“Tillamon is taking care of all that. She has gone back to our rooms and will repack as much as she can into a couple of cargo boxes and then have them carried down to the boat.”
“Why is everything taking so long? I will not know a moment’s peace until we get him to a dragon that can help him.”
“He looks much better to me already. The ship is doing all he can.”
“I know.” She set her hand to the wooden deck and hoped Tarman could sense her gratitude and would not take her words amiss. “But I can feel what he is doing and it frightens me. Reyn, he reminds our baby to breathe. He listens to his heart beating.” She reached over and set her hand on her baby’s chest, as if to be certain for herself.
Reyn was silent, and then asked the question that he must. “And if Tarman did not remind him?”
“I think he would just stop,” Malta said.
Reyn slid across the deck to gather her into his arms. “It won’t be long now,” he told her and prayed he was not lying. “As soon as we are loaded, we’ll depart. Captain Leftrin promised us this.”
He sat still, listening to the busy sounds of freight coming aboard the ship. There was a bed in the tiny boxlike cabin that Leftrin had provided for him, and part of him longed to be there. But the baby needed to stay here on the foredeck where Tarman’s wizardwood was thickest in order to remain in contact with the liveship. Malta, he reminded himself, had been here all night. “Would you like to go to the cabin and sleep for a bit? I’ll stay here with our son.”
She shook her head. “Maybe once we are out on the water and I know we are on our way, maybe then I can relax. But not yet.” Then she smiled. “Our son. How strange and wonderful it sounds to say it aloud. But he needs a name of his own, Reyn.” She looked down at the sleeping infant. “Something strong. A tough name to carry him through.”
“Ephron,” Reyn suggested promptly.
Malta’s eyes widened. “Name him after my grandfather?”
“I always heard good things about him. And for a second name?”
“Bendir,” she suggested.
“My brother’s name? My elder brother, who has spent his entire life bossing me around, sitting on me when we were children, even mocking me for falling in love with you!”
“I like Bendir,” she admitted, grinning, and for the sake of that smile, so unexpected on her weary face, he nodded. “Ephron Bendir Khuprus. A large name for a small boy.”
“He will be Phron until he grows into it. It was what my father was called as a boy.”
“Phron Khuprus, then,” Reyn said and touched the sleeping child’s pate. “You have a big name to live up to, little one.”
Malta covered her husband’s hand with her own and smiled at her son’s small face. Then she gave a brief, choked laugh.
“What’s funny?” Reyn demanded.
“I was remembering Selden when he was a baby. He was the only one in the family younger than me, so he was the only baby I really knew.”
“Did you love him from the moment you saw him?”
Her smile grew wider as she shook her head. “No. Not at all. My mother was horrified the day I carried him into the kitchen and showed her that he would fit exactly in a baking dish.”
“NO!”
“Yes. I did it. At least, so I’ve been told repeatedly. I don’t remember it myself. I do remember when Wintrow was sent off to be a priest. Because I asked if Selden couldn’t go with him.”
Reyn shook his head. “A bit jealous, were you?”
“More than a bit,” Malta admitted. Her smile faded a little. “And now I would give anything to know where my little brother is. Or to at least know that he is safe.”
Reyn put his arm around her and pulled her closer. He kissed her forehead. “Selden is tough. He’s been through a lot. He was just a little boy when we watched Tintaglia hatch. Any other child would have been terrified and weeping at our dilemma. Selden just kept on trying to work out how we could get out of it. And now he’s a man. He can take care of himself, dear. I have a lot of faith in Selden.”
Lantern light woke him. Selden half opened his eyes. They were gummy, and the figure before him was a blur. He pulled one hand from under the coarse blanket to rub at his eyes. They stung. He coughed abruptly, and then coughed more. He leaned as far from his bedding as he could before spitting out the mouthful of phlegm. The person watching him made a disgusted sound.
Selden spoke hoarsely. “You don’t like what you see, go away. Or treat me decently so I have a chance to get better.”
