The Dragon Nimbus Novels: Volume III: Volume III

only that a feared authority existed.
    None of the returning citizens or gangs came near the palace. No one came to check on the unnamed woman and her child who had been abandoned in the palace—except this itinerant trader. She trusted his strong arms and his politeness. Mostly she trusted his greed. He could have stolen the lace and sold it outland at a profit. But that would be the end of that market. By taking her under his wing, he guaranteed a continuing supply of lace. As long as she gave him a valuable product to sell, he would protect her and her daughter.
    “Have an eye to everything around you as we walk, Lady. I don’t think anyone will accost you on the way. Rovers still have a reputation in this land.” He flashed her a smile that bordered on vicious. “I’d like to concentrate on protecting the beast and the lace. So keep one eye on your daughter and the other on everyone and everything around you. Once aboard the ferry, my people will keep you from harm.”
    As if to emphasize his warning, the sounds of harsh words, blows exchanged, a scream, and running feet came from just outside the walls.
    The woman shuddered and closed her eyes a moment. Her people should be working together to rebuild, not fighting and stealing.
    “And these relatives of yours will take us all the way to the headwaters of the River Lenicc? All the way to safety?”
    “He said so. There’s a caravan gathering to go over the pass into Coronnan. We’ll be safe with them, but we have to get going. The journey is long. As it is, we might have to spend the winter in an abandoned monastery I know of on the other side of the pass. Find your daughter, Lady, and let us leave.”
    The ground shook once again as if to emphasize his order. The roof above the lace workroom collapsed, sending bricks and beams spraying over the courtyard. Zebbiah crouched down with his arms over his head and neck until the avalanche of debris ceased.
    “Jaranda!” the woman screamed. “Where are you, baby?” Panic filled her heart.
    The pack beast brayed again in protest at the disruption. It kicked out and then threatened to park its rear end down on the cobbles.
    Zebbiah cursed and kicked the creature to keep it on its feet.
    “Jaranda!” she called again. She whirled about, desperately seeking a sign of her child.
    “Here I am, M’ma.” The little girl skipped over loose cobblestones and fallen bricks from the far side of the courtyard, seemingly unconcerned despite the recent danger. She bounced a ball from the royal nursery.
    The woman nearly sagged with relief. She crouched down and hugged her daughter close.
    “Lady, you have never questioned traveling so far with me. You, a woman alone and unprotected. Me, a man you don’t know, have no reason to trust.”
    “You have not given me a reason not to trust you. As you said, prejudices must be learned. I have forgotten everything.”
    They stared at each other for a long silent moment, assessing, weighing, enjoying.
    He looked away first.
    “Jaranda, my love, I think I would like the name Trizia. Do you like that name? It means noble lady.” She pulled the little girl against her leg in a fierce hug, unwilling to let her stray again, even for a moment.
    “You are M’ma,” the little girl insisted. She stamped her foot in irritation. “M’ma.”
    “Trizia doesn’t fit,” Zebbiah added. He yanked the pack beast’s halter to start it moving.
    “I thought you’d say that.”

    “Twelve, thirteen, fourteen,” Marcus counted out loud the number of bags of gold on the first bank of shelves.
    He counted because Robb had told him to count. He could not think beyond the straight sequence of numbers, could not plan. If he stopped counting, he’d fall into deep despair.
    Yet the more he counted, the heavier he felt. Each movement and thought became an effort. The gloaming pressed against all of his senses. Soon he’d not be able to hold his head up, stand, talk, eat.
    “Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen.” He gulped back a sob.
    The monastery trapped them. His luck and his magic had drained out of him. The future looked hopeless.
    “Snap out of it, Marcus,” Robb barked. He spoke slowly as if he, too, swam through the thick air.
    “It all seems so hopeless.” Marcus rubbed two gold coins together in his pocket while he paused. “All this gold stashed away, gathering dust. It could be put to such good use—rebuilding the University, stabilizing the economy, increasing