Saranna heard a step in the doorway, and turned to see a man, younger than she had expected, standing just inside the room.

‘Good evening.’

She smiled at him. ‘Good evening.’

After  a  long  pause,  the young man came further into the  room,  and  looked  as  if  he  was about to speak again.   Instead he moved suddenly away to the window, where he stood with his back to Saranna. The silence remained unbroken until Saranna asked,

‘Are you Master Drenn?’

He turned to face her. ‘Yes, I am.   I am sorry, I should have given you my name.’

He smiled rather heavily and moved closer to her.  She saw that his broad, pleasant face bore a worried look. ‘Does your hand cause you much pain?’

‘I am greatly recovered – Essk has taken good care of me.’

He sat down in the chair beside the bed, and smiled again. ‘She is wonderful, is she not? She knows everything about herbs and potions. Thank the Lady you are not badly hurt.   When the men carried you here, all soaked in mud and pale as starlight – I thought at first you were dead.’

Saranna Portrait


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