..."
He bent his head over the embroideries, and when he looked up his face
was flushed. "I believe--by the chains of Sharra, I believe you have it,
Race! It may take years to work out the glyphs, but I'll do it, or die
trying!" His scarred and hideous face looked almost handsome in
exultation, and I grinned at him.
"If Juli leaves enough of you, once she finds out how you maneuvered
her. Look, Rindy's fallen asleep on the grass there. Poor kid, we'd
better get her down to her mother."
"Right." Rakhal thrust the precious embroidery into his shirtcloak, then
cradled his sleeping daughter in his arms. I watched him with a curious
emotion I could not identify. It seemed to pinpoint some great change,
either in Rakhal or myself. It's not difficult to visualize one's sister
with children, but there was something, some strange incongruity in the
sight of Rakhal carrying the little girl, carefully tucking her up in a
fold of his cloak to keep the sharp breeze off her face.
Miellyn was limping in her thin sandals, and she shivered.
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