Gallel's Heir

Chapter 8.1: Sketches and Nightmares

Harren felt strong enough to rise soon after the second hour of the day; Canúden sat at the table eating breakfast when she entered the kitchen. “Ma!” he said, standing up. “Would you like something to eat?” She took his offered hands and kissed his cheek. In truth, eating held no interest for her, though her son’s porridge smelled good.

“Milk would be fine, dear.” Harren sat across from Canúden; he poured her a glass from the pitcher on the table. Her knee throbbed. “How’s Dylin?”

His hands fumbled with the pitcher. “I’m afraid for her, Ma. I had another encounter with the Kel yesterday morning. He said, basically, if she came to you, he would do nasty things to her again. She can’t take more abuse, not now, when she’s weak.”

Yes, that sounded like something Tutang would do. Her knee throbbed. Harren fingered her mug, but couldn’t quite bring it to her mouth. Breath rasped in her throat.

“Do you feel strong enough to go to Gallel with me today?” he said. “I can borrow the Conforines’ horse.”

Ah, the Conforines. She had not yet finished their baby blanket; at this rate, by the time she finished it, the child would be out of diapers and having babies of his own. “I don’t know. Won’t you be late if you go chasing after a carthorse?”

“Nonsense, Ma. Late for what? I’m not wanted at Gallel anymore, not by Albey, anyway.”

Now, in addition to her knee throbbing and pressure in her chest, Harren’s stomach clenched. How could she go to Gallel? And then the other thing he said hit her. “What do you mean, 'not wanted in Gallel by Albey'?”

“Well…” He fidgeted with his mug and kept his eyes on his fingers. “All of a sudden, a week later, the brats’ mamas are pushing for my dismissal. I think this whole business with refusing the treasury… I think Tutang is trying to push me in a different direction. Now unemployed, I’ll be looking for a new position.”

Harren attempted a smile. “Let’s stay here and enjoy the day. I think I’d like to sleep for a while.”
“Dylin wants you to be her jen attendant. Won’t you come with me to Gallel so she can nurse you? There are plenty of warm beds for you to sleep in. And with you there as her attendant, I would have an excuse for staying around. Plus, a san’s attendant would get paid for her work.”

Canúden couldn’t do without his books. Harren pushed the mug away from her; if she drank any of the milk, her stomach would protest. “Not today. Could she send some medicine home with you tonight?”

“She may need to diagnose your symptoms.”

“You know what they are. I can’t go there.”

Lines of concern crossed his face. “Ma! You really feeling that horrible?”

She couldn’t go to Gallel. Harren felt woozy. When she didn’t respond, Canúden said, “I’ll get what I can for you. Go back to bed. Can I make you some broth?” He rose and helped her to her room.

 “Heat up a little juice and honey, if you would, dear.”

“I wish you could eat more. You look so thin.” Canúden tucked the quilt around her when she lay down.

“If I ate more, it would come back up and make a mess for you.”

He kissed her forehead. What a son she had, so successful, so intelligent, so comely in every way, so unlike his father. “I love you, Canúden.” She took his strong hand but could hardly hold it in her weakness. “You are good. You are my son.”

He didn’t need a father.

“I love you, Ma.” His brow creased, he squeezed her hand, and returned to the kitchen to prepare the juice and honey. When he placed the mixture on the nightstand near her head, she took it gratefully, its warmth filling her with some energy. Still, she couldn’t go to Gallel. Canúden left her, with regret she knew, and she soon fell into a deep sleep of troubled dreams.