The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume I: Volume I

left. A flicker of either hand would invoke the much older ward against Simurgh.
    Brevelan backed away from him. She knew she shouldn’t trust him. What few emotions he allowed to escape fluctuated wildly.
    With a low groan of wood pushing against wood, the bridge shuddered and collapsed, one plank at a time. The Guildman held up the linchpin on his side of the river. “This is the only bridge onto Last Isle. You’ll not be leaving ’afore I come back with my captain, witch,” he hissed, as he climbed back into his boat.
    Now what? Brevelan stood in indecision and near panic. Her fingers itched to throw a spell at the man. He would look very nice as a strutting flustercock. Not today. She had a Rover woman to find before the Guild caught up with her. Then she’d worry about getting back to the University.
    The image of a fat rodent appeared in her mind. Mica wanted to chase the self-important river-rat into a pile of refuse where he belonged.
    “Next time,” Brevelan promised the cat.
     
    “What do you mean, Brevelan went in search of a Rover woman?” Jaylor yelled for any and all to hear. The fact that Darville was within a pace of him, and he sat in the middle of the library where quiet reigned didn’t affect the volume of his protest.
    “Since when have I had any control over Brevelan?” Darville asked quietly. “I’m still her favorite ‘puppy.’ ” He slumped against the doorjamb.
    Jaylor knew that pose, knew the worry behind Roy’s eyes and the coiled tension in his back and thighs. He’d seen it too many times over the years.
    “How long has she been gone, Roy?” Jaylor thrust aside the tome of magic to grab his notes. If he had to find his wife and a Rover woman, he wanted the aid of the simple binding spell he’d spent a night and a day puzzling over.
    “Too long. She left before noon and the sun is now about an hour to setting. Even Old Baamin is getting anxious, and he sent her out. Oh, and she took Mica with her.”
    “Does that signify something?” Jaylor stared again at Darville’s posture. The prince was definitely in a high state of agitation.
    “Mica signifies a great deal. You haven’t seen some of the tricks she has pulled recently. There are people in my capital who would dearly love to drown that pesky cat and anyone who tries to protect her.”
    “There seems to be something you are not telling me, Darville.”
    “Some things I don’t even tell Baamin. But if you will find three women for me, I’ll let you in on all my secrets.
    “Only three women, Roy? Are you losing your touch or becoming more conservative in your old age?”
    “Neither. I have fallen in love.”
    “Last spring you were in love with Brevelan.”
    “I still am, in a way. But she is your wife now, the mother of your child. I can’t intrude on that relationship.”
    “What if the child is yours?”
    They’d never had any secrets from each other. Right from the start the two boys had been brutally honest with each other. Lies ended with black eyes and swollen jaws when they were found out.
    “Impossible. She married you.”
    “She rescued me. You know her compulsion to heal. The child didn’t affect her decision.”
    “She rescued me, too, at one time. But she refused to marry me. I can only presume she chose the father of her child.”
    “How could she tell?”
    “Women know.”
    “Does your new woman know that you love her? Do you know you really love her?”
    “I am hopelessly, irrevocably . . . passionately in love with Mikka.”
    “Mica?”
    “Mikka. There’s a difference. Now, help me find them. I’ve searched most of the capital with a troop of trusted cavalry. But my citizens don’t trust anyone in uniform.”

Chapter 19
     
    B rambleberries! The last small ones of the season drooped on the vines. Yaakke plucked a handful and thrust them into his dry mouth. The sourness started a flood of saliva. His stomach growled. The berries barely filled the gnawing emptiness that was the aftermath of too many spells thrown too quickly.
    Stargods! he was hungry. He hadn’t felt this empty since his early days as a kitchen drudge and his meals were whatever scraps he could steal before the other servants found them. More than once he’d had to fight for the meager pickings and ended up bruised and supperless.
    That’s when he began listening to other people’s thoughts—to protect himself. He’d been listening for as long as he could remember, without knowing he was doing