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Authors: Janalyn Voigt

Tags: #Christian fiction

Dawnsinger (10 page)

BOOK: Dawnsinger
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Shae laughed. “I’m fascinated. You make me wonder if I know my brother at all.”

“I wonder if I know him any better. He keeps much to himself. It has made him a little…strange.”

The memory of Katera calling her “strange” for spending so much time in the Allerstaed made Shae smile.

Daelic looked inquiring. “I amuse you?”

“It’s nothing but some wraith of memory come to haunt me.”

“Tease you, more like, judging by your smile.”

Shae laughed at such fancies, but sobered when she caught a glimpse of Freaer. Incredible that she had forgotten him, for he claimed her thoughts when near. She did not altogether understand her preoccupation with him, nor did she trust it. She looked past Freaer to Eufemia, waiting beside the inner chamber door. “I’m well enough to see Lof Raelein Maeven, if she will receive me.”

“She will see you now if Praectal Daelic—”

“Yes, I’ve finished.” Daelic helped Shae to her feet and steadied her.

She limped forward, leaving behind her slipper, which would not fit over Daelic’s bandage. “How does she fare?”

“She seems much recovered.” Daelic frowned. “But since I have not been able to find the cause of her illness, I can’t know for certain it has mended. Time will show us more.”

Shae hobbled into the inner chamber, surprised to find Maeven sitting upright, her hair newly brushed and falling in waves about her. Maeven wore a simple overtunic of lavender embroidered with black and gold at the cuffs and collar. She seemed no less regal, propped in bed, than if seated on the ancient seat of carved strongwood in the Presence chamber.

Maeven rested her hands on the counterpane. “Have you recovered from your journey?”

Her face warmed. “I slept far too long, but I do feel better.”

“That is well.” Maeven gave a vague wave

Shae took the gesture as invitation to sit and perched on one of the bedside chairs. “And you, Lof Raelein?”

Maeven smiled. “Daelic tells me I improve, and I do feel better.”

“I’m thankful.”

“Freaer, play something on your lute, if you will. Then I wish to spend time alone with Shae.”

Shae started. She hadn’t seen Freaer follow her into the chamber and occupy his place in the window embrasure. At Maeven’s request, he took up his lute and strummed it as weak light sifted through the tall window. A bright melody wandered above dark notes. He sang, and the tale of

Iewald’s Betrayal

unfolded.

 

“Heed a tale of woe and dread,

And learn of sore defeat.

There now lies a warrior dead,

With dishonor on his head,

Brought low by low deceit.

 

“Iewald, Talan’s trusted friend—

First Guardian of Pilaer—

In fear’s name he’d never bend

Although garn fighters would descend,

Riding welkes from the air.

 

“Iewald fought and won the day

By wit, by speed, by might,

But death came, perfumed and gay,

In beauty leading him astray,

And Pilaer lost the night.

 

“What then of mortal might?

What then of faithful art?

Meriwen whispered of delight

And Iewald fell without a fight,

Overcome by his own heart.”

 

A musical interlude of melancholy beauty followed, ending on a sustained note, unresolved and fading.

Freaer made his bow and left the chamber in silence.

Maeven stirred. “Such a tale of sorrow brings memories. Sit there in the window, Shae. I delight in looking at you, especially when the light touches your hair with gold.”

Shae obeyed with a smile. “It’s pleasant here in the sun.”

“You are a sweet child. I’m glad I sent for you. Now tell me of your life at Whellein. Have you found happiness there?”

She considered. “Happiness is but one thread woven into the tapestry of life at Whellein.”

“Tell me of this tapestry, Shae. What other colors twine there?”

“Let me consider….the gold of happiness gleams alongside white threads of honor that touch the red of sacrifice made in the name of that honor.”

“Our tapestries are similar.” Maeven’s voice was dry. “Tell me more.”

Shae warmed to the game they played. “Purple threads mark the pageantry enjoyed and endured by a daughter of Whellein. But black also wends its way through the tapestry, to mar it with grief.”

“Ah, yes…threads of black… I have seen too many of those. But surely your tapestry holds lighter colors. What of hope?”

Shae smiled. “Hope comes in yellow and lies across days of green, whiled away in the solace of nature.”

Maeven smiled. “I once spent many such days.”

“I hope you will tell me of them.”

Maeven waved a hand. “Go on. Now I would hear of you.”

Shae mused. “Orange bespeaks a young girl’s wish to find worthiness by her own merits, but blue tells of failure.” Swift understanding settled on Maeven’s face, and Shae finished in a rush. “Silver threads glint within the cloth and show unmerited pardon. I think my tapestry must hold more of blue and silver than all the other colors combined.”

Maeven’s brow furrowed. “Tell me of your early days, Shae, and of your family.”

“I hope you will still think well of me after I give the tale. I would like to say I proved a good and biddable child, like my twin sister, Katera, but I cannot. All of my five sisters have impeccable manners, and of course, Kai could not disappoint in that regard. My older brother Daeven and I suited one another better. I don’t know from whence such waywardness comes. It led Daeven astray. I can only pray it will not do so in my case.”

Maeven gave a tender smile. “You remind me of—of someone I knew in my youth.” Her voice throbbed with emotion. “
So long ago…”

Shae’s throat caught at the sadness that haunted Maeven’s face. Words clamored, unspoken, just out of hearing. “Tell me.”

Maeven
grew silent. Shadows of memory flitted across her face. “Such feasts! What pageantry!” Her words fell in soft cadences. “It seemed each raven must outdo the next in welcoming Shaelcon, our new Lof Shraen
.
Allandra, his Lof Raelein
,
matched him in nobility and in grace and charm. Faeraven prospered and forgot the earlier days of struggle. Kunrat’s defeat and the rout of the Kindren from Caerric Baest
lived only in legend. The Cavern of Wonder became known ever after as
Caerric Daeft
, the Cavern of Death and none, save fell creatures, inhabited its reaches. Even Iewald’s betrayal of Talan at Pilaer shrank to a small tear in the fabric of history.

“The Kindren were glad to hunt and fish and till the soil, glad to marry and bring forth children. Few thought of the garns of Triboan at all, except as a brief shadow across the face of a glorious day. The garns, engaged in war elsewhere, left the Kindren in peace—but not forever. The day came when garns, no longer sated with the flesh of the southern Elder, turned their grotesque faces northward. They came first to the High Hold of Pilaer. Lof Raelein Allandra lost her life in the attack, and Lof Shraen Shaelcon fell captive. The Kindren grew faint of heart then, for an untried youth now wielded Sword Rivenn.”

Maeven paused, her eyes aglow. “He was a son of kings. Authority sat with ease on him, despite his youth.”

Shae stretched in the warmth of the window. “You speak of Timraen.”

Maeven smiled. “Untested and untrained save in the war games of his early days, yet Timraen stood in battle. He rallied the shraens of Faeraven and took the garns by surprise at
Krei Doreinn,
the place where three canyons meet, and there won a victory. They could not know that the main thrust of the garns that day would take Braeth, the fortress from which they had ridden forth. All the best fighters had gone to Krei Doreinn. When the garns came to Braeth, they killed and ruined all.

“My mother, Raelein Reyanna, had no chance. My father, Shraen Raemwold, never knew of the devastation that day, for he fell in battle alongside my brother, Seighardt, at Krei Doreinn. In but a day, I became both orphan and heir to a vanished kingdom.”

“I am sorry.” Shae’s voice softened and she blinked away moisture. It was one thing to learn this history from her tutor, and quite another to hear it from Maeven’s lips.

Silence fell, thick with memories Shae knew nothing of, but that formed a cast across Maeven’s features.

At last Maeven stirred. “In truth, my own life would have been forfeit had I not tricked the garns who planned to slay me, saying I knew the location of great treasure. They took me in chains to the garn king at Pilaer. He had little time to question me about treasure, however, for Timraen engaged him at once in battle and soon freed me. After that, I became Timraen’s bride.”

Maeven sent Shae a look that glinted. “The tale grows sad.”

“Oh surely not sad all the way through!” Shae protested, caught up past discretion. “You must have had joy in motherhood even after—”

“Timraen’s death?” Maeven supplied the words Shae hesitated to speak. She shook her head, the light picking out strands of silver in the cloud of brushed copper that framed her face. “Sometimes motherhood pricks more than it blesses.”

“Such a thought!” Shae had heard only good of her son, Lof Frael Elcon. “How do you have cause to utter it?”

A distant expression settled on Maeven’s face. “I have cause.”

 

 

 

 

9

 

Inner Garden

 

Shae ran her fingers through the row of strange garments, here and there picking out a fabric of interesting texture or pattern, touching cool silks, smooth linens, and fine wools. With a sigh, she let her hand fall to her side and turned away from the wardrobe. Her own familiar belongings waited for her at Whellein.

Kai leaned against the doorframe, although she hadn’t heard him approach. “What are you doing here?”

He straightened with a laugh. “Such a greeting! I could say brotherly concern brought me, but that’s not my whole motive. I came to tell you Lof Raelein
Maeven sleeps and will not require your presence until later this day.”

She frowned. Daelic had spoken of Kai as lacking in tender mercies.
Except when duty calls for tenderness.
If he had no message to give her, would Kai have sought her out?

She pushed the question aside but tested him. “You could have sent any servant to tell me that.”

He smiled, once again the brother she knew. “True enough. Now let me see your foot, Shae. Daelic tells me you injured it.”

“No.” She smiled back. “It’s nothing, and you should not be here in my inner chamber, brother or not. Where is my servant?”

“She must have slipped out on some errand. Your outer door stood open.”

Uneasiness ran over her. “I’m not sure about Chaeldra, Kai. She does not take her duties to heart.”

Kai smiled. “I’ve heard the same spoken of you, dear one.”

“Heed me!”

Kai’s smile died. “I’m sorry, Shae. If you mention your concern to Maeven I’m sure she’ll provide you with another maid.”

She hesitated. “I’ll wait and see. I hate to bring dishonor to one who may only need guidance. Perhaps something important occupies her just now. I’m certain she’ll return soon. When she does, however, she should not find us closeted here. Will you please leave?”

Kai sighed. “Shae, we slept alone in a hay loft, and you never once worried about seemliness.”

“That was different.”

“You defy convention at every opportunity.”

His words stung. “I don’t mean to do so.”

“Let me see your foot.”

Something in his tone answered her earlier question, and she gave him a soft smile. “All right, but let’s at least go into my outer chamber.”

He lifted an eyebrow as she passed him in the doorway, but followed in silence. When she sank onto one of the fireside benches, he fetched a footstool and, kneeling, unwrapped Daelic’s bandage with gentle fingers. She winced at sight of her bruise, which bloomed in shades of purple.

Kai whistled. “Does it pain you?”

“Not much at all, though Daelic thinks it may when I try to sleep tonight.”

“Daelic can give you an infusion to aide you.”

“He’s already done so.”

He wrapped the bandage again, bending to the task.

“Kai?” She spoke to the top of his head. “Tell me of your life here at Torindan.”

He looked up, and his silvered gaze meshed with hers. “What do you wish to know?”

She hesitated, choosing her words with care. “Your life—has it been hard?”

A change came over his face, making him look…guarded. “Why do you to ask such a thing?”

She shrugged, not sure how to answer.

Bending once more over her foot, he rewrapped her bandage. “Hard by whose standards? The definition of ‘hard’ varies.”

“Don’t be difficult.”

“What do you want me to say? My life has been—as it has been.”

“Have you missed Whellein?”

His fingers paused. He nodded, and a shaft of fading sunlight from the window tangled in his silver-gilt hair. “At first I did, but I accustomed myself to Torindan.”

“Did you find that difficult?”

“Difficult enough.” His fingers finished their task, and he rocked back on his heels. “Tomorrow you’ll not need a bandage.”

She waved a dismissive hand. “More has been made of my injury than it perhaps deserved.”

He watched her out of eyes more gray than silver. “What’s brought about these questions anyway? Are
you
homesick?”

Tears pricked. “A little…”

“You will adjust.” He gave her a lopsided smile, and then pushed to his feet. “As it is, your visit may not be over long.”

“Kai!” Her voice halted him in the doorway. “You’ve always taken care of my troubles. I-I’ve never given much thought to yours.”

He turned back to her. “That’s as it should be, Shae. You were but young. Remember when you made that pathetic raft and spent the night stuck in the reeds in the middle of the slough? Good thing I was home at the time or who would have guessed where you were?”

She blinked away foolish tears. “I remember.” Kai always knew where to find her when she was lost.

BOOK: Dawnsinger
6.77Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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