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Page 412
you know. Not now, perhaps not even soon, but it will breed more songs."
Less rebellious than she had been for nearly a year, Rhiannon accepted that. She did not strain to make more music and only used her harp for her customary practice. She was not ill-humored, but she was restless. It was not only that she wished to go to Simon so that she could think of him as happy rather than hurt and wondering, nor that she wanted to know what he was doing so that her anxiety would pinch and prick her less. Those just added to her general sense that she must be up and doing somethinganything.
Needless to say, Llewelyn's command was greeted with cries of enthusiasm. Rhiannon did cast one single suspicious glance at her mother as she went to pack, but then she told herself severely that she did not care whether Kicva and Llewelyn had planned this to manage her. She wanted to go. She would not cut off her nose to spite her face. Her laughter trilled like bird song when she thought of "Simon's words," and Math came and rubbed against her legs. Then to her blank amazement he went and sat beside the padded basket in which he traveled.
Rhiannon paused in her packing, sat back on her heels, and stared at him. "I do not think you should go," she said. "We will be in a keep, and you hate that. Also, we may have to move several times."
There were occasions when Rhiannon almost expected to get an answer from Math. She never didexcept in the way things worked out. All he did was stare back at her with his clear, pale eyes, the pupils down to slits. Rhiannon thought briefly of trying to imprison him when they left. Unlike dogs, cats hunted by eye and could not follow a trail. Then she shrugged. If Math wanted to go, why should he not? She would be glad to have him when the men moved on while she had to wait to know where they would stop before she could follow.

 
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