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BOOK: Love And War
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Goldmoon was silent for many moments, before she said, “If I do not doubt your worthiness,
then neither should you. And your fortunes might change.”

“And the gods?” Riverwind asked. “They will show us a way.” “Whose?” “Yours, mine, both -
it makes no difference. My mother used to say that hope is a gift from the gods we must never lose.”

“My mother has said that, too,” Riverwind replied. “Well, we must find some way out of
here, or it will truly make no difference to our corpses!”

Goldmoon felt him take her hand in his and together they edged their way along the wall.
They reached the passageway without trouble.

Wondering if her eyes were playing tricks, Goldmoon asked, “Is that a light ahead?”

“I think so.” They moved more quickly along the corridor toward the light. Soon it grew
bright enough that they could see all about them. Looking for the source of the
illumination, Goldmoon saw movement on the smooth cut rock. Looking closer, she realized
that the light came from brightly glowing red spots on the insects' backs.

“I think they're fire beetles,” Riverwind said. “Those are only in children's stories.” “I
think we are in a children's story,” Riverwind said able to chuckle a little in relief. “Let me have your crystal globe. These little light
legends may not live in other passages, so we will need to take them with us.”

Goldmoon unfastened the crystal globe from her belt and surrendered it. The other two
globes still lay on the grass outside. Riverwind gently scraped several of the beetles into the sphere. “Here's the lid,” she offered. “I'm afraid they might suffocate.”
“Air will get in. There are tiny holes in the lid,” the priestess explained. “I've often wondered why. Do you suppose these globes were originally
made for this purpose?” she asked.

“This one functions well as a lamp. That is all that is important.” Riverwind held the
globe up by its straps, and they made their way safely into the crypts of the Que-shu
royalty.

The crypt cavern was so huge that their little light did not illuminate the ceiling or the
walls beyond. At the edge of the darkness they could make out the shape of the tombs. The
very first they came to bore the inscription, “Tearsong - beloved of Arrowthorn.” Goldmoon
slid her hand along the words and then snatched it back. The rock was cold. “Cold as
death,” she thought, shuddering slightly. She moved hurriedly past the memorial to her
mother.

The floor sloped down as they passed the remains of three centuries of the princess's
ancestors. At the bottom of the slope, Goldmoon could make out a stone altar, carved with
the forever sign of her amulet. Realizing that she shouldn't be able to see the carving in
the darkness, she became aware that the light around the altar was blue, not red, and that
it came from the altar.

The priestess knew that the moment she had awaited had come. She knelt in front of the
altar and sang:

“THE RED SUN HAS RISEN. THE BLUE DOORS HAVE OPENED. I KNEEL HERE BEFORE YOU, TO SING YOU
MY SONG. YOU WHO HAVE LEFT US, WE ASK FOR YOUR BLESSING.”

Goldmoon waited patiently in prayerful silence for several minutes, but nothing happened,
no one answered. Fear crept into her. Was there some part of this ceremony that her father
had not known about, something that Tearsong had carried with her to the grave?

Then a voice spoke, “My beloved child! What joy it is to see you!”

“Mother!” Goldmoon cried out. Her throat constricted in emotion as all the years of
loneliness and longing for Tearsong, of quickly suppressed doubt that she would ever actually speak to her again, overwhelmed the young priestess.

Tearsong's laughter rang through the hall like tinkling glass and filled Goldmoon with a
pleasure that was also painful. The air shimmered with light as Tearsong's form coalesced
in the air behind Goldmoon. Tears of grief and joy welled in the princess's eyes. A
harvest of loving memories, which had long lain dormant in sorrow, filled her. Her
mother's sculpted features and jet-black hair were even more lovely than she remembered.

“Mother. This is Riverwind,” Goldmoon started to say, turning around to summon the warrior
forward, but all was darkness behind her.

“I cannot appear to Riverwind.” “But you must! You see, he does not believe that - ” “ -
that I am a goddess.” Tearsong nodded. "He is right.

I am a spirit only, and I have only a little time to speak with you - so listen carefully.
You are a woman now, Goldmoon, and you must hear the truth and accept it. The gods of the
Que-shu, the gods I served all my life, are false. It makes no difference whether or not
Loreman has written your name in the tribe's Book of the Gods. Men cannot make gods of
each other."

“But I am Chieftain's Daughter!” Goldmoon protested in disbelief.

The spirit of Tearsong smiled at her daughter's arrogance. “Your status in life, whether
chieftain or healer, priestess or shepherd, has no influence on the judgment of the true
gods. And the true gods will be your final judges, not your tribe, not your father, not
myself. The true gods reward each person in the afterlife according to his or her virtues,
not some circumstance of birth.”

Goldmoon shook her head, stunned. After Lore-man's betrayal and Hollow-sky's attack, this
was too much to bear. An idea came to her. “This is some kind of test of my faith. Oh,
Mother, I will never turn from our gods. I will believe in you always.”

A sad expression crossed Tearsong's face. “Your love for me is very great,” she said.
“That is why I was chosen to tell you of the true gods.”

Tears filled Goldmoon's eyes, streaming down her cheeks, dropping onto her robe, leaving
dark marks on the blue fabric. “But the spirits of the Que-shu will not obey me after
death if I am not a goddess - ” the princess argued, feeling cheated.

Her mother's tone sharpened impatiently. “You would do better to be grateful now for the gift of life and all it has to offer you, than to
dwell on what power you will have in death.” Death, even without godhood, had not robbed
Tearsong of her air of authority. Goldmoon was instantly silent and looked down at the
ground in shame.

Tearsong's voice softened at the sight of her daughter's confusion and unhappiness. “Time
grows short. Will you listen to what I have to tell you, daughter?”

“Yes,” Goldmoon nodded, eager to please her mother, lest she leave her.

“This place was really once the temple of one of the true gods, Riverwind's gods, a
goddess known as the Great Healer. Long ago, after the Cataclysm, people despaired and
abandoned their belief in the true gods. They must believe again, or this world will be
conquered by an ancient evil. I have been sent to offer you the first of many tests. If
you pass these tests, you will, in time, serve the Great Healer and lead people as her
priestess, as a true healer.”

“Tell me what this test is, and I will accept it.”

“It will not be easy. If you pass this test, harder tests will follow, tests that may
break your spirit, others that may destroy your body.”

Goldmoon straightened her back and answered proudly, “I accept that.”

"Very well, daughter. The first test is this. You must sacrifice these three things:

THAT WHICH HINDERS HEALING. THAT WHICH HINDERS LOVING. THAT WHICH HINDERS DARING.

“Let Riverwind guide you. He will be the leader of a leader. It is foreseen that someday
he will bring great power to your hands.”

“But he already has, Mother,” Goldmoon said excitedly. “He gave me this.” The princess
removed the forever charm and held it out for her mother to examine.

“That is the symbol of the Great Healer. It is powerful, but only on these sacred
grounds.” The vision of Tearsong reached out and took the amulet. “When you have passed
all the tests set for you and have become a true servant of the Great Healer, this amulet
will be returned to you.” The vision began to fade. “Farewell, daughter. I know you will
prove worthy of the honor bestowed upon you. Remember that my love is with you always.”
Then the vision was gone.

Goldmoon remained kneeling, still feeling the warmth of her mother's love and puzzling over the test her mother had given her. She did not know
how long she had been silent when she heard Riverwind crying out her name. The altar no
longer glowed blue, and all about her was darkness. When she turned toward Riverwind's
voice, she could see the circular, red glow of their fire-beetle lantern.

“I'm over here,” the princess called out.

“Goldmoon! Are you all right?” the warrior asked as he ran, limping, up to her. “Where
have you been? Why didn't you answer me?”

“I've been here all along, holding the ceremony I came to perform. I didn't hear you call
me.”

“I've been shouting your name for a long time now,” Riverwind insisted. Goldmoon could see
that his face was pale and anxious.

“How strange,” the princess whispered. “And I thought YOU had disappeared.”

Riverwind's voice grew stem, hiding his fear for her in a show of annoyance. “Don't ever
go off without me again! There's no telling what evil creatures inhabit this tomb! And you
with nothing to defend yourself but that stupid crystal dagger of yours.”

“It isn't a stupid dagger,” Goldmoon retorted. “It is a - ” The princess stopped in
mid-sentence. She had been about to say that it was a sacred relic of the Que-shu, but a
sudden insight made her gasp: A dagger HINDERED healing. She drew it from her boot-sheath.
She had not wiped off the blade after stabbing Hollow-sky, and the traitor's blood made
the crystal appear to be rusted. Shuddering from the memory of his final, long scream, she
placed it on the altar.

“Riverwind, hand me your shield,” she commanded.

Puzzlement clearly written on his face, Riverwind unstrapped the wooden disk from his arm.
“What are you going to do?” he demanded.

Goldmoon put her fingertips on his lips and said, “Trust me.” Riverwind let her take the
shield from him. She stepped close to the altar and raised the shield high over her head,
but then she paused and lowered it again to her side. If she destroyed the dagger, she
would have to explain to her father, probably to the whole tribe, why she had done so.
Loreman would find some way to twist her action to make it seem evil. Her father would
never forgive her. The tribe would not easily let go of their belief in their false gods.

Stealing a glance at Riverwind, she saw that he looked weary and ill. He limped with each
step, and there was a blood-red bruise on his cheek where Hollow-sky's longstick had struck him.

If she earned the amulet back, she could heal all his wounds, make him whole. That was a
power unknown in her tribe, a power that could help them all. A power, her mother had
said, that might prevent an ancient evil from conquering mankind. She raised the shield
quickly and smashed it down upon the crystal weapon.

Goldmoon dropped the shield to the side as the shards of crystal began to glow with a blue
light; the light grew brighter until it was painful to look at. The sound of glass chimes
tinkling in the wind crescendoed. Goldmoon heard her mother's voice.

“Taste now what you will know in full one day, my child, but think of the healing as a
GIFT from the gods, not a power.”

The shards of crystal on the altar spun about as though they were sand caught in a dust
devil.

Riverwind gasped in fear.

Then, in a flash, the jagged crystalline shards flew at the princess, penetrating her
flesh like darts.

“Goldmoon!” Riverwind shouted. He dashed forward to catch her as she fell back from the
altar. Her skin glittered with the splintered crystal.

“I'm all right,” she whispered calmly.

Riverwind gasped. There was no sign of pain on her face, no sign of blood on her robes.
“You should be dead.”

“No,” she answered hesitantly. “I have never felt so alive!”

Riverwind lowered her gently to her feet, but he did not let go of her fully.

Placing her hands on his cheeks, Goldmoon wished for him to feel as she did.

The warrior drew a deep breath of surprise. She smiled, feeling the tingling energy flow
from her hands into him. The crystal shards faded and disappeared. The weariness left
Riverwind's face, and the color returned to it. The wound on his cheek vanished without a
trace of a scar, and he stood up straighter, without any sign of pain in his knee.

“What have you done?” he asked in awe. “I've sacrificed the dagger as my mother told me to
do.” Riverwind's eyes narrowed. “I see. You've spoken to your gods.“ His tone was bitter. ”I've spoken with my mother,” Goldmoon corrected.

She could tell that the blank look he gave her masked disbelief.

“Oh, Riverwind,” she said softly, drawing him near. “Wanderer was right! You are right! My
mother told me this and more, much more! But - ”

Goldmoon lowered her head, her voice caught in her throat. She hadn't realized how hard
this would be to confess. Maybe she wouldn't tell him! Maybe she should let him continue
to think of her as a goddess. She had her pride, after all. ... Suddenly, the feeling of
peace began to seep from her. Her love for Riverwind turned into a knot of anger and
resentment.

Riverwind, sensing her growing coldness, began to draw away from her. . . .

THAT WHICH HINDERS LOVING!

“Don't! Please don't leave me!” she cried, clinging to him in panic.

“I won't!” he whispered, holding her close. “Not if you want me! Tell me,” he added
wistfully. “Did your mother say there was a way for us, even though you are a goddess?”

“That's what I've been trying to tell you,” Goldmoon said, ashamed. “I'm NOT a goddess. I
am mortal.” Half teasing, yet half fearful, she glanced at him through her long lashes.
“Can you love an ordinary woman, one who is not a goddess?”

“You - ordinary?” he repeated, his breath coming faster. “You could never be ordinary,” he
said solemnly.

Sinking into his arms, Goldmoon longed to remain there, wrapped in this blessed happiness
forever. But a thought caused her to raise her head and look up at him. “My mother told me
that she is not a goddess, nor are any of our ancestors. The true gods are the ones
Wanderer taught your family to believe in. I sacrificed the dagger as part of a test so
that I might one day become a priestess of the Great Healer, one of the ancient goddesses
whose temple this once was. But when I sacrifice my pride and return to the village and
tell them what I have learned, denying the old ways, I will be ridiculed. I will be
Chieftain's Daughter no longer.”

BOOK: Love And War
4.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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