A Time of Exile (53 page)

“You always liked it here.” She sat up and began combing out her hair with her fingers.

“It’s beautiful, but where are we?”

“I don’t know. Just a place.” She lay down again and ran her hand down his back. “Do that to me again. It’s been so long, my love.”

“Much too long. Ye gods, I’ve missed you all my life and never known what I was pining for.”

But this time, as the pleasure of their lovemaking faded, so did the meadow. They were lying among the hazel thickets on hard ground where dark shadows stretched out long in the setting sun. Only the smell of roses lingered in her hair.

“It’s getting on toward night,” Rhodry said. “I hate to do it, but I have to leave you.”

“I know. I don’t want the old man to find out, anyway. But come back tomorrow?”

“I will. I promise.”

With a scatter of dead leaves she vanished. Rhodry stood up, only to stagger out of sheer dizziness. Cold sweat streamed down his back as he grabbed at a tree to steady himself. It was a long time before he could summon the strength to walk back to his horse, grazing patiently in the long grass. Yet, exhaustion or no, he knew he would come back to her, and not only for the strange sexuality she offered. It was the marvels. Somehow he’d been stupid enough to forget how she could take him to the Wildlands and show him the marvels there. All during his long ride back to the camp, he was wondering how he could have forgotten her at all. Her warning stayed with him, too: don’t let the old man find out.

Aderyn was gone when he returned to their tent, off somewhere in the main camp. Rhodry sat down, planning on resting for a few minutes, only to fall asleep where he sat. He woke once and had just enough energy to crawl into his blankets. When he woke again, sunlight was filtering through the tent walls, and Gavantar was crouching by the fire and stirring something spicy-smelling in an iron pot.

“Morning,” Rhodry said with a yawn. “Where’s the Wise One?”

“Oh, he took a packhorse and went down to the sea. There’s a variety of red seaweed ripe for harvest—good for stomach troubles, he told me.”

“And you didn’t go with him?”

“I’m going to leave this afternoon. Bronario’s daughter is still a little bit sick. Aderyn wanted me to stay with her this morning, just to make sure the fever doesn’t come back.”

“All right. I’d best eat and get on my way myself. It’s my turn to help lead out the herd.”

“You’re too late for that.” Gavantar sat back on his heels and grinned at him. “It’s nearly noon. I was going to wake you, but Cal said not to bother. You can take a turn tomorrow, he said.”

“Noon? Nearly noon?”

“Just that.” His smile faded. “Rhodry, are you all right? You look pale.”

“Do I? No, I’m fine. I just … I just had the strangest dreams last night, that’s all. Well, I think I’ll ride out and catch up with the herd, anyway. I feel like a cursed fool, sleeping when I should have been riding!”

But of course, instead of guarding the horses, he rode back to the willows and the hazel thickets, and without the slightest remorse over lying to Gavantar, either. She was waiting for him at the streamside, sitting on the ground and running her fingers through her long blue hair. He dismounted some yards away and began to unsaddle his horse.

“You didn’t tell the old man, did you?” she said.

“I didn’t. He’ll be gone for a few days, anyway.”

With a laugh she glinted away like a flash of light from a mirror and reappeared standing next to him.

“Then stay here with me until he gets back.”

“I can’t. I’ve got to go ride with the herd tomorrow. It’s my turn. We have to keep moving the horses around, you see, so they get enough to eat.”

With a puzzled frown she reached up to drape her arms over his shoulders, as light and languid as a bit of cloth. When he kissed her, suddenly he could feel her weight.

“There’s lots of food for your horse right here.”

“True, but we’ve got lots more horses back at camp.”

“You’re one of the elder brothers now. Isn’t
that
odd.”

“Is it? Why?”

“I don’t understand you people. You change so much.” She pressed herself close to him and kissed him. “Come lie down. Then we’ll go somewhere nice.”

Over the next few weeks, Rhodry grew very sly and very clever about stealing time for his White Lady. He did his share of the alar’s work, spent just enough time with Calonderiel and his other friends to allay any suspicion, and dug up one good excuse after another for his fits of melancholy and long solitary rides. Every now and then he noticed Aderyn studying him, but he always managed to
display enough good cheer to put the old man off. Everyone assumed that he was still pining for Jill on the one hand and adjusting to his new life on the other. After all, to go from being the most powerful human being on the western border to just another man of the People—and one without even any horses of his own—was the kind of change that would leave most men brooding. No one suspected the truth, that he was as much in thrall to his White Lady as any Cerrmor brothel lass ever was to her opium pipe.

Yet of course, she was as much in thrall to him. Every time he left her, she begged him to stay, and no matter how much he tried to explain, she could never understand that he needed food and shelter. When he tried offering to take her back to camp with him, she turned furious, screaming at him and clawing his face like a cat. He had so hard a time explaining those scratches to Aderyn that he resolved to stay away from her, but the next time that he had a chance to slip out and ride her way, he took it. She was waiting for him, as sunny and loving as if they’d never fought. Indeed, he had the feeling she’d forgotten all about it.

That day she took him to a place that she called, quite simply, the sea caves. Enormous amethysts, jutting crystals as big as a horse’s head and sparkling with mineral fire, lined those caves, and turquoise water as clear and warm as liquid light filled them. Together they drifted down winding halls through chambers walled with gold where creatures spoke to them in voices sweeter than any harp. At times it seemed to him that they were asking his help, begging him to stay and rid their country of some evil, but he could never quite understand the sense of their words, only its emotional tone. At other times he and his White Lady were left alone to satisfy his desire. When at last the vision faded he was too exhausted to raise his head from the grass at first, but then he became aware of thirst, so urgent it was like a burning in his mouth. He hauled himself up, staggered out up to his knees in the pond, and gulped water until he could hold no more. She came to sit beside him and stroked his sweaty forehead with a pale, cool hand.

“The sun’s in the east,” he said at last. “It must still be morning. But it seemed we were gone a long time.”

“What? I don’t understand.”

“Just time passing, that’s all. It seemed like days, but it couldn’t have been more than a few hours.”

She stared at him, her eyes narrow, her lips a little parted, in utter confusion.

“Well, don’t worry about it, my love. It doesn’t matter.”

Yet, when he reached camp, he found that it did matter. As he rode up, a couple of men came running, asking him where in the hells he’d been for the last two days. He realized, then, just how long he’d been gone—lost in her strange world and without a bite of food or a mouthful of water. He ducked into Aderyn’s tent to find Aderyn, Gavantar, and Calonderiel discussing how many riders they should take to search for him. A crowd of overexcited Wildfolk swarmed and roiled round the tent. At the sight of Rhodry, Calonderiel jumped to his feet and grabbed him by the shoulders while the Wildfolk rushed over to grab his ankles or dance around him in glee.

“By the Dark Sun herself!” Calonderiel said. “I thought you’d fallen down a ravine and gotten yourself killed! You dolt! Riding out alone like that! There’s poisonous snakes out there, you know! You ever do this again, and I’ll break your neck myself!”

Rhodry could only stare openmouthed at him.

“Cal? Gav?” Aderyn’s voice was so cold that Rhodry suddenly realized that the old man knew the truth. “Out.”

Sweeping up the Wildfolk, they went without a word of protest. Sick and shivering, Rhodry knelt by the fire and held his hands over the warmth. Aderyn watched, more troubled than angry.

“I’m sorry,” Rhodry blurted at last.

“Don’t be. It’s mostly my fault, because I should have warned you. I was going to warn you, once I figured out how much I could say. I never dreamt she’d find you this quickly, that’s all. To tell you the absolute truth, I was hoping she’d never find you at all. Stupid, wasn’t I?”

When Rhodry started to feed a few more twigs onto the fire, his hands spasmed and sent the twigs flying. Aderyn got to his knees and laid one hand on the back of Rhodry’s neck. Warmth flowed from his fingers and drove the chattering cold from his veins.

“Where did you meet her?”

“I won’t tell you. You’ll hurt her.”

“That’s not true.”

“You’ll keep us apart.”

“Now that
is
true.”

Without thinking Rhodry turned and swung at him, an open-handed sweep of an arm intended to knock the old man’s hand away and nothing more, but Aderyn merely swayed back and let him fall spraddled onto the floorcloth. Only then did Rhodry realize just how exhausted he was. He lay doubled over for a long moment, summoning the energy to lift his head up and struggle into a sitting position. Aderyn sat down facing him.

“I’m sorry,” Rhodry whispered. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me.”

“She’s like a fever, or a poison in the blood, but it’s your mind and soul that’s infected. And truly, you’ve done it to yourself. She can’t help herself or stop what she’s doing, any more than a fire could stop burning your hand if you were stupid enough to stick it into the flames.”

“How did you know?”

“For the past few weeks I thought you had a love affair going and were just too embarrassed to mention the fact. My age seems to take people that way.” Aderyn smiled briefly. “It was obvious you were hiding somewhat, and every now and then I’d see you smiling to yourself like any man will do when he’s been with a woman he fancies. But then you disappeared, and I was worried sick, fearing the worst, and sure enough, you come staggering in here, drained of your very life and pale as a birch tree—all at once I remembered the dream you had. I should have known she was close by. I’ve been much distracted these days, and busy with my apprentice, too, but I should have seen it then.”

“Well, it’s my shame, not yours. You’re not the one who’s been—” The words stuck like thorns in his throat as he finally saw just how unnatural his lust was. “Oh, ye gods, I’m sorry.”

Aderyn said nothing, staring into the fire as if he could read the flames like writing. Rhodry was only aware of his shame, burning in his face worse than any fever. Yet even in his dishonor he knew that the marvels had snared him more than the sex. He could remember them so vividly, those bejeweled caves deep under waves that never broke on any
earthly shore, or the rose meadows, breathing perfume in a golden sunlight. He could hear the harsh shrieks of the peacocks, strutting through the emerald grass, and see just beyond them a ruby mound of roses, big as a dun. He got up and began walking over to those roses, drawn by the scent until a stinging pain flooded his face. He tried to ignore it and keep walking, but the pain came again. The vision vanished with a rushy hiss like water dropped into a pot of hot oil. Rhodry found himself staring up at Aderyn, who was leaning over him, one hand still raised.

“This is very bad,” the old man said. “She’s come right after you.”

Aderyn stepped back, stretched out his hand, and began turning slowly in a circle while he chanted under his breath in some language that Rhodry didn’t recognize. It seemed that he was using his pointing finger to draw a big invisible circle around the tent and to scribble some sort of figure at each quadrant, too. As soon as he’d gone round three times, Rhodry felt as if he’d been suddenly shaken awake after a night of vivid dreams. While he could remember that he’d seen marvels, he couldn’t remember a single detail, and the tent seemed far more real and solid than it had in weeks. Yet the world around him was also strangely bleak—tawdry, somehow, and dirty round the edges, as if it were some rich and beautiful shirt, all embroidered in Bardek silk, that he’d worn and worn until it was frayed bald and stained, fit only for giving to a beggar to keep off the cold.

“You’ve got to give her up.” Aderyn’s voice was cold and harsh. “Do you understand me? She’ll kill you if you don’t.”

The anger he felt caught Rhodry by surprise. He wanted her, wanted the marvels, wanted them so badly he had a brief thought of killing anyone, even Aderyn, who stood in his way. The old man stepped back so sharply that Rhodry knew his rage must have shown on his face.

“Please, Rhodry, listen to me. You’ve touched on the edge of forbidden things, and it’s hard for me to explain, but—wait, I know. Think of it this way. That dream you had? It’s an omen. She’ll kill you without even meaning to do it if you keep going to her. She’s sucking the life-force
out of you, and soon enough your body will weaken and die, because there won’t be enough force to sustain it. I know that doesn’t make a lot of sense, but—”

“Cursed right it doesn’t! Ye gods, don’t you understand? Dying seems a small price to pay for what she gives me.”

Aderyn stared, simply stared at him for a long time.

“Things are worse even than I feared,” the old man said at last. “But there’s one last thing you don’t understand. Maybe you’re willing to die, but what about her? Are you going to drag her down with you? She thinks I hate her, but she’s as much my charge as you are. She has no mind to understand what happens between you. She loves you, and that’s everything and all that she knows about this world.”

Almost against his will Rhodry was remembering her confusion over simple things like names and time passing.

“She’s become the way she is because she knows you want her that way,” Aderyn went on. “You’re doing this to her, Rhodry Maelwaedd. If she goes on trying to please you, she’ll be utterly ruined, caught between the lands of men and elves on the one side and the Wildlands on the other. The Wildlands are her true home, but soon she’ll lose them, get herself shut out of them, and all because of you. Do you want that? She’ll be doomed, a bit of cosmic refuse, suffering for half of Eternity, and all because of—”