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Andhun studied the ground, his heart throbbing with the surge of emotions that had swept over him in the space of a few minutes. Sorrow... fear... despair... relief... joy... gratefulness. He could see himself sitting with Sallie when she was lonely and singing songs to her. He saw himself helping Rochadan with those little jobs it didn't hurt him to do. He would be free to look for his sister. He looked up, his eyes shining with tears of thankfulness. "Yes, sir," he said, lifting his burned and scarred little chin. "You can count on me."
"Hurrah!" said Cynan, and he danced a little jig. Then he caught Rochadan's hand and shook it heartily. "You're a good man, such a very good man," he said. "If I had thought of it, I would have offered to take Andhun, too, you know... but since I'm already working my heart out to take care of my mother, it's a wonderful thing of you to take Andhun. I'll visit whenever I can and if I have a spare day I'll help Andhun watch over Sallie. And we'll look for your sister, Andhun, we surely will. And we'll play as long and happily as ever we want. And - " here his eyes twinkled with mischief " - we'll come here often and throw pebbles through the windows at Harsten's guests." He raised his chin in aloof dignity. "I will never come here as a guest. No really good person would ever stoop so low as to go to the Tavern when Harsten was in charge."
Andhun said nothing, but his eyes still shone, and the tears still spilled down his cheeks.... tears of happiness.
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