Back Dreamer's Pool
Chapters (51)
  1. Cover
  2. About Dreamer's Pool
  3. Title page
  4. Contents
  5. Dedication
  6. Character List
  7. 1 Blackthorn
  8. 2 Grim
  9. 3 Oran
  10. 4 Blackthorn
  11. 5 Grim
  12. 6 Oran
  13. 7 Blackthorn
  14. 8 Grim
  15. 9 Oran
  16. 10 Blackthorn
  17. 11 Grim
  18. 12 Oran
  19. 13 Blackthorn
  20. 14 Oran
  21. 15 Blackthorn
  22. 16 Oran
  23. 17 Blackthorn
  24. 18 Grim
  25. 19 Oran
  26. 20 Blackthorn
  27. 21 Grim
  28. 22 Oran
  29. 23 Grim
  30. 24 Blackthorn
  31. 25 Oran
  32. 26 Grim
  33. 27 Blackthorn
  34. 28 Grim
  35. 29 Oran
  36. 30 Blackthorn
  37. 31 Grim
  38. 32 Blackthorn
  39. 33 Oran
  40. 34 Grim
  41. 35 Blackthorn
  42. 36 Grim
  43. 37 Oran
  44. 38 Blackthorn
  45. 39 Oran
  46. 40 Grim
  47. 41 Blackthorn
  48. Acknowledgments
  49. About Juliet Marillier
  50. Also by Juliet Marillier
  51. Copyright page

Donagan must have made up that part himself – what prince would say such a thing? I made no comment, just stood there waiting for him to go. But he didn’t seem in a hurry to move on.

Grim came up, not rushing, stopped a couple of paces away with his gaze on Donagan, put down the sack he was carrying, didn’t say a word. He didn’t need to, since everything about him said, What do you think you’re doing here?

‘Grim,’ said Donagan in a friendly enough tone. ‘Prince Oran’s been hearing good reports of your work in the district.’ And when the two of us only gaped at him, he went on, ‘It seems you’re skilled not only in thatching, but in several other crafts.’

‘Do what I can,’ Grim mumbled, then shot a glance at me. ‘Has something happened here?’

‘Story to tell,’ I said. ‘Later.’

‘Prince Oran may well wish to make use of your skills in the future,’ Donagan said, looking at Grim. ‘And yours,’ he added hastily, glancing at me.

‘We have work already,’ I told him. ‘Plenty to keep us busy.’

‘Ah, well.’ Donagan was unruffled. A courtier, skilled at keeping things running smoothly. ‘Thank you again, and I’ll bid you good day.’

Grim managed a grunt; I gave a nod. Donagan strode off to his horse, which was tethered under the trees at the far side of the garden.

‘What was all that about?’ asked Grim as we watched the king’s man ride away.

‘Come inside and I’ll tell you. How were the flour bags?’

Grim gave me a funny look. ‘Heavy.’ He cast his glance over the garden; he sniffed like a hunting dog. ‘Folk have been here; not just him, a lot of folk. And horses. Just as well I fixed the wall around the vegetable patch. Here, a bit of this’ll be good in the brew.’ He leaned over the dry-stone wall and plucked a few sprigs of basil, a few leaves of thyme. ‘Good pile of horse dung over there. I’ll dig it into the new patch.’

‘Brew first. Dung later, if you insist.’

11 Grim

11

~GRIM~

I’ve come home with a story to tell. But Blackthorn’s got her own story and it’s bigger than mine. So instead of talking I sit down and listen.