The Well of Shades Read Free

about that, since he never bothered to let me knowwhere he was…” She faltered to a halt, eyes on Faolan’s face. “Just tell me. Please.” She sat down abruptly, and the dog came to stand by her. It was hard to say which was the more pathetic specimen; both were disheveled and looked half-starved. The fire in the rudimentary hearth was barely alight, the wood basket near empty. Faolan could see no sign of food or drink in the place, just empty crockson a shelf and a bucket of water.
    He cleared his throat. “It’s bad news, I’m afraid. I had hoped to tell your aunt first.”
    She waited, utterly still.
    “Deord—your father—I’m afraid he’s dead, Eile.” Not a flicker on the neat features, not a twitch of the thin lips. “He was killed in early autumn, up in the north of Priteni lands. There was… a battle. I got there too late to save him, and hedied of his wounds. I buried him in the forest. Eile, he was a good man. A brave man.” No words could capture Deord’s transcendent valor or his deep serenity.
    Eile bowed her head a little. One hand went out to touch the dog, moving against its neck. Her fingernails were bitten to the quick, the hands raw and chapped. She said nothing.
    “He asked me, when he was dying, to come here and break thenews. It was a heroic end, Eile. He gave his life so that I and two friends could escape from certain death. If I say I am sorry, I don’t expect you to believe it. You don’t know me, and you can’t know how it happened. But I am sorry; sorry at the waste of such a fine man. He loved you. I am certain of it.” That part was a lie.
    “That’s not true.” Eile spoke in a whisper. “If he’d loved us, hewould have stayed. He wouldn’t have just… gone.”
    “I don’t know how much you were told about his past. Perhaps there were reasons for what he did.”
    Abruptly, the anger returned to the girl’s eyes. “If he was going to leave, he never should have come back,” she said. “It’s cruel to let people think everything’s going to be all right again, and then take that away. Then Mother went, too. Nevermind. That’s of no possible interest to you. You’ve told your news, you can go now.”
    Outside the rain was hammering down. Faolan observed three different places where drips were coming through the roof.
    Seeing him looking, Eile laid the knife on the table, gotup and moved automatically to set vessels beneath them. “I never did learn to mend thatch,” she said shakily.
    “Doesn’t your uncle dothat kind of thing?”
    She gave a snort. “Uncle? Oh, you mean Dalach?” She spoke this name with chill distaste. “He’s got other interests. Didn’t you hear me? I said you can go.”
    “If that’s what you want. I would like to speak with your aunt; tell her what I know. Perhaps in the morning.” Faolan rose to his feet. “You shouldn’t be alone in the house overnight.”
    “Why not?” Her expression was bleak,resigned. “They go away all the time. I’m used to it. I prefer it. Except when strangers come knocking, and I can deal with them.”
    “Yes, I’m sure you can.” Faolan thought of the pitchfork. “I don’t think Deord would be happy if he knew your circumstances here. I’m sure some arrangement can be made…” He had not thought this would be necessary. He had assumed Deord’s sister would be comfortablysettled, and that he’d need only to tell his tale and move on. But this was pitiful. Something was wrong here, surely; something more than poverty. Brennan and the other villagers had seemed good enough souls. Why had this girl been allowed to dwindle to skin and bone, a frail creature who seemed held together only by her desperate anger? The circumstances of Deord’s death had meant any savings theman had were inaccessible. Faolan, however, had wealth of his own, accumulated through years of working at kings’ courts. There had been little to spend his silver on. He had neither wife nor children; his parents