Read The Godspeaker Trilogy Online
Authors: Karen Miller
Tags: #Science Fiction, #Fantasy, #Fiction / Fantasy / Epic
The Godspeaker Trilogy (233 page)
And he held her hand tightly until Mijak's warships had sailed from sight.
EPILOGUE
S
even and a half months later, Rhian stood in the grounds of battered Kingseat Castle, watching as the workmen at last began to rebuild her family's house. Despite Helfred's repeated urgings, she'd refused to have one new castle stone laid before the last dwelling and shop in Ethrea was repaired. Now her township was almost itself again…
Thank God, thank God. I want my home back.
A breeze from the bustling harbour ruffled her growing hair and swirled her blue linen gown about her legs. She preferred her huntsman's leathers but it was Alasdair's birthday. In honour of the occasion she'd worn a wretched dress.
She heard his familiar tread on the re-grown lawn and turned, surprised. He'd said he had work to do, and would leave her to gloat over the castle in private. Now he was here, and to her astonishment was huffing and puffing, carrying a large canvas-wrapped crate.
“Rollin's mercy – what kind of gift is that? And why would you bring it all the way up here?”
He grinned as he let the crate slide to the ground. “It's a gift that's travelled a considerable distance. And it's not mine. It's yours.”
Hers? And then she felt her heart trip. Felt the salty air catch in her throat. Could it be? Could it be?
Alasdair's knife quickly cut through the stitchings on the canvas, which fell away to reveal a sturdy wooden box with a clasp. Heart beating even harder, she opened it.
Oh. Dexterity.
The box was full of toys. Carved and painted and beautiful toys. Striped horses, stringed falcons with intricate wings that could fly. Sandcats and lizards and monkeys and ibis.
So many toys, made with so much love.
“At last!” said Alasdair, peering over her shoulder. “I was beginning to think he'd been swallowed alive.”
So was she, but she'd never said so. They didn't talk of Dexterity, in case it was bad luck.
“Is there a letter?” said Alasdair. “I want to know what he's been up to.”
So did she, and looked through the box. “No,” she said, disappointed.
“Oh well,” said Alasdair. “I suppose paper's hard to come by, in Mijak. Perhaps next time.”
One by one, she held every single toy, remembering her friend. Remembering the toymaker who'd saved a slave, saved a princess, saved that princess's kingdom…who'd travelled so far away to save an enemy from itself.
She laughed.
“What's so funny?” said Alasdair, puzzled.
“Nothing,” she said, because it was either laugh or weep.
And then she stood with her husband, with her king, with Alasdair, and smiled at Kingseat harbour, that busy jewel in the sun. Smiled at the trading ships from Keldrave and Barbruish and Harbisland.
From haughty Tzhung-tzhungchai, whose emperor was Han.
“Come on,” said Alasdair, his arm around her shoulders. “We'd best be on our way. It's Litany tonight, remember?”
Tcha . She'd forgotten. If she didn't go, Helfred would moan.
Alasdair bent to pick up the box of toys. Before he closed its lid, she snatched a cheeky-faced monkey…
… and rode to town in the gig with it warm in her hand.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
Stephanie Smith, my editor. She has the patience of a saint and I tried it with this project. Stephanie, you're an angel. The god sees you in its eye.
Mark Timmony, who saved my bacon with his lovely maps.
The guys who make me look better than I am, my beta reader Usual Suspects – Mary, Elaine, Pete, Glenda and Mark.
extras
meet the author
K
AREN
M
ILLER
was born in Vancouver, Canada, and moved to Australia with her family when she was two. She started writing stories while still in primary school, where she fell in love with speculative fiction after reading The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe . Over the years she has held down a wide variety of jobs, including horse stud groom in Buckingham, England. She is working on several new novels. Visit the official Karen Miller Web site at
www.karenmiller.net
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