The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Garrett Robinson (poetry books to read TXT) 📖

Sun smiled. “A sellsword. I think I might like that.”

He swept his arm out as if in invitation, and then he continued on west. Sun followed him into the moonslight, full of wonder at what her future might yet hold. Wonder, but no longer any fear.

Oh, by the by—you should know something of what Rogan was doing during this time.

Not long after Kaita fled from Kahaunga, he was sitting in a chamber in Dorsea’s northeastern reaches. A cup of mulled wine was in his hand, but he drank from it slowly, twirling it in his hands and staring into its depths.

A voice spoke from the shadows. “My son.”

Rogan shot to his feet, his eyes shining.

“Father?”

“Kaita has failed.”

Rogan’s hands clenched to fists at his sides. “She … how do you—”

“It is enough that I know.”

“Father, tell me that she is not—”

“She lives.”

Rogan sank back into his chair in relief, casting a hand over his eyes. “Thank the sky.” But then he lifted his head, and there was fear in his eyes. “Do not blame her for this, Father. It was with my counsel that she set upon her road. If she could not succeed in Tokana, no one could have. Do not punish her.”

“She did her best. She could not have done any more than she did. But now she is searching for you. You made her a vow.”

“As you commanded.” Rogan shook his head, staring at his own boots. “I was reluctant.”

“Kaita cannot be allowed to find you. Not right away. Not until the time is right. But when you reunite with her at last, you must give her what was promised.”

Slowly, Rogan stood from his chair. He went to the table in the center of the chamber. Upon it had been laid a map of the nine kingdoms. Small figures in blue stood upon the map, marking every place where the Shades had an agent or a fighting force. There were many. Far more than we would have guessed, in those days.

“You said you would not punish her,” he said quietly.

“It is not punishment.”

“I have seen it, Father,” whispered Rogan. “If Kaita gets her wish, it will only lead to her death.”

“You can see farther than any other, my son. Any other except me. Trust me when I say that this is no punishment.” Rogan felt a hand on his shoulder, comforting him. “But yes. I am afraid that if we are to achieve our aims, you are right. Kaita will have to die.”

Sun might have been forgiven for wishing the conversation would end. After all, no one had invited her to take part in it, and few things are worse than waiting on the edges of others’ discussion, hearing what they have to say and yet having little to offer.

Her meal had gone some time ago, whisked away by a barman who gave her a wink and received a curled lip in return. Albern, however, still made deliberate and slow progress through his food, and the discussion he had begun with the woman at the next table did not aid his speed. Sun could not quite say why Albern had started speaking to her, except that it seemed to be a knack of his. He had a friendly and approachable manner, for all his appearance of a rough old man. Strangers found him easy to talk to, and he always seemed eager to speak to them as well. That was how Sun had met him, after all.

“And I say,” Albern responded to the woman, “that the day we are all pleased with our kings is the day the world breaks. I have never known a time in which the commoner had only love for the noble, and I have lived a good deal longer than you have, if you will forgive my saying so.”

“Why should I need to forgive a plain truth?” said the woman, chuckling. “And I do not wish for a perfect king. I only wish for a better one. This business on the Feldemarian border …”

Albern waved the stump of his right arm as if he had forgotten it was missing its hand. “Many lips have passed the news of those troubles to our ears. Who knows what is going on up there? But mayhap I will look into it before long, and then I will bring the truth back to you.”

The woman reached out to clasp his left wrist. “A wanderer, are you? Then I accept your offer, and with gratitude. Only take care of yourself on the journey. The roads are not as safe as they were.”

“When do you mean?” said Albern, grinning as he shook her hand. “The dream of eternally safe roads is another I have never seen come true. But we will be careful. Good day to you.”

The woman gave a rueful laugh and, with a quick nod to Sun, rose to leave. The moment she had disappeared into the crowd of the common room, Sun leaned close.

“About time, old man. I thought you two would talk until sundown.”

Albern shrugged. “I would not have minded it. Charming conversation is often in short supply.”

Sun’s brows rose. “I hope you do not mean to insult me.”

“No, indeed. I have enjoyed our conversations more than any in a good long while. I imagine your impatience is what has had you bouncing in your seat for the last half hour? I wondered if you had to relieve yourself.”

“In fact, I do. It is only that you kept seeming to be on the verge of finishing your talk.”

Sun rose from her chair, though Albern was not quite done with his food. Sighing, he scooped the last few spoonfuls of stew into his mouth. “That is your trouble, Sun, or one of them. Always too eager for the end.”

He led her through the common room and out