Kirith Kirin (The City Behind the Stars) (39 page)

The messenger presented me and I entered. They were all there, seated on cushions in the tent’s outer chamber. They watched as if I were a stranger.

Kirith Kirin signaled the messenger to leave. Footsteps faded outside, while the Jhinuuserret looked at each other.

At last I said, “Gnemorra has fallen and Julassa Kyminax is dead. Please speak to me. I’m frightened, too.”

Karsten made a sound like a cat mother calling her young, leaping from her cushion to gather me close. I hugged her body tight, glad of her warmth, glad of her voice in my ear. She wore a bandage on one hand. “Then I wasn’t wrong. It was you.”

The others were watching, and I gave the answer to them all. “Yes, it was me. Yes, Kirith Kirin, it was me.”

He was watching me as if his heart were breaking. He could not speak, but gestured for me to come close, and when I did he embraced me almost as wildly as Karsten. When he could speak again he lifted his glass, as did the others. “You’ve finally come, after all this waiting.” His eyes were blurred with tears, and his voice full of pent-up joy, so much one thought he would burst from the release. “The Witch has come to the Wood.”

“Hail,” murmured Imral, and Mordwen said, “Hail, Thaanarc.” Pelathayn and Karsten tilted glasses toward me.

“What is Thaanarc?” I asked.

“A title in my Court,” Kirith Kirin said. “Last held by Kentha Nurysem. It means ’Witch of the Wood’.”

“We have been waiting for you,” Imral said calmly. “Only Kirith Kirin suspected you were already here.”

They thought I was speechless with joy or some other such foolishness. I said, “I broke a promise when I faced Julassa yesterday. I’m to be sent away.”

“What?” Kirith Kirin asked. “Who told you that?”

“The lake women,” I answered. “At Illyn Water.”

“Illyn!” Karsten paled at the name, leaning close to Imral, who put his arm around her.

“Broke an oath?” Mordwen said. “You? To whom?”

“To the Diamysaar. I’ve traveled to Illyn shore to learn from them nearly every day since I first came to the Woodland.” I was staring into my cup, avoiding eyes. “I was to serve the magician Yron when he comes to Arthen, the lake women were teaching me. I’d sworn to them I wouldn’t use what they taught me out of their presence, but yesterday when they told me Julassa Kyminax was riding I couldn’t bear the thought of what would follow. So I disobeyed them.”

“The Diamysaar.” Mordwen was completely dumbfounded. “Of course. Who else could teach the magic?” Turning to Kirith Kirin. “You knew about this, didn’t you?”

“By accident,” Kirith Kirin said. “Or else by their contrivance. I saw Jessex with them on Vithilonyi.”

“In Hyvurgren Field,” Imral said, his expression sobering. “I should have guessed. That was why you summoned the boy to Sister Mountain.”

“But I don’t understand,” Karsten said, “Jessex failed that test.”

“Because the Sisters interceded,” I answered. “The stone circle is their device. They spoke to the stones and the stones did not change when I crossed the circle.”

“Tell me about this oath again,” Kirith Kirin said, and I did. Finishing with the exact words as I remembered them. “I was told to meet them in Jiiviisn Field. I was told to bring all the Jhinuuserret with me. The Sisters will meet us at noon to take me away.”

No one said a word. They looked at each other in awe and fear.

“You’re sure that’s what they said?” Kirith Kirin asked.

“Yes. Commyna made her instructions very plain.”

“Commyna,” Imral said, looking suddenly very far away. “I haven’t heard that name in a long time. Can you name the other Sisters, Jessex?”

“Vella and Vissyn.”

“If any more proof were needed, there you have it,” Karsten said.

When I looked puzzled, Kirith Kirin explained to me quietly, “The names of the Diamysaar are known only to us. Only the Sisters bestow the Second Name. Only those who know the names of the Sisters have received the name from God.” He and Karsten were watching each other.

In the wake of so much information, only Pelathayn maintained a practical frame of mind. “Jiiviisn is a half-days ride from the border of Nevyssan,” he said, “even on royal horses. We had better get to sleep if we’re to meet them on time.”

“Yes,” Kirith Kirin whispered. “We’ll have some preparations to make here if we’re to ride out tomorrow.”

He sounded so completely bewildered. But he finished the business at hand patiently, sending for a clerk to take down letters, assigning the arrangements for our trip to Karsten, directing Pelathayn to pick the fastest road to Jiiviisn. Once during these dispositions I started to rise and leave him to his work, but he turned to me quickly, laying hold of my arm and saying softly, “Please stay.” So I sat down again.

He went on with his business, dictating orders to go out tomorrow by courier to the patrols along Arthen’s southern border, sending other orders to the Ren Vael who was in charge of the soldiers arranged along Angoroe, and still others to Lady Unril, who had been left with command of the Gnemorra garrison. I lay quietly sharing his cushion, glad to be so close.

The letters were signed and sealed, Imral checking that the clerk had written correctly, the packets assigned to riders who could be trusted. Imral sent the clerk away, and finally only he and Karsten remained, Mordwen having long since returned to his own tent, Pelathayn gone to the tent of his current mistress. Imral ordered brandy brought in and dimmed the lamps till shadows fell softly and outlines blurred. He poured the glimmering liquid into glasses. “Good Drii brandy from my own stock. You’ll never have better.”

Karsten raised her glass. “I drink to the Witch of the Wood.”

Imral raised his glass as well. “Whatever tomorrow brings, you’re Thaanarc tonight.”

Kirith Kirin solemnly touched his glass to mine. When he had sipped, he said, “We would have asked for none better.”

“Nor could we have had a better, from what I saw at Gnemorra,” Karsten said.

“Were you close by?”

Her laugh was deep and vibrant. “Imral and I were there together, you nearly trampled us when you followed the witch into the encampment. Not that I’m complaining.”

Even Kirith Kirin found her irony funny. “Karsten isn’t one to look a gift magician in the mouth.”

“Neither am I,” Imral said, “especially not then.”

“Were you surprised to beat her?” Kirith Kirin asked.

I met his eyes for an instant and could not watch him any longer. “I don’t know if I was. I don’t really know what I felt. If I had known —”

“Go on,” he said softly.

I looked at him. “I knew I was breaking my oath when I rode out of Arthen. But I didn’t know then how it would feel for the Sisters to send me away.”

“Would you do it again?” Imral asked.

I studied the pool of amber in my hand. “Yes. I told them so.” I looked him in the eye. “I knew the oath was an oath, Prince Imral, I knew I would be punished. But I saw no other choice. You’re my friends. You’re more than my friends. I couldn’t leave you to face Julassa Kyminax with no one to help you.”

The Venladrii looked as though this answer amused him, a smile of whimsy on his face. “That’s from Kentha’s prophecy,” he said. “In the last hour, with the Witch riding, when it is the Sisters’ word against the choice.”

“I remember,” Karsten said, “word for word.”

“I have what she said by heart, too,” Imral said, sadly. “I’ve thought about it often enough. Looking for some sign of your coming, Jessex — your true coming, I mean, your riding across the plain on wind and storm, as she told us. I always wondered why Kentha mentioned the Sisters or spoke of this as a choice. ’Against the advice of every mouth.’ Now I know.”

“You’d never know I’d be here such a short time.”

Kirith Kirin set down his glass, nearly spilling what was left in it. “Don’t give up yet. Maybe they have something else in mind.” He was quiet, he said nothing else, so I had no idea what he meant. He buried his head against me as Axfel did when he wanted me to know he loved me. I cradled him like that until the worst of the moment passed.

When I looked up again, Karsten was in the doorway, Imral helping fasten the cloak across her shoulders. She signaled me to be silent, and Imral looked away. They were both leaving, having dimmed the lamps further. Outside, Imral gave the bodyguard orders not to allow anyone to disturb Kirith Kirin, not even the householders.

I looked down at the Prince in wonder. He was still lost in his own sadness, not yet realizing the gift his friends had given us. I bent to kiss his brow and he sighed, pulling me close with the arm that encircled me.

4

I woke up before dawn. We had lain all night on the cushions, one of Kirith Kirin’s cloaks spread over us both. At first I didn’t know where I was until I felt the weight of his arm across me. His warm breath collected at the base of my neck.

In sleep, his face was childlike, the lips full to flowering, the heavy lashes curved outward extravagantly, the brow smooth. Before I rose from our warm nest I kissed him on the lips. He stirred but did not emerge from sleep. I moved carefully from under his arm and the cloak, my hands on his smooth strong flesh, the hairs of his arm like fine black silk.

It was a wonder to have lain so close to him, to have touched him. I kissed him again before I left, lightly, the merest brush of lips on his black hair. Creeping out of the dark tent, I passed the guard and the sentries who saw me and waved me on. In main camp the first cook-fires were burning. I hurried to the shrine tent where the kaa was throwing light against the scrub pine and twisted faris. Despite the day that was coming, I was happy.

5

We set out for Jiiviisn Field as soon as Morning Ceremony was over. Riding hard over the rough trails out of Nevyssan, we reached the north road before the sun was clear of the horizon.

Jiiviisn, like Hyvurgren where I first saw the Diamysaar, is one of the Elder Fields, an place where a shrine has been maintained since the first days. This was, as I gathered from snatches of conversation on the ride, one of the few places where the Sisters were ever seen. It was in Jiiviisn Field that the Nivra Kiril of Curaeth became Kiril Karsten, when the Sisters brought her the name from God. She told me this when we stopped to rest our horses, her eyes clouded with the memory. “I never dreamed I would dread a meeting with them.”

“I’d as soon not see them at all in these circumstances.” Mordwen was watching me. “For the life of me I don’t see what else you could have done.”

I was silent. We were ready to ride again. The morning passed gloomily, and we reached the field when the sun was high. One cannot say enough about the beauty of the country thereabouts, the wild green rolling hills, the shaggy duraelaryn lifting massive canopies to the clouds, the drifts of poppies and vesnomen, murve and infith, tangled vines and waving grasses. I thought I was immune to landscapes at the time, but that ride through hill, vale, and field took my heart.

The field itself was roughly circular, laid out like Hyvurgren but far different in character. Jiiviisn in autumn is a fairyland of color, leaves painted in bronzes, browns, golds, sunburst yellows and blood reds, late-blooming flowers carpeting the field on which trees and undergrowth do not encroach, an azure-colored spring flowing through its center, passing beneath the shrine made of rough hewn stone that dominates the place. The shrine is flanked by bridges broad enough for horses and wagons to pass across, remnant of days when the Elder Shrines were meeting places for the early Jisraegen, who held marriage feasts in them, or burned their dead, or celebrated Vithilonyi.

We waited for the Sisters near the shrine. Kirith Kirin stood close to me. Sometimes he closed his eyes as if he were praying. He did not seem sad so much as agitated, and I wondered whether it mattered to him, really, that I was leaving.

Music from the forest. “They’re nearby. Do you hear?”

The Diamysaar rode out of the trees, singing, their voices clearer than any bird’s, and in spite of everything I was proud these high creatures had ever troubled with me. Commyna led the procession, black horse carrying her grandly, her hair crowned with gems, her wrists and fingers adorned with gold and silver, the skirts of her violet gown sweeping the grass. A slender silver sword was buckled round her waist. I had never seen her armed before, and never had reason to suspect she needed be. Vissyn and Vella followed slightly behind, Vissyn wearing brown buckskins, a close-fitting tunic and trousers, while Vella wore a full, high-waisted gown of gray, many strands of pearls weighted on her bosom. They rode like queens. Vissyn was leading a fourth horse, roan colored, already saddled and bridled, a bundle wrapped in black cloth tied to its back.