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.As she pulled on the loose trousers and belted theembroidered tunic over them with her prentice sash, she felt stranger still, thinkingthat she might be wearing some famous person s clothes.At least with my old mocs and my cloak on, I feel like me, and not someone else,she thought, packing up her things.Then it was time for good-byes.She found everyone but Teressa and Connor inthe kitchen, the stable, or the parlor, all working.But she would not leave withoutsaying good-bye to her best friend.She opened door after door in all the rooms, until in an isolated corner under theslanting roof she found Teressa and Connor.They stood before a window, talkingearnestly.Wren took a step in and was about to open her mouth, just as Connorgrasped both of Teressa s hands.Neither of them noticed her. I want more than anything to help you, but not as an army commander. Why not, Connor? Teressa asked, looking earnestly up into his face. You rethe best of any of us. Connor shook his head. Good at quarterstaff and adequate with a sword, andI ve learned something about how a patrol works.But an army? So what am I to do, then? Teressa asked. Send to Siradayel for my half-brother, Rollan.Or wait, because someone willcome forth who can lead.I just know I m not qualified.I m sorry. Teressa sighed, then leaned against Connor, who stroked her hair.They don t know I m here.Embarrassed, Wren started to back out, but the floorcreaked.Connor and Teressa jumped apart, Connor flushing up to the ears.But Teressajust bit her lip, her expression difficult to interpret. Um.I m leaving, Wren said, fumbling for the door latch. Wait, Wren, we want to see you off, Teressa said.All the way down the stairs, Wren talked about the clothes she d found, babblingto keep her friends from feeling as embarrassed as she did.Once or twice Connorsmiled, but Teressa seemed preoccupied.Outside, Wren squinted at the sky and tightened her cloak about her.Lumpyiron-colored clouds glowered from horizon to horizon, and an icy wind fingered herbraids, promising worse weather to come.Teressa hugged her. Are you sure you won t take one of our mounts? Wren shook her head. I m likely to find someone to ride with eventually, and it dbe harder on your group to have to double up.For now I ll walk. She added in afierce whisper, You just be careful! Be well and safe, Wren, Teressa murmured, looking worried.Wren shrugged her heavy knapsack on and said with as much cheer as she couldmuster, I ll be sure to give Hawk your warmest cousinly greetings. Teressa sniffed.From behind her, though, came a laugh from Connor. Give himmine, too, Wren. And mine, Tyron called from the stairwell. Why not? Everyone laughed at Tyron s joke, and Wren set out down the pathway.As Tyron had guessed, there were no magic traps at the Haven border.Wren bent into the tearing wind, thinking about the last time she had set out onthis road, with Tyron, their destination Senna Lirwan.They d had no idea then whatthat journey would entail.This time, she thought she knew.Though I can t believe Andreus doesn t expect anyone to try anything against him in his own land, Wren thought, feeling a chill that cut deeper than the wintrywind.The dull thud of hoofbeats brought her attention back.She moved quickly to theside of the road, almost slipping in a mud patch.A group of tired horses trotted by,bearing dispirited-looking people who clutched bags and rolls of belongings.Refugees.Once again, this time by sheer contrast, Wren was reminded of her lastjourney.She and Tyron had been almost alone on the road, the season early spring.Tyron had not known it then, but the senior magicians had let him go as a kind oftest.Now, he was in charge of the other magicians all the decisions falling on hisshoulders.He must be terribly worried, Wren thought.And then her thoughts skipped back to the scene she had inadvertently witnessedbetween Connor and Teressa.Romance? And at the start of a war! She groaned asdrops of rain spattered her forehead and wrist.Would this romance stuff hurt herfriendship with Teressa? Pulling her cloak more tightly around her, Wren squinted upat the clouds.Would it hurt her friendship with Connor?Hoofbeats interrupted her thoughts again.Someone galloping, she realized, andducked behind a line of roadside shrubs.The riders flashed by, two and two, mud covering whatever colors and devicesthey might have been wearing.The rain increased steadily and, as the afternoon wore on, turned sleety.Wrenhunched into her cloak, feeling the tingle of her cloak s magic working to repel thewater.Where the hood blew back and the cloak flapped open, Wren s face and legswere numb with cold, but the rest of her was reasonably dry.I m glad Irestrengthened the wet-wards on my moccasins and mittens and knapsack, shethought, clutching the cloak even tighter around her.As she leaned into the driving wind, she forgot about her friends and concentratedon staying on her feet.Several times more, she heard horses approach.Usually theriders sped by, but once the noise was a coach, driven as swiftly as the gallopinghorses, and later a laden wagon with two shrouded figures atop, swaddled to theeyes.Wondering if she could get a ride, Wren lifted a hand and shouted, but whetherthe wind snatched her words away too quickly or the people simply ignored her, shedid not know.They passed on and were soon swallowed by the gathering gloom,the cart wheels creaking alarmingly.So she plodded on.Darkness had nearly fallen when she began scanning the rough countryside forsomewhere to camp.It would be a miserable night unless she could find some caveor thick copse of trees to shelter under.Then again she heard the thud of hoof-beats. This time the rhythm was slower.As she squinted into the steady rain, she sawthe flicker of light through the droplets, like a sudden swarm of fireflies.The cool,steady blue light of glow-globes illuminated the puddled road, and a few momentslater, a covered wagon with two drivers came into view.To her surprise, as soon as the wagon drew alongside her a female voice cluckedto the horses, and they stopped, their heads low
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Tematy
IndexLensman 02 Smith, E E 'Doc' First Lensman
Złota Dynastia 05 Smith Karen Rose Serce ze złota
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Patricia Richard Busy Hands, Images of the Family in the Northern Civil War Effort (2003)
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Philip Gordon, Jeremy Shapiro Allies At War, America, Europe and the Crisis Over Iraq (2004)
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