“He’s told me so much about you,” Amurra gushed. “Honored to have you in our house!”
“Honored to be here,” Kreya said. “Actually, I didn’t come alone. I have some other people with me who will be very happy to meet you. And to see you, Stran.”
Amurra clapped her hands together. “Zera and Marso?”
“Fantastic!” Stran roared. “It’s been my greatest regret that so many years have passed. I meant to visit everyone, but life... We talked about it, right, Amurra? But somehow the timing was never right. Life got busy.”
“He truly thought of you often,” Amurra said.
“Are they out there?” Stran asked, poking his head outside.
Kreya laid a hand on Stran’s arm. “Yes, but Marso isn’t well. We were hoping—”
Whooping, he barreled out the door. “Marso! Zera!” She tried not to wince. So much for breaking the news gently.
Guess he’ll see for himself.
Amurra smiled fondly as she watched her husband race up the path. “He often says he became the man he is because of the adventures he had with you. I owe you thanks for that, because I love the man he is.”
“You’re, uh, welcome,” Kreya said. Amurra was the first person who’d thanked her for anything in a while. It felt strange. After the war ended, she’d been showered with thanks, gifts, and gold. Every city had thrown parades and banquets. She would have traded it all for a few seconds more with Jentt. Now she had her Jentt, and she didn’t miss the fuss. “We are here to impose on your hospitality. Our friend Marso is not himself, and we need a quiet place where he can recover.”
“Of course!” Amurra said. “I can’t promise quiet with the kids, but Stran’s old companions are and will always be family.”
“Thank you.”
But she wasn’t sure if that offer would stand after Stran met up with Jentt. Up on the path, Kreya saw Stran approach his old companions, and she wished she’d gotten the chance to break the news about the one who should have been dead. She saw Stran hesitate for a moment, and her breath caught—then Stran wrapped Jentt in the same kind of sweep-you-off-your-feet hug that he’d just gifted Kreya with.
From within the house came a girl’s voice: “Hey, that’s mine!” And then a boy’s voice, muffled, which Kreya couldn’t quite hear. “Two kids?” she guessed, then remembered she’d heard a baby earlier. “Three.”
“A seven-year-old, five-year-old, and thirteen months. Stran is an excellent father.”
“I’m sure he is.” Kreya didn’t doubt that. And she didn’t doubt that Stran would be willing to help nurse Marso back to health. Maybe after Marso read the bones and this was over, Stran would even help Marso settle someplace that would be better for his health than an outdoor market in Ocrae.
Scooping the bone reader into his arms, Stran carried him like a baby down the slope and into the house. “Amurra, this is Marso, Zera, and Jentt. Everyone, this is my lovely wife. Love of my life. Light of my days. Cuddle-bear to my—”
Amurra smiled her sunbeam smile at him. “Enough, you. Get that poor man onto the couch.” She gave him a gentle shove through the hallway. They all followed as the room widened into a light and airy living space.
Except for the layout of the house, it looked nothing like the place Kreya remembered. All the floors had been sanded and stained honey blond, seats and benches piled high with pillows filled the room, and the walls were decorated with tapestries that mirrored the embroidery on Amurra’s blouse. It looked, in short, like a home, and Kreya had to push down a sudden spurt of jealousy.
If Jentt hadn’t died, they might have had a place like this.
But you have him back now,Kreya reminded herself.And our home will be wherever we are.
There was no need to feel sorry for herself anymore or jealous of anyone. She was happy for Stran, truly she was. He’d found himself a wife who clearly adored him, and vice versa. Plus he had the family he’d always wanted.
Gently, Stran laid Marso on the couch and covered him with blankets. He was gentle and practiced, as if he’d cared forthe sick many times. Even though she thought of him as a kind man, in Kreya’s memories of Stran, she kept seeing him impale skeletal soldiers, rather than nurse an old friend. Twenty-five years is truly a long time.
“Is he ill?” Amurra asked. “The kids—”
“I don’t believe it’s anything contagious, my dear,” Stran reassured her. “I suspect he did this to himself.”
Kreya suspected that too. But why? Was it the pain of the memories? If so, she could understand that.
Stran continued. “I should’ve checked in on him. Ocrae isn’t far. Just got so busy around the farm, with the kids. No excuse.”
Amurra wrapped her arms around him. She was at least two feet shorter than her mammoth husband; her arms only circled around half his waist. “You can’t be everything to everyone. Don’t beat yourself up. You had your own life to look after.”
“I should’ve made an effort. Not just with Marso, but with all of you. Jentt... Never thought I’d see you again. It’s a miracle.”
