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Chapter 20
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He became aware of a burning itch in his side, recognizing the sensation as the irritation of a healing wound and he remembered where he’d gotten it.
He felt soft covers draped over him and a pillow beneath his head. He remembered people standing over him, a kindly woman and a man who hadn’t been so gentle. He remembered hating their presence, knowing that they meant to keep him alive. He didn’t want to live, didn’t want to see their concern, or accept the food they forced into him. He remembered telling them to leave him alone, to let him die.
They hadn’t. Now he was faced with living again, faced with intolerable grief, and the agony of memory. In waking, he saw himself running and felt his brother slipping away.
Dynan opened his eyes, coming fully awake.
“Well now, you just rest easy.”
He saw her by low lamplight, set to ease the dark of evening, sitting near at hand in her chair, sewing to pass the time. Sitting as he remembered her every other time he woke. He tried to push himself up, but found he lacked the strength.
She smiled, setting aside her sewing and moved closer. Her hair, grey showing starkly through black, was twisted back into a loose bun. She was an ample woman, motherly, with blue eyes that sparkled from some source of inner mirth. “I knew you were a stubborn young man when we found you,” she said, lifting him so she could push some extra pillows behind his back. “That better?”
She got him some water and held the glass to his lips. He couldn’t raise his arms to do it for himself, encumbered by dragging weakness. “You were sick enough, that’s for certain, but the Doc came out and did what he needed to. Said you’d make it. Seems he was right, even when the last relapse made me doubt it. Here you are, alive, and that’s a blessing.”
Her piercing eyes lighted on his. He turned from her, unable to meet her direct and knowing look. “You may not think it a blessing now, but in time, you’ll see that it is. You talked enough in your sleep and delirium. Death is a natural part of living, but when life is taken in violence, well, that makes it all the more difficult to bear. Give yourself some time. You’ll see. It gets easier.”
She stood, moving to a small table. Sparsely furnished because of its size, the room held the bed and her chair, which he doubted was meant to stay. A small chest stood at the end of the bed. The room was tiny, barely five kem wide and eight long at the most. When she turned back, he saw that she held a bowl of steaming broth. He didn’t want it.
“Now, you can have this on your own accord, or you can have it the other way. Riegle isn’t a gentle man, or patient, but you will eat. I’ll not have spent a month tending you only to have you die of starvation.”
“A month?” he said, startled into speaking. His throat still hurt and he winced.
“Yes. Long enough. You’ve been very ill.” She put a spoon in the liquid, then held it for him. After a brief hesitation, and the memory of Riegle to convince him, he decided it would be better to eat.
After a taste, he had to admit it was good, and soothing to his throat as well. That she was feeding him as she would a baby caused him some discomfort. He felt his face warm with the realization she likely had to take care of other things far more personal. The slight smile she wore confirmed the thought.
“Now, don’t worry yourself. I’ve raised four children and I’ve seen worse. Though I must say it’s been a good number of years since I last set eyes on such a form as yours.” She giggled to herself, while Dynan gaped at her. “Riegle now, he’s a fine man, but he’s not much to look at. A good man, and decent, but he’s more full of bluster than a hog going to slaughter. He’ll have some questions, no doubt, but the way I see it, unless you’ve done murder he’ll not turn you over.”
Dynan couldn’t hold her gaze again and felt her studying him.
“Murder is a long way from defending yourself against ruffians now. I think you know the difference.” She set the bowl aside, pleased that he’d eaten most of the broth, and said so as she adjusted his pillows down a notch.
“What’s your name?” she asked and he was suddenly afraid if they knew who he was, Riegle wouldn’t wait to tell the authorities about him, but put him out at once. He was taking too long to answer. When he tried to speak, nothing came out.
“De Alurn,” he said finally, looking at her to see if she believed him.
“I’m Viana Marleen. Who was Dain?” she asked softly.
It took some time to answer. She was the first person other than Maralt to know of Dain’s death, making it more real, more undeniable. She waited him out. “My brother.”
Viana closed her eyes and he was surprised to see tears in them. She nodded, patting his hand. “I’m very sorry.” She stood, handing him a small bell. “You sleep now. If you need anything, just ring this. Don’t worry yourself about it either. The more you get help now, the quicker you’ll get your strength back. Any time, you hear me? I’ll not tolerate any foolishness, now that I’ve got you on the way to health again.”
Dynan suddenly felt exhausted. A grey cloud came up and swallowed him. He didn’t hear her leave the room.
When he next opened his eyes, light streamed in through a window he hadn’t noticed before. He felt better too, but he became aware of a sudden, urgent need to relieve himself. He pushed up slowly, discovering as long as he was careful he could do it. He didn’t really want to ring for help in this, stubborn pride or not, but realized he might need to when he stood and nearly fell. The table proved sturdy enough to support him and he discovered a chamber pot beneath it.
He stood for a moment, pushing back the curtains to look outside, squinting in the unaccustomed brightness. He saw a brood of chickens picking busily at the ground, and beyond, the expanse of Viana and Riegle’s farm opened. A barn stood off to the left. He saw two men, young, strong, and sturdy going about their morning chores. Two of the four children, he thought, except they were probably older than he or close to the same age. He reached to draw the curtain closed.
He heard a gasp behind him and turned, startled, forgetting that he had nothing on. It wasn’t Viana, but a young woman who stared at him, really stared at him, brown eyes moving up to his. She wore her glossy black hair tied loosely and it draped down her shoulder. She was beautiful; the way young girls are before they realize it. All innocence. Her cheeks reddened, which only heightened her appeal.
Viana came in right behind her, and Dynan turned, wondering if the entire family had shared the same viewing.
“Rather ambitious of you, I should think,” Viana said briskly. “Elana. Your chores are waiting.”
“Yes, Mother.”
Dynan sat down, pulling the bedcovers up around him, but saw Elana watching still, until her mother firmly closed the door. “Well, this is a fine bit of work,” Viana said eyeing the chamber pot. “You could have just as easily fallen on the floor as managed this. I gave you that bell for a reason.”
Dynan shrugged, because he’d managed just fine.
Viana grunted. “Do you think you can stomach a bit of solid food? Fresh eggs, sausage, biscuits?”
Dynan started to nod and then suddenly remembered the meal he’d had with Dain. The same and their last together. Grief quenched his appetite. Such a simple thing too, silly almost, except for the terrible emptiness that reached out to drown him.
“You think on it a bit. I’ll check back in a moment.”
He slept again, but fitfully, dreams haunting his rest. Maralt chased him throughout, taunting him, constantly reminding him how he ran.
Dynan jerked awake, gasping, and pushed himself up. He drew up his knees, leaning on them, holding his head while the terrible visions faded. A callused hand touched his shoulder and he jumped, banging into the wall as he shied away.
“Easy, son. Easy now.”
A man sat in Viana’s usual place and she was right, Riegle Marleen wasn’t much to look at. His weathered brown skin, wrinkled from too much sunlight, matched his rusty hair. Dark, penetrating eyes met Dynan’s and held them for a long moment.
Slowly Dynan relaxed, easing back against the wall, trying to regain his composure and slow his racing heart. Riegle regarded him a moment longer. His hair was closely cropped. Dynan imagined a frown at the length of his own. Reputable, decent men didn’t wear their hair long. Riegle must think him some sort of rogue.
“How long...” His voice faltered and he couldn’t speak.
“All day yesterday and today,” Riegle said, guessing his meaning, and surprising Dynan with the answer. Riegle poured him a glass of water, handing it to him. “Viana seems to think you need watching, but she’s busy with the evening meal now. I heard you in here muttering again. Bad business, it would seem, with your brother and all. I lost a brother a few years back. We were close, so I know how it feels. I’ve got six more to share the burden. Maybe that’s helped. Maybe not. You have other kin?”
“No,” Dynan whispered and again the swift, stark realization struck him that he was truly alone. The only relative he had left was an enemy he wanted to kill. He looked down at his hands and found them shaking. With a start, he realized his rings were missing.
“I’ve got them here,” Riegle said, and produced them from his shirt pocket. He drew out the chain with the crystal ball as well and the white stone Bador had given him. “I’ve wondered since you came in, looking about as far from a rich man as I’ve ever seen, yet you have these baubles, your ship carries more gold than I’ve set eyes on in a life time, and that’s a right fancy sword you have. No, I won’t ask for an explanation. As long as you can look me in the eye and tell me you haven’t stolen any of these things, I’ll leave it at that.”
“I didn’t,” Dynan said, looking at him, as requested. Slowly, he put both rings on his finger. He looked at the crystal a moment before slipping the chain over his head, followed by Bador’s talisman.
“You’ve killed a man or two in your short life, I’ll wager.” Riegle would never know how much Dynan wanted to deny that, more memories clouding his mind, from the first night he ever found it necessary to kill, to the last man he’d killed in rage and fear. Riegle nodded to the scar predominant on Dynan’s chest. “And by the look of you, nearly died more than a few times from the trouble you’re in. Bad business indeed that I don’t want to know more of. Not much to do except move on as best you can. Maybe you’d like to come out, and take your meal with us. Might help take your mind away from it.”
Dynan started to shake his head. He didn’t think he could stand that long and the thought of food turned his stomach.
“Or I could come in here and make you eat something.” He stood and went to the chest, drawing out a set of clothes. “We brought these in from your ship.”
Dynan watched him, really resenting that this man, a total stranger, expected him to do as he was told, or would see to it by force. He grabbed up the clothes and while Riegle regarded him, struggled to put them on. He stood too fast, in anger. Riegle caught him quickly and kept him standing until the dizziness eased. Dynan felt ashamed then for the unnecessary display of anger. These people had kept him alive, like it or not, only because they were kind, caring, and decent people who dealt with what they were given with little complaint. Riegle didn’t seem to be troubled by the outburst.
Riegle opened the door for him and then stayed near, holding him lightly by the arm. Dynan guessed he probably looked a little unsteady, and in truth, he felt that way. There seemed a lightness about his movements that spoke of infirmity. His leg in particular, where he’d been stabbed, ached with every step. He was led from the front of the house into a long, narrow hall that had other doors, which he guessed were bedrooms, then through a large living room that opened onto the kitchen and eating area.
“Riegle, he’s not nearly—” Viana started when she saw them.
“Relax, Mother. He’s been in that room too long and besides, he insisted.”
Dynan stared at him. Riegle’s weathered face broke into a quick grin as he helped to seat Dynan at the table. They ate in an extension of the kitchen next to the sitting room where a big stone fireplace and mantle dominated the room. It held mismatched pieces of well-made furniture, some of them obviously crafted right here on the farm. There were plenty of chairs, but no couch. The pelt of a large white bear hung on the wall next to the mantle, and a woven rug covered the wood floor.
The table was equally large to seat the entire family with a few guests if need be. Dynan was introduced to all the children, but he could hardly think of them as such. They were grown or nearly grown. Elana was the youngest at eighteen, preceded by Broq by a mere fourteen months. Rorin and Drey the older boys, were closer to his age. Rorin seemed older. Both were large young men in their prime, strengthened by the hard work they managed on the farm, and Dynan sensed not enthusiastic about his presence, even though they greeted him politely.
During all the introductions the food was put on and a mad sort of free for all ensued, where food was heaped on plates, bowls passed, biscuits and butter, and a large jug of wine that he got a watered down, half-glass of. Viana served his plate, piling it with more food than he’d seen in one sitting. The moment the plates were filled, she paused in the bustle, and everyone quickly settled, heads bowing, hands crossing over hearts. Dynan prepared himself for the standard blessing, surprised when that didn’t happen.
“Praise be to the Gods who watch over us and provide our daily lives with plenty, and for bringing back to health our friend and brother. Praise be.” Viana nodded her head. Plain, simple, and to the point. Dynan thought he rather liked it.
A breath after the responding “praise be”, everyone dove into their meal. Dynan sipped his wine instead, trying to bring up some sort of appetite. The food looked good, especially the slab of roast meat, dripping in juice. Stirred potatoes with gravy, cut corn and beans, cheese and apples, and three different kinds of bread rounded out the meal. It all smelled incredibly good.
At first, he couldn’t eat more than a bite or two. His stomach hurt, but he began to realize the pain he felt was gnawing hunger. He saw Viana smiling and then noticed the same expressions around the table as he ate. Riegle was the only one who seemed uninterested.
Each day he grew stronger. To Dynan it seemed to take a long time, making progress in small increments. He couldn’t stay out of bed for more than a few minutes at a time, usually long enough to eat, before weariness sent him back to rest, occasionally overtaking him where he sat. He found speaking difficult, but no one seemed to care. They were all aware of the loss he’d suffered. They never asked him about it, but when they found him staring vacantly at nothing, or waking from a nightmare, they smiled sadly and patted his arm, or sat with him until he fell back asleep.
There were still many days where he didn’t think he could stand it, existing without his brother. There were days he didn’t want to, stayed in bed and wouldn’t have eaten except for Riegle Marleen. As the days and weeks went by, those days, the horrible, black days of despair and grief grew fewer in occurrence.
Nothing he did, no amount of concentration eased the constant headache he had. He discovered that looking at the dragon crystal helped lessen the pain he was in. Frequently he ended up inside it, curled up in the interior of the orb, surrounded by a soft golden yellow light where nothing could touch him. He couldn’t feel anything, pain or grief, and slept without dreams or nightmares. When he ended up staying inside it for days in a row, he realized the danger of using it too much to escape what had to be faced. After that, Viana made a point of forcing him awake every morning.
Slowly, he was able to stay up longer and finally felt well enough to do something other than sit. He started helping around the house, and Viana allowed it, but at first she hovered near at hand. Everyone in the family had chores to perform and Dynan took a few on himself. The Marleens didn’t seem to suffer any lack, but he felt he placed a burden on them anyway.
Where he proved most useful, according to Viana, was in helping her children with their studies. Broq, in particular appreciated the assistance. He was studying to become a pilot. Dynan learned a thing or two in the process, a fact that pleased Broq no end.
Elana enjoyed the attention for different reasons, which Dynan tried to ignore, but found difficult. She was an enticing young woman. She apparently thought the same about him, but other than at her once weekly lessons and meal times, he didn’t see much of her. He wondered if her two oldest brothers weren’t keeping her away on purpose.
Not that he’d given them any cause, or at least Dynan didn’t think he had. He did recall a few nights while helping Elana with the dishes when he might have stood closer to her than was necessary, or perhaps it was the other way around. He knew he felt attracted to her, but he also knew he didn’t intend to do anything about those feelings. She was too young anyway, and the last thing she needed was to get too closely involved with someone like him. Besides there was the oath. He was afraid to test the theory that it was more than words he’d said, but enforced by a power he didn’t understand and didn’t like to think about. Most of the time, he avoided thinking about girls at all.
So as he got stronger, Dynan spent more time with Broq as the days passed and saw less and less of Elana. Finally one day, he got up the courage to go out to the XR-30.
The path of destruction amazed him, finding many trees cut off near the tops and more completely smashed the closer they came to the ship’s resting-place. He saw that some work had been done already to clear the wreckage away. The ship itself remained covered by branches. The arrangement of brush led him to believe it was done on purpose, but when he looked to Broq, he acted like he didn’t notice. The XR-30 stood unevenly, half slid up over a pile of boulders, its nose crumpled, and a lot of sophisticated equipment destroyed.
Dynan soon discovered that the way the ship had landed was the least of his problems. He knew he was in trouble when the ramp wouldn’t open all the way or close. Inside was worse. He couldn’t get any of the controls to function. The ship was dead.
Broq showed more enthusiasm at the situation than Dynan thought possible, or could understand. The prospect of completely rebuilding the XR-30’s circuitry held no appeal for him, but Broq looked at it as a tremendous opportunity for him to learn how a ship like this worked and was put together. Dynan didn’t know where to even start.
Dain would have. He would have attacked the problem the way he attacked everything.
“You all right?” Broq asked, watching him.
Dynan blinked, then nodded. He moved to the ramp, meaning to leave. He’d seen enough. Broq seemed disappointed, but came along without comment. For two days Dynan refused to do anything more about the XR-30, not even to think about it, but Broq proved persistent. Reluctantly, Dynan returned to begin the long, arduous process of making repairs.
After two weeks of frustrating failures to get the power back up, they finally managed it, but for moments only. In that time, Dynan was able to figure out what else needed to be done, and the next day, the XR-30’s internal power came on and stayed that way.
Broq’s enthusiastic reaction was contagious, as was his optimism that they could fix the ship. “Better than new,” he said.
Dynan put his energies to good use and sent him to the nearest town, Gesta, to obtain, or in most instances to order parts. They used the guise of his studies, so that no one would wonder what he was doing with a lot of mismatched engine components. Many parts couldn’t be ordered, because Trevan had designed and built them. The low frequency transmitter was an unfortunate example. Without that, Dynan knew Carryn couldn’t track him.
They spent every morning out at the ship and the afternoons catching up on Broq’s chores. Rorin and Drey tolerated their brother’s absence, but showed no interest in getting involved with the ship repair project. They were more suited to the farm work they rooted their lives in. It was clear they would eventually take over for their father and already shouldered the majority of the work.
One day late afternoon, nearly three months since Dynan’s arrival, thinking that it was getting time for him to move on since the repairs to the XR-30 were mostly complete, he went to the barn looking for Broq. He heard a good deal of rustling overhead from the loft and climbed the ladder to see what was happening, but found Elana instead. She struggled with a huge pitch tine, loading piles of hay down the feed shut, swearing under her breath as she heaved another load. Dynan thought he heard his name mixed in with her grumbling while she berated her brothers at the same time, and his earlier suspicion was confirmed.
She turned sharply then, stopping when she saw him. Her cheeks colored and she turned with equal quickness back to her work. That she was angry about something was more than apparent.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, moving to help her.
“As if you didn’t know,” she said, pulling away. She continued muttering under her breath, viciously stabbing big chunks of hay and tossing them down below.
He thought he knew and he saw that along with anger, her pride was at risk. He wondered how many times over the past few years, as her blooming womanhood had become more apparent, her brothers had chased away the boys her own age who came to court. Then he’d come along, a man, not a boy, perfectly capable of fending off her overprotective family and he hadn’t. It must seem to her that he didn’t want to, or want her. In that she was mistaken and he thought it would help if he made that clear to her. At the same time, he also had to make it clear what wouldn’t happen.
“Elana.” He stopped her gently, turning her to him. She tossed her hair defiantly, dark eyes smoldering up at him. He met the gaze evenly, until the gentle scent of honey drifted up to him and he found he couldn’t remember what he meant to say.
Slowly her expression changed. A wondering smile spread across her lips. Her eyes softened and she moved closer to him. A step only and he couldn’t contain the shiver her touch caused, or hide it. She moved against him, head tilted back, lips parting and against all reason, he leaned and kissed her.
“You do. I knew it. Ever since I saw you, I knew it,” she said, kissing him again, her arms tightening around his neck. His better judgment left him and he lowered her down into soft, inviting hay. Instead of just telling her he found her attractive, he did a fairly good job of showing her.
She moaned softly beneath him, responding to his touch, driving his desire to a peak, and he hadn’t even managed to remove any of her clothes. He started to correct that situation, undoing the lacing of her blouse, kissing the soft curves of her breasts as he went. In the back of his mind, it started, the perpetually vigilant voice whispered to him, no. This he was not allowed. He had to stop or he would be stopped. He ignored it.
Below them, footsteps stomped into the barn. “Elana!”
They both jumped and she gasped silently, sitting up abruptly. “Yes, Father.”
Quickly, she brushed the hay off her clothes and hair, repaired her blouse in record time, then stood, grabbing the pitch tine as she moved to the edge of the loft. She peered down the ladder, smiling easily at Riegle while Dynan lay frozen where he was, knowing if her father came up and saw him, there would be big trouble. He had to admire her composure. His was completely gone.
“What are you doing, girl?”
She frowned at him. “I’m pitching hay, Father.”
“Well, your mother needs you in the house.”
“All right. I’m almost finished here.”
“See that you don’t take all day. I’ll be out in the fields.”
She waited a moment until she was certain he was gone before turning. Dynan started to shake his head, hardly recovered from the real fear that Riegle would catch him with his daughter, but Elana wasn’t so easily denied. She stopped his protests with another exquisite kiss.
He felt a sense of desperation in her, apparent in the way she almost forced herself against him, as if she thought this her last chance. He didn’t want to disappoint her. He didn’t want to get caught either. Above all that, he knew he wouldn’t be allowed. For whatever reason, he was bound to the oath he’d taken, willing or not.
“Elana.”
“No, please, don’t say it. We have time.”
“Time to do it all wrong.” He smiled, folding her hands in his to stop her. There were only so many times he could say no, he thought, before it might kill him. “That’s not what you want. It’s not what you need, and more importantly, it’s not what you deserve.”
It was about the most he’d said at one time since his recovery. She seemed a little surprised at the string of words. “No.”
“Some things are just not meant to be.”
“Because of my brothers.”
“Because of you and your family. They love you and don’t want to see you make a mistake you can’t take back. You won’t have to wait much longer, not with such stunning beauty. Your brothers won’t ever like the idea, but eventually a man will come along who’ll have time to deal with them.”
“Meaning you won’t.”
“Meaning I can’t. I’m not staying here. I can’t stay. I’ve stayed too long as it is. You don’t need that and I think you know it.” He stood before he lost his resolve completely. “Your mother is waiting. I’m more afraid of what she would do to me anyway.”
She did as he told her unhappily, but he stopped her once they were down, brushing away the growing tears. He kissed her, and in that instant regretted everything he’d said, regretted the life he had, regretted a vow he’d taken when he was sixteen years old. She turned from him and ran to the house.
Viana appeared beside him, startling him badly. She smiled while she looked after her daughter. “I knew you were an honorable man.”
Dynan glanced at her, shook his head, and let out a breath. “Sometimes I really hate it too.”
She laughed. “You are a dear.”
“Viana.” He stopped her from leaving. “I think it’s time I moved on.”
She started to protest, thought about it, and then nodded reluctantly. “Probably so.”
“Day after tomorrow.”
She nodded again and then looked him up and down. “You’ll want to clean off all that hay before Riegle sees you.” She left him and soft laughter echoed through the barn.
He and Broq spent the next day out at the ship, testing the engines and checking the other repairs. “I can’t believe you’re thinking of leaving. We haven’t finished half the repairs yet.”
“It’s time I was going.”
“Because of my sister.”
“Yes and no,” Dynan said. “Yes, because you and your brothers, not to mention your father, will end up hating me for what I want to do with your sister.”
Broq gasped and his eyes widened. “She’s hardly more than a girl. How can you—”
“Have you ever been with a woman?”
The question startled him into silence, but Dynan saw by the color flooding his face that the answer was yes. “What difference does that make?”
“You’re hardly two seconds older than she is. She’s not a little girl any more. It’s time you stopped thinking of her that way. If you don’t, she’ll end up running off with the next man who comes through here, regardless of how she feels about him. I’m pretty sure you’d hate that worse than if I stayed and had my way with her.”
Broq sat for a moment in fuming silence, but Dynan suspected he was at least thinking about it. “You said yes and no. What’s the other?”
“I can’t stay. It’s not a good idea for me to land in one place for long.”
“Someone after you?”
Dynan hesitated. “Yes.”
“He must be one mean bastard, if you’re running from him,” Broq said.
“He is,” Dynan said, trying not to think more about it. “Come on, we need to see about getting the landing gear down.”
They returned to the farm late day and while Broq went off to tend the animals, Dynan went inside to make a list of things that he would need from town to re-supply his ship. Elana and her mother were already starting preparations for the evening meal. Elana turned her back to him when she saw him come in, her posture indicating anything but good humor. He supposed he should have expected that attitude from her. Viana made him all the more uncomfortable when she purposefully left them alone. Dynan frowned after her briefly, then decided to see if Elana would ever talk to him again.
“Mother tells me you’re leaving,” she said before he had a chance to speak.
“Yes,” he said and waited.
“Because of me?”
“I’m leaving because I have to. I can’t stay here, as much as I would like to.”
“If you want to, why don’t you?”
“My life is a little too complicated,” he said, moving to stand next to her. He did like her, more than he should, and her anger with him made him feel worse than he expected.
“You’re in some sort of trouble.”
“That too. I’d like to get away from here before it catches up to me.” He told himself he had time. He reasoned if Maralt hadn’t found him before now, he’d likely lost the trail. And Carryn knew he was missing. She would be looking for him, probably frantic by now. Dynan thought it time he made it a little easier for her. Of course, moving increased the risk that Maralt would find him too.
Waiting behind every thought was the reality of Dain’s death, stalking him, waiting for a time to catch him. He didn’t know how he would face everyone else’s grief when he couldn’t yet face his own.
Elena’s cool fingertips brushing his cheek brought him back, and he managed a smile to ease her concern. “Do you think,” she said, “once this trouble is over with, you’ll ever come back here?”
Slowly, he had to shake his head. “If I could wish for a different life; I’ve been doing that a lot lately, believe me, I would never leave.”
After a time, she nodded and smiled at him, youthful optimism winning out over sadness. For Dynan, it wasn’t so easy. Elana slipped her arms around him, stood on tiptoe and kissed him. He did smile then and held her, kissing her back, wishing again that he didn’t have to go, wishing for that other life.
“One day, you are going to make some incredibly lucky man very happy,” he said, then let her go.
“Hmmm. I know four at least who won’t be if I don’t get this bread baked.”
“And I have to get my list ready for Broq.” He leaned and kissed her one last time.
From the back door, Riegle cleared his throat. Elana looked at him. “Just saying goodbye, Father.”
Riegle looked surprised. Dynan thought he saw a brief flash of regret cross his weathered face and then he grunted. “Really?”
“I thought Broq or Viana would have told you,” Dynan said.
“So am I the last to learn this?”
“Looks that way,” Elana said.
“Have you decided when?”
“Soon. Tomorrow night I think, unless my ship doesn’t make it off the ground. I wanted to ask if you would let Broq go into town for me in the morning.”
Riegle’s frown gave him the answer. “I need him in the fields tomorrow morning. I can’t put it off. He could go the next day, or you can go yourself if you can’t change your plans. You can use Boomer and the cart, of course.”
Dynan nodded, even when he didn’t want to go to town by himself, but he didn’t want to burden these people anymore than he already had. “I think I’ll do that then.”
“That ship of yours safe to fly?” he asked, moving in to sit at the table. Elana served them tall glasses of water and returned to her bread.
“Yes. Mostly.”
“Maybe you should take it to Central Control. They have pretty good facilities, or so Broq tells me.”
“No, I can’t. I mean, this ship has a few features that Central Control wouldn’t know what to do with.”
“Well, as long as you can fly it to these people who know how to fix it, then you ought to be all right.”
Dynan sat down with his list in hand. “I want to thank you—”
“No need to. Thank Viana if you feel like you have to. I just do what she tells me most of the time. She’s the one who stayed up nights with you.”
“If you didn’t want me here, we both know I wouldn’t be, so I’m thanking you anyway.”
Riegle smiled and nodded. “Your welcome, Dynan.”
He froze at the use of his real name. Riegle glanced at Elana to see if she’d noticed. All this time, Riegle had known who he was and never let on. He only acknowledged Dynan’s glance with a slight nod.
“You’ve repaid the trouble over and again with the added help. Smartest thing I ever did, making you get out of that bed and earn your keep.”
Viana appeared in the doorway, her hands on her hips. Dynan glanced back at Riegle. “And all this time I thought I insisted.”
“That’s what I thought,” Viana said, tisking at her husband. “You men move out of here. I’ve got dinner to fix.”
“Yes, Mother. I’ll go call the boys in.”
Dynan headed for the front porch to finally finish his list. Dinner arrived promptly at dusk and they all sat down together. He could tell by looking who knew and who didn’t. Everyone but Elana, it seemed, was aware of who he was. He found it a little surprising that these people accepted his presence without treating him any differently, as that hadn’t ever been the case once in his life.
He didn’t sleep well that night in spite of eating enough to be completely drowsy and ready for it. Mostly he lay awake wishing Elana would forget everything he’d told her and come to him, the Gods be damned. He wondered briefly if she was awake thinking the same thing of him. He growled at himself, rolled over, and finally fell asleep.
