him? He was kind to me.

Cafrym reached out as though to take her hand and one of the councilwomen offered brandy. Wythen took it and gulped, gasping again as the fire burned its way down her throat.

"I'm sorry," Cafrym said. "He was a friend to us all."

Wythen nodded, struggling to regain her composure.

"I'm sure..." Cafrym paused.

"That he'd want us to welcome you," the councilwoman supplied quickly. "I'm Radola. Narvik was a great friend to my family. I know he would have wished you to find—"

"A place with us," snapped Cafrym, reestablishing control. "Ah, assuming you don't already have a place of your own. You've the look of a, um, wandering scholar."

Wythen stroked her brow with trembling fingers.

"You need a replacement," she said. "Of course. I've... several testimonials you could look at."

She took a deep breath. They're quick to replace the man who was their friend, she thought, with a feeling of distaste.

Cafrym seemed to sense her doubt; "Winter's almost on us, sorceress. There's deep snow in the pass already; in two weeks the roads will be closed."

He leaned forward earnestly. "We're in danger here. There are ice demons in the winter and... other things. Who'll set the wards for us and keep them out of our houses and away from our stock? And we need a healer. Winters are hard here."

"Narvik warned us in the spring to seek a replacement," Radola said. "We've searched, but found no one. Surely your coming was fated; for without knowing our need, here you are. Please stay. There'll be deaths here this winter if you don't."

Radola's face matched her words, but not the eyes. Wythen stared until the older woman looked aside.

"You shall have the Sorcerer's cottage," said a tall thin fellow.