The Seven Towers Read Free

bruised his ribs after all, not broken them. Jermain sat up carefully. He was considering what to do next when the door swung open.
    “Be quiet, Garren,” said a female voice, and the squirrel stopped chattering at once. An instant later, the woman who had rescued Jermain from the guards appeared in the doorway. She went straight to the table without bothering to shut the door behind her. She set down the armload of plants she was carrying, then turned to observe the air in Jermain’s general vicinity.
    “I’m so glad you’re feeling better,” she said. “That is, if you are. You haven’t said anything about it, so perhaps you aren’t, which wouldn’t be at all surprising, what with losing all that blood and breaking a rib and so on, though possibly you’d rather I didn’t go into detail. Still, I do think it’s a mistake not to talk about unpleasant things, even if people are sensitive; after all, if one worried all the time about offending people, one would never say anything, which in some cases would be a very good thing.”
    “I am glad of the chance to thank you for your timely rescue, lady,” Jermain said. He rose and bowed, wincing. “My name is Jermain Trevannon.”
    “How nice for you,” the woman said. “Mine is Amberglas. Do sit down again; you really aren’t recovered yet, and it would be inconvenient for me to have to put you back together again.”
    The bed creaked as Jermain sat down. The squirrel made a disapproving noise. Amberglas pulled out one of the chairs and seated herself at the table. She picked up one of the plants she had brought in and blinked at it, then set it aside and took another.
    “Lemon verbena is quite out of season,” she said. “Still, it ought to be good for something, if I can only think what; nearly everything is. Except skunk weed. If you can think of a use for a skunk weed plant, you may have the one growing at the edge of my garden. I can’t imagine why I leave it there, but if you take it, then of course I’ll know. Why ever were all those unpleasant people chasing you?”
    Jermain hesitated. “I’m an outlaw,” he said at last. He was surprised by the bitterness in his voice; he’d thought he was used to it by now.
    “That has nothing to do with it,” Amberglas said firmly. “There are a great many outlaws in the mountains, and the Sevairn Border Guards never bother with any of them, which is extremely shortsighted but quite understandable since most of the outlaws are far better at fighting than the guardsmen. It really reflects rather poorly on King Marreth’s training program, but perhaps he doesn’t care about outlaws.”
    “Well, he cares about this one,” Jermain said shortly.
    “Yes, I know. Or at least, I’d know if you would tell me, which isn’t the same thing at all, but is actually quite close, if you think about it.” Amberglas was still sorting plants, seemingly at random. “Why?”
    Jermain studied the woman. Her questions seemed innocent enough, but experience made him reluctant to be too trusting. On the other hand, he had no reason to believe that Amberglas would suddenly hand him over to the very people she had helped him escape. Furthermore, he owed her some explanation; however much he would prefer not to answer, the woman had a right to know whom she had rescued. “King Marreth fears I may return to Leshiya,” Jermain said at last.
    “Yes, of course,” Amberglas said to the black bird. “If he didn’t, he wouldn’t send guards after you. Although it does seem a little unusual for a king to be afraid of an outlaw, but then, I haven’t known very many outlaws, so perhaps it’s more common than I’d thought.”
    “Most outlaws don’t come from the King’s court in Leshiya.”
    “No, that’s quite true. At least, I think it is. I knew a thief once who was from the capital of Tar-Alem, and there are quite a few murderers who come from good families, but that isn’t exactly the same thing. Still, a great