Magesong (22 page)

The flames of the huge bonfire leaped high into the night
sky, higher than the young men who danced the goatstep, but no one feared an
errant spark.  All the newly-dried fodder had been safely stored in the barns
or covered by tar-cloth for days, and the land lay moist from the showers of
autumn.  The harpers strummed and plucked.  The big girls watched their
brothers step and step-jump, while the little girls sat with their mothers
weaving dolls from straw.  The boys too young to dance took futile turns at
blowing the great ram's horn that had been used to signal the start of Harvest
Eve, giggling and pushing as they qued for another try.

The older men and women sat in a circle at the edge of the
firelight.  As the bonfire burned down, their breaths came out frosty for the
first time of the new season.  Syliva wrapped her shawl tighter and leaned
against her husband for warmth.  "I wonder where they are now?"

"They're likely still sailing," Yothan said,
"probably out of Pallenborne waters by now."

"Didn't he say they were going to a place called Wind
Peak?" Celvake asked.  He stood and called out, "Hey Farlo!  Is it
really a custom in Syrolia to travel with a woman before you're
betrothed?"

Farlo laughed and turned back to his wife.

"Well I thought that it was very rude," Taila
sniffed, "the way they went off just when we needed every hand to get the
harvest in."

"We didn’t need extra hands," Kurnt said.  “It was
the smallest harvest we’ve ever had.”

“In some ways it was the best,” Syliva said.

“Good enough,” said Celvake.

"There's still that field of wild barley that no one has
done anything about,” continued Taila.  “And anyway, what's poor Syliva to do
now for a helper?  Who will be cure-giver when our grandchildren are
grown?"

Aksel made a flustered sound.  "They're coming back. 
Kestrin only wanted to see the southern lands, not live there."

Syliva rose from the yew log where she sat.  "I'm going
to talk to my son," she said.

The dancing had stopped, and Jonn crouched near the fire
studying the play of the flames.  Syliva gently stroked his hair.

She had known even before Reyin told her, that when her
spirit was ready, she could heal in her son what could be healed.

"What are you thinking about, Jonn?"

He watched an ember rise on the heated air.  "I forgot
to ask you something.  What did it feel like, when . . . when you were holding
it?"

She looked into his open eyes. 
One day, he'll tell us
what he saw in his secret wilderness
.

"It felt like this."  And she touched his hand.

THE END

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Thanks to Bill for the email,

and a special thank you to CJ for the encouragement.