Kirith Kirin (The City Behind the Stars) (61 page)

Taking a deep breath, I told what had happened. They listened as if wrapped in enchantment and I was proud of what I’d done for the first time. I finished with, “So then I broke shadow as far as I could reach and claimed my ground.”

“How far?” Kirith Kirin asked.

“East to the mountains but not as far south. He still holds the five Towers there.”

“A victory even so,” Imral said.

“Maybe not so much. I took a place from him that he never built. He’ll be sorry he never pulled Laeredon down and built a Tower of his own, which I couldn’t have taken. But he’s sure he’ll get it back, he told me so.”

Kirith Kirin kissed my brow and told me, “Don’t diminish what you’ve accomplished. You’ve made a way south.”

The thought seemed new to me then, though the fight for Laeredon was days old. I had taken a High Place from the Wizard himself. A story had been made that women and men would tell for a long time. I mulled this. Lifting my cup, I said a silent prayer to YY-Watchful.

Talk moved to other subjects. We had come together for council and, when Gaelex returned and got us food, we settled over the fire and the meal. Kirith Kirin told me some of what had happened since I left them. When it was clear I had won my fight, they made strategy, and the result was different from the early plans, as I had seen. Kirith Kirin meant to deal with the Queen’s army in Vyddn before coming to Genfynnel. This had caused some argument, since it would be unprecedented for the Successor to move out of Arthen in that fashion, making war on the army of the Crown. But these were hard times, and no one saw the wisdom of our soldiers marching south with an enemy already at their backs. King Evynar and the Venladrii would follow Kirith Kirin’s lead, and so plans were made to divide the Armies, one part moving to reinforce my presence in Genfynnel and the other part marching in a two-pronged attack on the Queen’s forces in Vyddn.

Karsten questioned me when this much had been told. “Have you seen any movement among the Vyddn troops since Drudaen abandoned them?”

“No. He rode away from them suddenly, as soon as I rode out of Arthen, and I don’t know what contact he’s had with them since. He won’t know what troops are moving in Arthen, but I expect he’ll know about the soldiers moving through the mountains. My veil doesn’t reach as far as that, but his eye does.”

“The Venladrii know how to move hidden,” Imral said. “But if you saw them, I guess he did too.”

“Why would he leave an army there if he knows we’re marching on it?” Pelathayn asked, and then answered himself. “To slow us down.” Nodding his head.

“Troops mean nothing to him now,” Karsten said. “He has more Verm, when he needs them. But with Jessex in the field, he needs time. Will he be able to reach across you to help his folk in Vyddn?”

I shook my head. “I’ve been preparing for that, since I saw the split in the armies. That’s part of why I rode out here to meet you. I can help you from Laeredon, but I didn’t want to move my hand there without leave.”

Silence fell for a time. Imral passed more brandy round, and we drank as sunset approached, shadows lengthening. Gaelex returned with a gift of fresh cheese from the farm and with news of the farm-folk’s joy that it was Kirith Kirin who camped on their ground. She reported this herself. “They heard a voice out of the clouds to tell them you were riding, sir.” Crafty woman, she managed a glance at me sidewise. “They claim the whole countryside will rise up to follow you if that’s what you need.”

I told that part of the story too, and finished with the settling of the city under authority of Zaevyeth. Kirith Kirin listened carefully to these details and questioned me as to my dispositions. The choice of the Finra pleased him; “That’s an Anyn house,” he said. “Those people will know this isn’t another Jisraegen war against them. You did a good thing there, though I daresay you didn’t realize it.”

“I got the first eligible person I could find who hadn’t fled the place. I’d no idea what else to do.”

“So we’ll find no opposition in the City,” Karsten said.

“None. Most of the Queen’s soldiers surrendered when I made it clear their only other choice was to head for shadow. The Verm left long ago, except for the wounded.”

Karsten gave Kirith Kirin a sharp look. “So they gave up rather than return to her service. I smell a new strategy coming. Maybe we don’t need to fight the Vyddn folk, maybe we can offer them terms.”

“I’d thought of that,” he agreed, and Imral was nodding too. “This is a good piece of news, Jessex. We wondered how much support Drudaen had among the Queen’s soldiers, after shadow. Now we know.”

“The Vyddn army has had a few days of sunlight to think about what’s coming” Imral said, mildly. “That may soften them. That and the fact that their wizard has abandoned them in the field.”

These thoughts lifted their spirits, and so we broke council for a time. The moment of sunset neared and Amri, traveling with this party, stood some distance away with the muuren in her hand. We approached her and listened to the Evening Song. The girl’s voice astonished me, her silver eyes and dark skin glowing in the twilight. The Venladrii have the vocal range as we do. I stood close to Kirith Kirin, a place no one begrudged me. When the song was done, we wandered into the meadow, the whole party of us. The kindling of Kirith Kirin’s spirit was plain. Here he walked, free of Arthen. A journey had begun which might lead him to his Crown.

The farmfolk had come out for the song too, and when it was done, one of them got Gaelex to approach us again. The Marshall strode to us with a wicked gleam in her eye and, head bowed, refusing to look the Prince in the eye, said, “The farmer and her husband beg leave to give their bed to you Kirith Kirin. She says she can’t rest in it herself when the Prince Kirith sleeps on the ground. It would do her honor, by her own words, and she’ll have a story to tell her grandchildren when you’re King.” Here was the part that made Gaelex merry. “I told him that if you accepted the offer, there might be two.”

He allowed himself to raise a brow at her but no more than that. He looked at me. “Well. a bed would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, it would,” I said, my face heating.

No one laughed. Kirith Kirin directed her to accept the generous offer and to post a guard there. “Warn them we’ll be a while at our talk here.”

“They’ll be moving into the barn for the night, I think.” Withdrawing in her formal way, she set about making these things happen.

Returning to the fire, the others spoke more on the subject of armies and strategy. Karsten and Kirith Kirin told me what help they might need if there were fighting in Vyddn. We agreed on signs to tell me which of the strategies to follow, and I gave them kirin-stones to use to send me signals. This took more time than the summary of it, and we went late to bed in the farmhouse.

Before we went there, Kirith Kirin took me walking under moonlight in the meadow, away from the encampment. Some distance from the farmhouse stood a duris-nut orchard and we wandered in that, along the stream that traced its path through the place. Silence helped to drive away the thoughts of the council. He slipped his arm around my waist and I did the same for his, liking the taut muscles of his side, the movement as we walked. “I remember that hand,” he said, sighing. “I just wish you had two.”

“I do, but one’s not fixed yet.”

Some heaviness had settled on him, and I waited for him to bring it out. We stepped under low branches, by the flow of water over rounded rock. Tonight we had the red moon, after an absence of many days, and after some time staring at the red reflection in the water, he said, “The night you fought him, I watched. One time, near morning, Ellebren went dark and I thought you were dead.”

I remembered my vision, the lovely face turned to stone. I pulled him close, holding him as hard as I could with the one arm I had. “I didn’t die. Here I am.”

“You came close, You won’t say it, but I can tell. I don’t know what I would have done.”

“You would have gone on being Prince.”

“Forever with a taste of ash in my mouth. And no hope.”

Clumsily, with the splinted arm, I touched his face. “If I lost you I would feel the same. But I haven’t lost you. Here you are. Let this other feeling go.”

He sighed, but the heaviness would not lift. There was something he had not said. I kissed his mouth, the tenderness opening to me. After that I knew where his fear came from, not from reading his mind as magicians can, but from the feeling between us, so new and open. He felt the difference in me. Finally he said it. “He hurt you deeply, I can feel the change. When you left me you were a boy, whole. Now there are wounds in you. I can feel them, little as you make of it.”

“It was a hard fight. But I had to win.”

“I don’t know if I can do this. Her gifts can be so cruel. Here you are, and I love you with all my heart. But I have no choice but send you to fight the one enemy against whom I have no other weapon.”

“I think it was her wisdom made her shape the gift this way. Not cruelty.”

He shook his head, speechless. The hurt ran deeper in him than I guessed. I remembered the moment when lights of Ellebren died. He spoke haltingly. “I’ve known the great magicians, Jessex. I’ve seen what magic does. That was part of my fear and anger, when I saw you that morning with the Sisters.” He searched my face, as if he had lost me. “I don’t want this life for you. But the choice isn’t mine. And it’s too late to take my love back —”

“Please don’t even say that.”

He drew me close, lay his cheek against my neck. It is something when an immortal is tender. I let him stand against me, holding his weight against my slighter frame. “When I was on Laeredon, near the end of the fight, for a while I thought I was lost and my death had come. But I saw your face. You were on the walls at Inniscaudra and you were watching the Tower lights. When they went dark you turned to stone. The terror of that went through me. Maybe without the thought of you I would have died there, who knows? But when I thought of you I remembered I was alive, I remembered I had a heart, and I finished the battle and won.”

“That was the moment. I was there.”

“You see? Maybe YY sent me as she did because only a boy who loved you could fight your enemy well enough.” Trying to smile, I said, “Anyway, I was never a very good archer. I’d probably have gotten killed the first time I took to the field, and then where would we have been?”

He made a sign against the bad luck of chance words, and kissed my brow. “I guess you’d have had to fight one way or the other, same as we all do.”

“I don’t mind what YY made me into. It’s not so bad, as long as there’s someone who won’t run when he sees me.” I told him then about the doctor in Genfynnel, and the feeling afterwards, when I saw the dead.

“Some of the change I feel in you comes from that. Better to feel the weight of what you’ve done than to brag about your killings. We’re what we are, I guess.” He sighed. “Some lovers can at least swear to love each other beyond the grave. We can’t even do that, can we?”

He meant that magicians do not always die with their souls intact. “Listen,” I said, “I promise you this. If he ever comes so close that I think my soul is in danger, I’ll cut the cord myself, race him to Tornimul and love you forever from beyond the Gates. All right?”

He laughed at my grim scenario. But it did ease him, to think that such an escape might be possible. Kentha had managed it, after all. It is a terrible thing to dream that one you love can die forever, without any hope of birth in the land beyond. “All right. As long as you meet me there when I cross the mountains. Don’t go running off with the first hero who turns your head.”

This was nearly as much as we could do for each other, with words. The moon drew behind clouds and wind blew. Of one mind, we headed to the farm house with its circle of sentries awaiting his approach. “There’s one thing I want to know,” I said, “it’s been on my mind to ask you. When you found me inImith Imril, did you already know I would be there?”

“Yes,” he said, laughing, and we walked side by side across the red-washed meadow.

3

The bed had seen a lot of use. A good goose-down mattress, and as a bonus one could hear the geese out the window. Kirith Kirin could barely stand in the room, the ceiling was so low. We undressed by a single lamp and lay down in the clean linen, smelling the pig sty and the chicken roost through the torn grease-paper. He made a joke about it and we lay together talking for a while, touching shyly. The room made him curious about my farm and my family and I told him some about it. “When all this is over,” he said, “we’ll go there. I want to see the place. If you can stand the sight.”