9
He Was Sent
Thomas turned to him, anger sparking at the memory of the night before, of the white-hot feel of the king’s mind slamming into his. And at the fact that Nectan had deliberately not told him of the presence of his father. “This is not a good time. My lord king,” he added, his words clipped.
Nectan crossed his arms on his chest. “The Healer says he can manage. ’Twill no take long.”
“Thomas. It’s all right. I’ll talk to your king.” Matthew stood. His face was pale, but he looked steady. “He’s right, at any rate. We need to talk.”
Nectan looked at Thomas. “My words are for him alone, wilding.”
Matthew spoke before Thomas could protest. “My son will stay.”
Nectan frowned. “Are ye sure ye would have him hear the words we speak?”
Matthew’s face was hard. “I have nothing to h
