Pullen
Leachim talks to his absent and much-missed wife …
On the journey to Pullen, Leachim invariably rode alongside Irenya, engaging her in conversation and watching her responses. She had changed since the adventure in the desert. Was it the griffin? Or her treatment at the hands of Kidu and the Sildahni women who had so liked her? He couldn’t make up his mind about the whats, the wherefores, and whenevers; he knew something had changed. And because he couldn’t find an answer, and since Irenya had become pleasantly adept at deflecting his more direct questions, he increasingly nattered to the Aeryl he carried in his head.
That night, Leachim silently thanked Meia for a clean, comfortable bed in a prosperous inn. He lay with his hands behind his head, staring into a shadowy ceiling.
