Redden Alt Mer didn’t say anything at first, simply nodded, then rose and walked to the cabin window to look outside. She cried a little when his back was turned, not tears, not audible sobs, but tiny hiccups and little heaves that he wouldn’t notice or that, at least, she could pretend he didn’t.
When he turned back to her, she was composed again. “He was everything a Rover is supposed to be,” her brother offered quietly. “It doesn’t help much just now, but down the road, when it matters, I think we’ll find some part of him is inside us, keeping us strong, telling us how to be as good a man as he was.”
She fell asleep then, almost before she knew it, and her sleep was deep and dreamless. When she woke, the room was dark save for a single candle by her bed, the sunlight that had shone through the cabin window earlier gone. She felt stronger this time, though the aches and pains that had beset her before were more pronounced. She managed to lever herself up on one elbow and drink from the cup of water sitting on the table next to her. The Jerle Shannara sailed in calm and steady winds, the motion of its passage barely perceptible. It was quiet aboard ship, the sounds of men’s voices and movements absent. It must be night, and most must be sleeping. Where were they? How far had they come since she had slept? She had no way of knowing as long as she lay in bed.
She forced her legs from under the covers and tried to stand, but her efforts failed, and she knocked the cup of water flying as she grasped the table for support before falling back again. The clatter echoed loudly, and moments later Big Red appeared, bare-chested and, clearly, roused from sleep.
“Some of us are trying to get our rest, Sister Rue,” he muttered, helping her back beneath the covers. “What do you think you are doing anyway? You’re a day or two away from walking around and maybe not then.”
She nodded. “I’m weaker than I thought.”
“You lost a lot of blood, if I’m any judge of wounds. You won’t replace it all right away. Nor will you be healing up overnight. So let’s try to be reasonable about what you can and can’t do for the immediate future.”
“I need a bath. I smell pretty bad.”
He grinned, seating himself on a three-legged stool. “I can help you with that. But no one was going to attempt it while you were unconscious, let me tell you. Not even Spanner Frew. They know how you feel about being touched.”
She tightened her lips. “They don’t know anything about me. They just think they do.” The words were sharp, bitter. She forced the sudden anger away. “Go back to bed. I’m sorry I woke you.”
He shrugged, his red hair glistening in the candlelight, loose and unruly as it hung about his strong face. “Well, I’m up now, so maybe I’ll stay up and talk with you awhile. The bath can wait until morning, can’t it? I don’t much want to haul a tub and water in here in the dark.”
She grinned faintly. “It can wait.” She regretted her anger; it was misdirected and inappropriate. Her brother was only trying to help. “I feel better tonight.”
“You look better. Everyone was worried.”
“How long have I been in this bed?”
“Two days.”
She was surprised. “That long? It doesn’t feel like it.” She exhaled sharply. “Where are we now? How close to where we left the others? We’ve gone back for them, haven’t we? We have to warn them about the Ilse Witch.”
He smiled. “You are better. Ready to get up and fight another battle, aren’t you?” He shook his head, then turned suddenly sober. “Listen carefully, Little Red. Things aren’t so simple. We’re not headed inland to the Druid’s shore party. We’re headed for the coast and the Wing Riders. We’re doing just what we were told to do.”
He must have seen the anger flare in her eyes. “Don’t say something you’ll live to regret. I didn’t make this choice because it was the one I favored. I made it because it was the only one that made sense. Don’t you think I want to square accounts with the witch? Don’t you think I want to lock up those Mwellrets the same way they locked us up? I don’t like leaving any of them running around loose any more than you do. I don’t for a minute like abandoning Walker and the others. But the Jerle Shannara is in tatters. We can replace the light sheaths and radian draws, repair the parse tubes, and readjust the diapson crystals to suit our needs. We can manage to sail at maybe three-quarters power and efficiency. But we’ve lost spars and damaged two of the masts. We’re all beaten up. We can’t fight a battle, especially against Black Moclips. We can’t even outrun her, if she should catch sight of us. Going inland now would be foolhardy. We wouldn’t be of much use to anyone if we got ourselves knocked out of the sky or captured a second time, would we?”
The glare had not faded from her eyes. “So we just abandon them?” she snapped back.
“We were already abandoning them when the Druid ordered us out of that bay. Walker knew the risks when he sent us away. If we’d gotten clear of the channel before Black Moclips found us, she still would have sailed on up the river to the bay. Walker understood that. He wasn’t thinking it couldn’t happen.”
She shook her head stubbornly. “We’re their lifeline! They can’t survive without us! What if anything goes wrong?”
“Don’t be so quick to discount what they can or can’t do without us. Something’s already gone wrong, only it went wrong with us. And we survived, didn’t we? Give them a little credit.”
They stared at each other in silence for a moment, eyes fierce and intense. Rue backed down first. “They’re not Rovers,” she pointed out quietly.
Her brother smiled in spite of himself. “Granted. But they have their good points anyway and a fair chance of holding their own until we can get to them. Which I fully intend to do, Little Red, if you’ll just have some faith in me.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We’re on our way to the coast to make repairs and heal wounds. If we’re to outsmart and outsail the Ilse Witch and her Mwellrets and perhaps do battle with Black Moclips, we have to be at our best. Maybe it won’t come to that, if we’re lucky, but we can’t rely on luck to see us through this mess. We should be able to map our way in and out again, just as the Druid wanted. We should be able to make contact with the Wing Riders, as well. And while the ship’s being overhauled and you’re healing, I’ll be flying back in with Hunter Predd to have a look at what’s become of our friends and to help them if I can.”
Rue Meridian smiled. “That’s more like the Big Red I know. No sitting around and waiting. But we’ll see about who’s coming back and who’s staying behind to heal.”
He shook his head at her. “I sometimes think you don’t have the sense of a gnat. Indestructible, are you? Half-dead one minute and whole the next? Off to the rescue of those unfortunates who need you so badly? Shades! It’s a wonder you’ve lived this long. Well, we’ll talk about it.”
He rose. “Enough of words for now, though. I’m off to bed and a few more hours of rest before daylight and work. Maybe you should try getting a few hours’ sleep yourself. Put the past behind you and the future ahead where they belong and spend your time in the present with the rest of us.” He waved dismissively as he turned away. “Sleep well, Little Red.”
He went out without looking back, closing the door softly behind him. She stared after him for a long time, thinking that for all his faults, there wasn’t anyone better than her brother. Whatever lay ahead, she would rather face it with him at her side than anyone else. Redden Alt Mer had the luck, they said. They were right, but he had something more than that. He had the heart. He would always find a way because he couldn’t conceive of it being any other way. It was the Rover in him. It defined who he was.