Read Nerilka's Story for Free Online

broad roadway to have an uninterrupted view, and saw guards pacing the arbitrary boundaries.
    “Are there many wayfarers halted there?”
    Sim nodded, his eyes frightened. “Harper and healer, all only trying to get back to their Halls. And a few of the holdless. We always have them coming along. But there’ll be sick ones, soon. Wanting help from the Healer Hall. What’ll they do? They got a right to healing.”
    So they did. Even my mother was—had been—generous to the holdless.
    “Do the guards allow anyone into the valley?”
    Sim nodded. “But not back out again.”
    “Who’s the guard leader?”
    “Theng, far as I know.”
    Even Theng could be got round if it was done the right way. He enjoyed a bottle of wine, and while he was drinking he could pretend not to see past the end of the flask. Harper and healer refused access to their Halls? My father was foolish as well as frightened. And hypocritical when he, himself, returning from a disease-ridden Hold, placed his own people at jeopardy by his very presence. Well, that didn’t mean that I had to be foolish, too. I knew my duty to the Halls—hadn’t my father drilled it into me? And I might need their charity before the end of these terrible days. I would speak to Felim, and to Theng.
    As I walked back up to the Hold, I saw a figure in a first story window. My father? Yes, that was his window, and he was watching Sim and me. Sim he wouldn’t distinguish from any other drudge wearing Hold livery, but just how keen was his long sight? And what would it matter if he identified me? It would probably be the first time he had. I strode on, proud and careless. But I did take the side entrance into the kitchens. I had to speak to Felim, didn’t I?
    “What am I to do now, Lady Nerilka?” the cook began before I could ask him to save the broken meats for the interned men. “She came down with orders for all kinds of foods that I know Lady Pendra would not condone—” And then he burst into tears again, blotting his eyes and face with the rag he always had hanging out of his apron waist. “She was stern, Lady Pendra, but she was fair. A man knew he had only to keep to her standards and there’d be no complaint.”
    “What did Anella want?”
    “She said she was to order Hold matters now. And I was to prepare broth for her children, whose stomachs are delicate; and there are to be confections with every meal, for her parents desire sweets; and roasts midday and evening. Lady Nerilka, you know that isn’t possible.” Tears streamed down his cheeks again as he shrugged. “Must I take orders from her now?”
    “I’ll find out, Felim. Proceed with the plans we made this morning. Not even for Anella can we alter an established routine in one day.”
    Then I asked him to save what he could from the evening meal, for delivery to Theng.
    “I took the liberty of sending the broken meats last night, Lady Nerilka. As your lady mother would have done. Oh, oh, she was fair, she was fair. . . .” He buried his face once more in his napkin.
    Felim was fair, too, I thought, trying to keep my mind off my mother. Thinking of Anella helped. That little lay-aback, coming in here and thinking she could just take over a Hold the size of Fort and run it as if it were exactly like the backhills midden from which she’d come! The thought of the chaos that would shortly result at such inexpert hands gave me a perverse delight. Little did Anella know of real management, and if she wished to keep my father content, she’d better learn. Whatever had made her think that just because Lady Pendra was dead, she was to step into her shoes, just as she had taken her bed partner? Unless . . .
    Once again I encountered a distressed Campen in the front hall. My brother’s face was suffused with blood and his features contorted with dismay. Doral, Mostar, and Theskin, who were deep in low conversation with him, wore the same expression.
    “Isn’t there anything we can
do
?”