Page 77 of The Stormbringer

But Thyran was likely rebuilding, too, or would soon start. Knowing that, Amris thought, and having fled from one attack already, a farmer or a shopkeeper would likely hesitate before returning—and certainly before bringing their family back.

“Are the others staying here?” he asked. “The Sentinels?”

“Emeth and Katrine are.”

Much to Ninnian’s disappointment.

“Really?” Amris asked.

“He’s been doing experiments with Katrine and Olvir, since her main blessing comes from Tinival. But they haven’t come to much, and given how effective she is against Gizath’s creatures, the Order couldn’t justify sending her to Affiran. Emeth’s animals can give good warning if Thyran or his people move in this direction again, and those two work well together.”

Not unlike some other people, said Gerant.

In a phenomenon almost as rare as that which had felled Thyran, Darya actually blushed. “Last I heard,” she went on quickly, “Branwyn’s going to Heliodar. Criwath can send word to the other kingdoms and they’ll listen, but there’s too much bad blood with the Heliodar Council—and more, maybe, things that a Sentinel might need to check into. Bran’s the best of us at passing for a regular human.”

“Gods go with her,” said Amris. He remembered Heliodar only vaguely firsthand. It had joined the war eventually, but after a great deal of division.

I always thought,Gerant added,that we should have turned over more rocks there and found either what loyalties Thyran might have left or how he found his way to Gizath so quickly.

“Yes,” said Amris, “but there were ten things to fill every hour by then—and more after, I’d imagine.”

Precisely.

“And that’s Bran’s mission, thank the gods. Court intrigue—ugh.” Darya made a face. “Even if it is in pretty surroundings. Criwath’s got nearly as much real art, in its own style, and not nearly as many political mazes.”

“It was a pleasant country, as I remember it,” Amris agreed, “though I’d imagine it, too, has changed.”

“Probably.” Darya looked up at him with a small, rueful smile. “I’ll do what I can, but I’m not much of a guide, especially once we get off the borders. Best you can do with me is being outsiders together, you know.”

Amris didn’t have to bend far to kiss her. It was an awkward process with his sling, but it was soft, slow, and gentle. The rain fell quietly beyond their shelter, soldiers called cheerfully to one another while they piled stones, and Darya’s mouth was warm and seeking against his. Gerant surrounded them both, a gentle presence in their minds, a faint haze of green, and a soothing hum, not intruding on the kiss itself but a happy witness and one whose joy added to their own.

Eventually Amris drew a little way back, but he didn’t let her go. “Beloved,” he said, “if you gave me another hundred years to consider it, I could think of no fate I’d prefer.”