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Olav's tactful reassurances gave her the time to regain use of her throat and
vocal cords. Her throat was on fire, her stomach throbbing, and her eyes
watered. Which seemed a good cue to develop. She allowed her tears to flow and
reached weakly for Olav's hand to support her. Instantly she felt Lars take
her right arm, and the two men led her to the other elaborate chair in the
chamber, seating her as if she were suddenly fragile.
"I am overset. Anyone would be, enduring what I have," Killashandra said,
using her sobbing to purge the last dregs of anger, for she estimated that
she'd worked that pitch long enough. "All alone, on that wretched island, not
knowing where I was, if I'd ever be rescued. And then the hurricane . . ."
A second glass was proffered. When she glared at Olav, he winked.
Nevertheless, she sipped cautiously. Polly wine.
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"Please accept my apologies, Elder Torkes, but that ridiculous weapon was the
last straw." Her voice died away but she managed to sound reasonably sincere.
Then she smiled weakly at the nonplussed Elder, and fluttered her eyelashes at
his attendants. They seemed afflicted by some sort of paralysis. It afforded
Killashandra considerable satisfaction that she had managed to confound an
entire Optherian crew. They had stood in
great need of such a lesson. She relaxed into the cushioned back of the chair.
"There isn't an islander in this Archipelago who would do you any injury,
Guildmember," Olav continued, now offering her a finely stitched handkerchief.
"Especially after the news of your devoted nursing of the Bar
Island injured. When I consider how unselfishly you volunteered to assist, and
you only an hour away from being rescued, why, we are all in your debt."
Shielding her face from Torkes with the handkerchief, Killashandra looked up
at Olav. She blotted the last of the tears she could manage to squeeze out.
She had received his message. She gave a sniff, then exhaled in a huge sigh.
"What else could I do? Their need was far greater than mine for I
had suffered no real physical injury. It was excellent therapy," and she
managed that on a rush of breath, "for me to tend those less fortunate than
I. And I do feel safe with you, Harbor Master, and with Captain Dahl!" She
touched each man on the arm, favoring them with a tremulous smile. Lars
managed to give her shoulder an admonitory pinch which, she felt, indicated
that she had milked this scene for all it was worth. "I hope you didn't
encounter that ferocious storm on your way here, Elder Torkes?"
"Not at all, Guildmember. In fact," Torkes cleared his throat nervously, "we
didn't set out until sure that the hurricane had dwindled. I
ought to have listened to Mirbethan's representations, Captain" -- he turned
to the senior officer behind him -- "for she offered to accompany us,
Guildmember, on the slim chance that we would discover you here."
"How very kind of her."
"She would have been an ideal companion to settle your nerves, Guildmember."
"Yes, she was most considerate but, though I appreciate her willingness, I now
insist on someone . . ." she waved a negligent hand in
Lars's direction, "who is capable of managing himself in difficulties. I
have seen Captain Dahl in action, fighting to bring his ship close enough to
take me off that island, and in dealing with high seas, and injured people."
And that should be the end of that notion. Had it been
Mirbethan's? Or Ampris's? From whichever source, she'd not spend credit on it.
"If I may suggest it, Guildmember, would you be feeling recovered enough to
dine now?" Olav asked, deftly changing the subject. "Or should
Captain Dahl escort you to the quarters prepared for you here in the
residence?"
"Why, yes," Killashandra said, extending her hand to Lars and smiling
graciously at Olav, "I think that perhaps hunger is at the root of my
deplorable temper. I'm not usually so easily upset, citizens." Now that the
scene had been played, she was ravenous and hoped that Olav's hospitality
would be to the standard she expected. It was, and she was seated on Olav's
right at the beautifully appointed banquet table. Torkes was opposite her,
Teradia appearing at his right hand. Evidently she had merely had to change
her gown. Killashandra did wonder how she had arrived so promptly. Other
charmingly dressed ladies partnered the officers of
Torkes's retinue and from some discreet corner delicate music wafted to the
diners' ears.
The food was sumptuous, a feat, considering the island had so recently been in
the throes of a hurricane. As Killashandra sampled the many dishes presented,
she realized that the components were not as varied as the manner in which
they had been prepared. Polly -- fruit, pulp, and heart -- was the basis of
nine dishes. Smacker was served as a chowder, boiled, broiled, fried in a
delicious light batter and in a rich piquant sauce. The largest yellowbacks
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she had yet seen had been lightly broiled with slivered nuts. A succulent
mollusk was offered, grilled with a dollop of some flavor enhancer. There were
salads of greens, molded salads of some
jellied vegetable, fruit, and fish.
From the way in which Torkes's officers filled their plates, and refilled them
when the dishes were presented a second time, they weren't used to eating.
Torkes was abstemious by comparison although a fair trencherman away from
Elder Pentrom's dietary regimen. He did not refuse the wine, either, though
his two senior captains did.
When the first hunger was appeased, Torkes addressed Lars, his expression far
too bland to be as affable as he sounded.
"Just where did you discover the Guildmember, Captain Dahl?"
"On a polly islet slightly east of Bar Island. I don't normally pass by for
it's a bit off the regular trade route, but with the higher tides to give me
clearance over the reef in that area, I could take a bit of a short cut to
Bar, which I aimed to beach before sunset."
"Do you have this islet marked on your charts?"
"Of course, Elder Torkes. I will show you its location immediately after
dinner." Lars had one hand on her thigh under the table and gave her a
reassuring squeeze. Had his father tipped him off as he had her? "As well as
the entry in my log which verifies the position."
"You keep a log?"
"Of a certainty, Elder Torkes. The Harbor Master is most insistent on such
details which are, in my view, an integral part of responsible seamanship." [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]