Page 20 of Tears of the Wolf
Eadburh nodded as if not sure what to say to that.
They sent the girls to fetch more servants to help them carry the trunks. Eadburh seemed to be taking a good portion of time out of her morning to comfort Brynn.
The sorceress wished she wouldn’t.
“I do regret I have no girl to send with you,” Eadburh lamented.
Brynn canted her head in understanding. “I have Esa. And I am sure there are more girls in the north I might employ as my companions.”
The trunks proved too heavy for the three young men who had answered the call, and so they had to fetch three others. While she waited, Brynn had Esa fix her hair again. Esa removed the festive ribbon, then fixed it into a simple plait down Brynn’s back.
Brynn donned her traveling cloak as the last of her trunks was carried out.
Eadburh sat watching her with a narrow gaze. “This is the most activity I’ve seen from you since…well, since you came here.”
Brynn inclined her head in the ghost of a bow. She had a mission for now. A purpose. “Please give my regards to the king.” Brynn clasped Eadburh’s hands. “I am sure he is too busy this morning, but please express my thanks and gratitude for all both of you have done for me.”
It was the right thing to say, even if Brynn knew deep down her uncle was trying to get rid of her.
Eadburh stood, squeezing Brynn’s hands. “Please send word if anything…” She took a deep breath, as if catching herself. “Go with the blessing of your gods and mine.”
“Your gods and mine,” Brynn echoed. She bowed over the other woman’s hands before following the trail of servants with her trunks.
Brynn adjusted her cloak and covered her head the way most married women did in the open air. As a sorceress, she was beholden to her own customs and rules, but at this point, she would prefer not to offend Cenric. Best she found out what Ombra’s customs were first then decided which, if any, she wished to negotiate.
The king’s residence rose up overlooking the city. Homes, storehouses, and stables sprawled below the famed cliff face fortress of Ungamot.
King Aelmar, Brynn’s grandfather, had constructed the wall that now guarded the city. The wall had been knocked down and burned in some places during the war and those spots were noticeable by the newer timbers in the palisade.
Occasional black splotches marked some of the buildings. Incongruous seams stood out where new wood and old had beencobbled together during similar repairs. Entirely new buildings stood in some places, erected over old foundations.
If the scars of the war hadn’t remained, it would have been hard to believe. The streets were alive with activity as thousands of people bustled to and fro.
The air was alive withkain the morning mist. Life teemed in all directions, people moving like thousands of lamps. Brynn breathed it in, trying to hold onto it—that feeling of life. She’d resented it when she had first come here.
Every time she’d felt another person’s life force glowing like a hot coal, she remembered feeling Osbeorn’s coldness. She’d even tried to shut outkaat one point, but she was too powerful for that. As a sorceress who had woven spells for as long as she could remember, magic knew her too well.
People stepped aside when they saw Brynn was accompanied by a gaggle of servants and porters. They led her to the docks, already abuzz with activity.
Dozens of ships lay anchored in Ungamot’s harbor. A few ships appeared moored, but several ships appeared to be fishermen already returned hauling the first catches.
Cenric’s ship,Wolf Star,wasn’t hard to spot. Brynn half expected to see shields hung along the sides for all it looked like a Valdari ship.
The vessel had a single mast and oars all along the side. The sail was furled, but it appeared to be made of some blue fabric. The ship was large and might be able to fit thirty men or more, if it carried no cargo. The prow and stern both rose and arched gracefully, like twin serpents. Deer-head carvings graced the prow and the stern.
A plank had been set down and a number of men she recognized from the “feast” last night worked to load cargo from the dock. The ship’s broad deck was already stacked with bundles of goods and sealed barrels.
One of Cenric’s men spotted them, the short redhead who seemed to be in charge. He leapt lightly onto the docks, seeming to dance more than walk. He struck Brynn as vulpine, the way his dark eyes flickered over their small group as he sauntered toward them. “Lady Brynn! Good morning to you. I hope you’re well rested.”
In truth, Brynn’s head still throbbed with a headache and the glare of the light off the waves threatened to make her eyes water. But she nodded and lied. “I am well, thank you.”
The stranger took her hand and kissed the back of it, the proper way for a man to greet a woman of higher rank. “My name’s Edric. Cenric’s been stuck with me for nigh on six years now.”
Six years—that would mean they had known each other long before Cenric became alderman.
“Cenric should be joining us soon,” Edric said. “We can get your things loaded.” He looked over the collection of trunks carried by the king’s men. “Is this all of it?”
“Yes,” Brynn answered. She looked past Edric, studying the ship.
