The Seedbearing Prince: Part I Read Online Free

you go.”
    “Have you seen my sister?” Dayn finally
managed.
    “No,” Joam said, frowning. “We passed your
mother on the road. Another fine batch of her paintings for
Evensong, it looks like. Maybe she can favor me with a portrait
tonight. For my new standing as champion.”
    “Quiet, boy,” Milchamah said. “I didn't come
all this way to watch your gums flap in the breeze. Let the boy
spit out why he’s so worked up.” Only a few years older than Laman,
fine wrinkles rested lightly on Milchamah’s sun-browned face, from
years of good farming and rough humor. Gray strands threaded
through his long braids, just visible under his wide straw hat. He
spoke around a sweet tree twig which Dayn never saw him without.
“Now what’s so important to break your neck over the morning of
Evensong?”
     
    Dayn pointed, but quickly let his hand drop
when he saw how badly it still shook. Peace, but I've never been
so afraid in my life! Milchamah and Joam both looked curiously
at the well.
    “A man was in there. The water sucked him
away, there was this awful smell, and...” Dayn trailed off.
    “Spill surge.” The old farmer said after a
moment. “The worst ones could make a well overflow for weeks. But
if you say someone drowned, I better take a look.” Milchamah made
straight for the well.
    “I didn’t say he drowned,” Dayn said faintly.
Joam and Milchamah shared a long look that made his face burn.
    “Strange things dance around skytears,” Joam
offered. Dayn waited for some joke at his expense, but Joam just
chattered on as they strode over. “You won’t believe what happened
at Urlan's farm this morning―”
    “Boy, if I want your opinion I'll snap my
fingers. Skytears,” Milchamah growled in disgust. “And I already
warned you to keep that other matter quiet.” His scowl widened to
include Dayn. “The less people who know, the later our guests find out.”
    “Sorry, father,” Joam said with a wounded
look.
    “Spill surge could cough up some
Misthavener's lost cuddlebear, maybe even some heartrock from the
deepest water.” Milchamah reached the well and snorted. Dayn sidled
up to it anxiously. The water lay still.
    Gone. I know I didn’t imagine it. He or it,
whatever it was, felt real.
    “What could give Shard a fever?” Dayn
asked.
    Instead of answering, Milchamah pitched
forward, suddenly shoulder deep in the water. Dayn and Joam both
jumped back with a yelp. The rangy farmer straightened, his sleeve
soaked, and Laman's staff in his hand.
    “See, all kinds of things get lost,”
Milchamah said, his face tight. Joam’s jaw hung open at sight of
the carved silverpine.
    Dayn took the staff, mortified. Peace!
Father just gave it to me this morning! I need to dry it before the
grain warps!
    “I know what I saw,” Dayn mumbled as he
toweled the staff off with his shirt.
    “No one’s missing, boy. Don't you think word
would spread if someone fell down another well? And how would they
end up here?”
    “It's easy for our eyes to play tricks at
dawn,” Joam suggested, after a wary look at Milchamah. Joam stood a
foot taller than either of them but acted meek as a day-old kitten
around his father. “And you know how Tela wanders when she catches
a notion,” he added. He was a good friend, saving face for
Dayn.
    “She’s not the only one catching notions,”
Milchamah observed.
    Dayn dropped his eyes. He could offer no
ready answers.
    Milchamah seemed to argue with himself for a
moment as he frowned at the waterlogged staff in Dayn's hands.
“Son, are you sure about this?” he asked.
    Joam nodded eagerly. “Sure as the mist
rises.”
    Milchamah spat around his sweet tree twig.
“What I'm seeing now doesn't help much.”
    Dayn looked uncertainly between the two. The
mischievous light in Joam's brown eyes made him nervous. “Sure
about what?” he asked.
    “You should know by now.” The rangy farmer
studied him openly. Sweat began to form on Dayn’s back. “I'm here
about