Necessity's Child (Liaden Universe®) Read Free Page A

Mik—that was no longer his job. No less a personage than his mother had said that he might put the order of Runig’s Rock behind him; that such arrangements were not required within the clanhouse. Still, it was not so easy to do as to say. They had been his to keep safe; his to decide for, if it came to such measures. They were his cousins; he was elder to them—surely that still held, even in-House?
    Mik complained again, fretfully louder. If he kept up like that, he would wake Shindi, and then everyone would know. A tale-teller’s voice, had Shindi. At least, so Grandfather said.
    Syl Vor slipped closer to the little bed, and peered over the low rail. Mik was asleep, but muttering, likely caught in some dream of his own. Carefully, Syl Vor stroked the soft cheek, murmuring, like he used to do at the Rock, when they were pretending and it was his job to keep them quiet.
    Mik’s eyelashes fluttered, his small body tensing toward wakefulness.
    “Mik, sweet one, sleep, brave child,” Syl Vor whispered, which were the words he had learned from Grandfather. He moved his hand to smoothe the rumpled dark hair.
    Mik sighed, his body relaxing back to sleep.
    Syl Vor continued to murmur, his hand against his cousin’s cheek, only a little longer, to be certain—and then looked up, hearing a step in the larger room outside.
    In a moment, Mrs. pel’Esla arrived, murmuring crossly, “. . . like to know how that cat—” She cut her complaint off at the sight of Syl Vor leaning over the crib, and sighed.
    “Are you wakeful, child?”
    “I heard Mik fretting,” he said, which was true, even as it sidestepped her question. “I was worried, in case he should wake Shindi.”
    “And woe to us all, in that case,” Mrs. pel’Esla said. She stepped to the crib and looked in.
    “You have a good touch with your cousins,” she said. “They honor you.”
    Syl Vor felt warmed. “I did my best to take care of them.”
    “That you did—and they remember it,” the nurse said. “Now, though, you must care for yourself. Can you find your bed in the dark? Would you like some hot milk to help you sleep?”
    “It’s not so dark,” Syl Vor told her, and, “No, thank you.”
    “Then I shall again bid you good-night, young Syl Vor,” Mrs. pel’Esla said. “I will look in on you after I settle this young rogue, in case you change your mind, about the milk.”
    “Thank you,” Syl Vor said, and ran his finger down Mik’s cheek one more time before he left the alcove and went back to his empty room.
    . . . which was not so empty, after all.
    There, curled among the blankets, was a rangy orange cat with white feet. She looked up when Syl Vor entered—and squinted her eyes in a cat smile.
    Syl Vor pressed his hand against his mouth to keep from laughing.
    “Eztina, you know Mrs. pel’Esla doesn’t like you here at night.”
    The cat yawned, and Syl Vor bit his lip, concentrating very hard on not laughing as he climbed into bed and scooched under those blankets not held down by cat.
    He curled around on his side and closed his eyes, Eztina tucked into the curve of his belly, and he flicked a corner of the coverlet over her. The cat began to purr, and Syl Vor rode that pleasant sound into a deep and dreamless sleep.

CHAPTER FOUR

    It could not be expected that the Bedel would long submit to meekness—so said Silain the luthia to Alosha the headman.
    The headman sighed to hear it, and fingered his pipe from his belt, and his smoke-pouch from his vest pocket.
    “In truth, we were made to wander, and wander, that we will.”
    Kezzi, sitting with Malda at some little distance from the luthia ’s hearth recognized the line from one of the Truing Songs. The next line rose unbidden to her mind, and she hastily pushed it aside. She was supposed to be listening, not remembering!
    “Has wandering brought sorrow,” Silain asked, “or joy?”
    “Neither, as I parse it,” Alosha said, filling his pipe and tamping the leaf down with