Destiny: Child Of Sky (57 page)

Rhapsody considered, and decided that was probably wisest. Llauron was too exhausted to make it back to Gwynwood at a reasonable speed anyway, and Lord Stephen would no doubt see to his health and make him comfortable within Haguefort, his castle of rosy-brown stone.

'All right,“ she agreed, kissing his cheek. "But don't try and talk me into any more on the way. Three, and that's all. I don't want to risk getting caught in another storm, like the poor rangers you sent to help me in Sorbold. I don't want you adding to theirs on my conscience."

'Agreed," said the elderly gentleman, his eyes twinkling in the morning light.

They were in the process of restoring a stone marker listing the names of the first settlers of western Navarne when Rhapsody felt a chill come to the clearing.

Llauron had been standing behind her, watching above her as she dug around the stone, clearing the brambles from its base. When she turned she saw Khaddyr come into view behind him. Rhapsody rose, standing with the Invoker, as four men and a woman came into the clearing behind Llauron's chief advisor. She glanced quickly at Llauron. The woman was Lark, Llauron's own herbalist and one of his chief priests, with whom Rhapsody had studied.

The old man's brows drew together.

'Khaddyr. I thought you were attending to the preparations for the vernal equinox."

Khaddyr nodded as the priests closed ranks around him. “I am, Your Grace. I mean to see that it is celebrated under the leadership of a new Invoker."

Rhapsody's stomach froze like the ground beneath her boots. “What is that supposed to mean?"

'It means he is enacting an ancient ritual of passage, my dear," said Llauron calmly.

“He is challenging me under the law of Buda Kai."

Rhapsody's hand moved unconsciously to the hilt of Daystar Clarion. Buda Kai was the Filidic fight for dominance, a rite not practiced in the time since the Cymrian War. Llauron himself had not ascended by means of it, nor had his predecessor. Khaddyr himself had told her as much when he was her tutor. The victor would be recognized as the Invoker. It was a fight to the death. “Don't be ridiculous," she said to Khaddyr. “You yourself said it was a barbaric and outdated ritual that no one practiced anymore."

Khaddyr smiled, and Rhapsody shivered involuntarily. There was a cruelty in his eyes behind his cultured voice, a hard and unyielding glint.

'Then I see we are both of the same mind. You are restoring monuments to the faded glory of a dishonored people, while I am invoking an ancient rite for purposes of returning honor to a religious sect led by a crumbling bastion of the same line. How ironic. Lark will stand as my second. It appears Llauron has no alternative but you. I am sorry you have to witness this, my dear. I would have spared you if I could."

-

'Oh, no, Khaddyr, I wouldn't have it any other way,“ Rhapsody said, fury seething in her voice. "This way I can stand in for him. You'll have to fight me first."

'Excuse us for a moment, please," Llauron said to Khaddyr, who nodded. He took Rhapsody by the arm and led her twenty feet away behind a stand of birch trees.

'Rhapsody, I'm sorry this is happening now, when we were just getting to spend some time together again. I'm afraid I must tend to this. The challenge must be met."

'This is absurd,“ Rhapsody said, glaring over her shoulder at Khaddyr and his second. "Imbeciles. Well, name me your champion and I'll wipe that smug smile off his face. It will give me the opportunity to repay him for groping me when he first brought me to you."

Llauron's hands were gentle as he took her shoulders and smiled down into her face. “No, my dear, I'm not going to do that. I appreciate the offer, of course."

Rhapsody was astonished. "What do you mean? Is someone else coming?

Is Ashe nearby? Anborn?"

'No, I'm afraid not. This is a battle I will have to fight alone. Part of the office, you know."

Rhapsody's voice was gentle, but the overlay of concern was obvious. "Llauron, that's ridiculous. Your strength is in your mind, in your wisdom, not your body.

Besides, it's my job to champion just such causes as these; that's why I have the sword, remember? Please, just go tell Khaddyr that I will fight him, or Lark. I hope it's the bastard himself, I have a debt to him I am looking forward to repaying with interest."

'Rhapsody, listen to me,“ Llauron said, his voice a little more commanding. "You will not be named champion. You don't understand the intricacies of my office.

This is a battle I have to fight alone. I need you to do something for me, though."

'Name it, Llauron."

'I need you to be my witness; to act as herald when this is over. Whatever you see you must report accurately. The fate of the Filidic order depends on it. As a Namer, you guarantee the truth will be told.“ "Of course, but—"

'And I want you to swear a holy oath on your sword that you will not intervene here; that, no matter what happens, you remain out of the fight.“ "Are you out of your mind?“ Rhapsody snapped before she had time to temper her words or her anger. "Llauron, this is what I've trained for, what you wanted me to do. This whole idea is insane; you're exhausted and ill. Please, either walk away from this, or let me handle it."

'Rhapsody, time grows short. Listen to me; either you will forswear intervention, and act as my witness, or I shall be forced to ban you from the fight. My lore here is stronger than yours, my dear. I can exile you to outside this forest, and then you condemn me to face this alone, without a herald, without a friend. I hardly think that is something you would abandon me to, is it, Rhapsody? Would you, a Namer, a Lirin Singer, deny me a friend in the face of death?"

Rhapsody began to tremble. “No."

'I thought not.“ Llauron's face and voice grew gentle again. "I appreciate your selfless intentions, my dear. But this is an act that is foreordained; you can't be part of it. You would dishonor everything I hold holy if you break your oath and participate in any way. Do you understand?"

She lowered her eyes as they filled with tears. “Yes."

'Good, good. All right then; we will accept the challenge."

Rhapsody tried one last time. “At least tarry a little while," she said, her voice coming out in a choked whisper. “Please, Llauron; demand a delay. Do this when you are fresh and rested, with your powers at their height."

Llauron laughed. He reached out a wrinkled hand and caressed her soft cheek.

“You are so lovely, my dear," he said as the tears began to fall.

'Please; please, Llauron." The pain in her eyes coupled with the tears made Llauron think of looking up into the forest canopy during a rainshower. He smiled at her again.

'My son is a lucky man," he said gently. His tone had the ring of sincerity to it.

Her face twisted in agony. “I'm not seeing your son anymore, Llauron," she said sadly. “I've done as you asked; we've parted company."

Llauron looked surprised. “What a shame," he said, as if to himself. “And after I specifically gave him my blessing. A shame; I am sorry, my dear."

Rhapsody felt her stomach turn to ice. Llauron's words, however well in-tentioned, had caused a new wound in her soul. If he had removed his objections, then it meant that Ashe himself had been the one to decide her unworthy. She choked back the bile that rose to her throat, and drew her sword.

'Please change your mind,“ she asked again. "I fear I am about to witness your death, and I have sworn to prevent that with my life. I will be responsible."

'I absolve you of any duty,“ Llauron said solemnly. "I ask only one thing of you, Rhapsody.“ She nodded. "If I should die here, I would like you to immediately commit my body to the stars and the fire. Make me a pyre here; it serves no purpose to return me to the Tree. Use Daystar Clarion to free my soul with a strike of fire from the stars. Oh, and if you would favor me with the Song of Passage, I will smile on you from wherever I go." He ran his hand down the lock of golden hair that had fallen free of the black ribbon.

Rhapsody dissolved into tears. “Please don't do this."

'Rhapsody, that's enough; now buck up, lass.“ Llauron shifted his weight on the white oaken staff, and the golden oak leaf flashed in the sun. "Kneel and present your weapon."

She swallowed her tears, dread rising with her gorge, and dropped to one knee, her sword point-down before her.

'Now, I want you to swear on all that you hold holy, on your life, and on your sword, that you will abide by my order not to intervene," he said.

His eyes glittered faintly in the light that passed overhead as the wind brushed aside the tallest of the tree branches. He waited for her answer.

After a moment she spoke. “I swear it."

A victorious smile crept over his face, but Rhapsody, eyes on the earth below her, did not see it. “Good, good. And you will light the pyre with the sword?"

She lifted her eyes. “You don't have any expectation of winning, do you, Llauron?"

The sadness in her voice made his eyes sting.

'On the contrary, my dear,“ he said in his most reassuring tone, "it is the only thing I expect to do."

In the distance Ashe watched, his mouth growing drier, his hands shaking in fury.

It was all he could do to refrain from rushing in, sword swinging, and dispatching the whole lot of them. He could feel the pain his wife experienced even this far away, and it made him want to vomit. He reached deep within himself to where he could feel that part of his soul which was bound to hers, and he tried with all his focus to reassure her, but he knew he did not reach her.

The dragon in his blood muttered; it had been doing so since he had arrived. Its words whispered in his brain, making the place behind his eyes burn with a smoldering rage. She hurts, it whispered angrily. Our treasure is in pain; it cries.

When his anger ignited he might not be able to contain it.

Ashe willed himself to stop thinking about it, but he couldn't. Then, as his wrath was beginning to catch fire, he felt a new dread, a new panic, rumble through him.

He ran to the edge of the forest clearing, and horror choked him.

In the distance he could see a column of white smoke ascending from the top of the forest canopy toward an irate sky, a sky that churned, black with protest.

The Tree was under siege.

Now his seething anger combusted into an inferno of hideous rage; he knew unquestionably that this diversion was meant to draw him, to prevent him from interceding for Llauron. The stupidity of the assumption only served to fan the flames of his fury; it didn't matter that the attempt was ill conceived and foolish.

Knowing that if he gave vent to the vocal aspects of his frenzy the gathering in the forest glade would instantly be aware of him, he swallowed his roar, but the earth heard it anyway, and transmitted it, by means of a violent tremor, through the woods. He knew Rhapsody could feel it, and in the back of his mind he regretted adding in any way to her distress.

He ran, slashing through the underbrush, like an avalanche, like the wind, pulling power from the air and earth around him, gathering it to him, growing stronger, ran with the speed of a hurricane-force gale but the unrelenting power of a tidal wave.

When he crashed on the shore of the diversion conflict, there would be Perdition to pay. Khaddyr's co-conspirators would never receive whatever reward he had promised for their assistance.

He gave Rhapsody a moment to compose herself, and then they returned to the clearing where Khaddyr waited. She eyed him with an ill-disguised contempt, but had come to the understanding that, no matter what happened, she would have to present a stoic face.

'All right, Khaddyr, Rhapsody has agreed to stay out of it."

'I'm pleased to hear that. I have no quarrel with you, Rhapsody."

'Not today," she answered, her voice calm but seething with dangerous undertones.

“Our day will come."

'Do you wish to take this time to say your preparation rites?“ Khaddyr asked Llauron. "I performed mine while you kept me waiting."

'Yes,“ Llauron answered without a trace of enmity. "If you will excuse me, I will return presently."

As the elderly cleric walked away from the clearing, Khaddyr's eyes looked Rhapsody up and down; then, satisfied her wrath was under control, he came to her. As he approached he saw her avert her eyes; the gesture charmed him. It was a sign of deference, and after this day, he expected he would see it from her on a regular basis.

The flash of the blade was the only warning he had to stop; the point of her sword pierced the ground within a hairsbreadth of his toes. Khaddyr stood in shock; waves of nauseating cold vibrated through him, beginning at the back of his neck, and radiating through the rest of him. As he waited for his body to recover he realized he had not seen even the slightest motion that put it there.

Rhapsody's eyes remained focused at the ground. “I have nothing to say to you."

Khaddyr swallowed. He struggled to maintain a calm voice; it would not do to have a future subordinate hear him choke.

Such hostility,“ he said, trying for a mild, reprimanding tone. "Why are you so rancorous, my dear? This quarrel has nothing to do with you; it is an ancient rite of passage. Surely Llauron must have explained that to you. It really is not even a sign of enmity between Llauron and me. It is how our sect selects new leadership, new blood."

'How ironic,“ she replied, still looking at the ground. "What rite would you perform if you were trying to prove your loyalty to him, Khaddyr—a ceremonial burning of his house while he slept?"

The look in Khaddyr's eyes turned cold. “That's an insulting comparison."

Finally Rhapsody's eyes lifted to meet his, and Khaddyr took an involuntary step backward. They were burning, green like the new shoots of spring but with a fire that was hot and white.

'That was complimentary, compared to what I would really like to say to you, but I refuse to dishonor Llauron any further than you already have. And you are a fine one to complain of insult. You belittle my intelligence with your smarmy lies about rites of passage. Do you think I don't know what the standard rites of passage are?