Prophecy, Child of Earth (31 page)

Rhapsody's glance hardened. "I told you the truth. I'm looking for Oelen-dra."

Cedelia continued to stare at her. "What are you going to do now?"

'I told you the truth as well. I am escorting you as far as Tyrian City. What happens after that will be up to Rial to decide." en they left the house of the border watchers Cedelia returned the arrows to her quiver and slung her bow across her back.

'You are being covered from all angles. 'Twould be decidedly unwise for you to try anything untoward."

Rhapsody sighed. Her vision of paradise had dimmed considerably with the knowledge that they had been followed all along, that the Lirin thought she might be responsible for the heinous attack on the village. She could not allow herself to even think about Ashe.

In the first joyful hours of her walk when she was alone, communing with the forest through her music, she had learned much about the place. The forest of Tyrian was more than a hundred miles wide east to west; it was closer to two hundred going north to south. On its western edge it bordered the sea, running north to the Roland seaside province of Avonderre and south to the lands of the Lirinwer, the plains Lirin.

The wonderful impression she had of the attitude and plight of the Lirin who lived in Tyrian appeared to be borne out by what she had learned from the wood itself. It seemed macabre that she was now a virtual prisoner of unseen jailers, on her way to judgment by someone named Rial. Elynsynos had certainly not mentioned him, nor had Ashe. At the thought of Ashe Rhapsody went cold again.

'This way," said Cedelia politely. Rhapsody shouldered her pack and followed her down the muddy trail, rainwater dripping off the new leaves like tears.

wo more days of silent travel through thick vegetation brought them in sight of the city. Rhapsody had seen the guard towers long before she realizec what they were; a wall of ancient heveralt trees, a cousin species to tl White Tree, had been set on a hill-like rise and reinforced with a wide sto and wood barricade at their bases, from which ladders ascended into forms that connected their upper canopies.

The wall stretched north for as far as she could see, giving her the impress that the size of Tyrian City as akin to that of Easton. Before ^ wall ay a wide and steeply sided ditch, slick moss coating the bottom. Hundreds of I guards, men and women, traversed the connected aerial pbtformj»thi trees as effortlessly as walking on the earth. The sight filled Rhapsody wi wonder and sadness. The possibility that she would ever be welcome marvelous place was becoming more remote by the momer

Haifa mile or so outside the clearing that surrounded the crty, Cedelia a turn off course and led her into another hidden structure similar to the bord, watcher's house. Itnvas larger and better appointed inside, with no sleeping bunks but several long tables and many chairs. The windows each contained a mounted crossbow stand and windowbox-like vessels that held hundreds of bolts. A weapons rack with impressive contents took up the rest of the wall that the door was in. Cedelia drew forth her bow and nocked an arrow, holding the weapon ready but not pointing it at her.

'Take a seat," she said.

Rhapsody laid down her own bow and removed her pack, dropping it onto the table. She pulled out a roughhewn pine chair and sat down, sighing heavily.

They waited that way, Rhapsody and her guard, for more than an hour. Just when she was about to ask for water the door opened and a tall, silver-haired man came into the longhouse. He wore the same forest-colored clothing as Cedelia, with a dark red cape and a polished wood buckle on his belt. His face was lined with age but tanned and healthy, and his eyes smiled as he looked at her. He turned to her guard and nodded politely.

'Thank you, Cedelia." Cedelia slung her bow and returned her arrow to the quiver on her back. She took her leave silently and quickly, closing the door behind her.

The man crossed the room and came to a halt in front of her. "How do you do?"

he said, extending a hand to her and assisting her in her effort to rise. "I am Rial. I hope Cedelia has treated you well."

'Yes, thank you. My name is Rhapsody."

Rial looked her over intently but in a way she did not feel invaded by. Then he released her hand and pulled out a chair next to the one she had been sitting in.

Rhapsody sank into her seat again, her back aching at the hardness of the wood.

"You have a beautiful voice," Rial said as he sat down.

Rhapsody looked at him in surprise. "Excuse me?"

'I heard you singing a week or so ago, at least I assume that was you."

'You have been following us?"

'Nay," said Rial with a smile. "I've been here in Tyrian City. There are some things that transcend distance in Tyrian. Music of the kind you were making is one of them."

Rhapsody flushed with embarrassment. "Does that mean everyone heard me, or just you?"

His smile grew warmer. "I'm afraid'twas everyone. 'Tis nothing to be embarrassed about. It may have been the forest's way of telling its people something they need to know. Tyrian is more than a wood,'tis a living entity; it has a soul. Your music delighted the soul of Tyrian in a way it never has been before.

Tyrian decided to share it with its people."

Rhapsody ran a hand awkwardly over her hair. "Well, I'll try to keep that in mind before I open my mouth again."

'I hope you won't," said Rial. " 'Twould be a shame if you became self-conscious about something that might be useful to the people of your blood. You are Liringlas, are you not?"

'My mother was."

'Aye, I thought as much. Well,'tis an honor to meet you then, Rhapsody. I have only seen Liringlas visitors once before, when some of Cymrian descent came from Manosse to pay homage to the Great White Tree and stopped to pay a visit to Queen Terrell."

'Queen Terrell is the ruler here, then?"

'She was," said Rial, his dark eyes shining. "She has been dead three hundred years now. Her son's reign has come and gone as well; he died quite young, leaving no heir.

'At the moment the Lirin have no sovereign. I serve as Lord Protector. There are three others who serve as liaisons to each of the other Lirin factions that were subject to the queen as well, the Lirinwer of the plains to the southeast, the sea-Lirin to the southwest, and the Manossian contingent. The Man-ossians have their own government, but see themselves ultimately as subjects of Tyrian, or at least they did when there was a ruler. Now we are a fragmented people, almost as divided as Roland. 'Tis a shame, really."

Rhapsody didn't know what to say. She had expected to be interrogated for the murderous act of pillage that Cedelia quizzed her about, and instead she was receiving a lesson in Tyrian politics from the Lord Protector himself. Her forehead came to rest in her hand, her elbow on the table.

Rial rose and went to the door. He whistled a strange trill, and a moment later a guard came with a skin of water. Rial thanked him and brought it to her.

'Here; I can see you are overwhelmed. Why don't you have a drink and rest for a moment?"

Rhapsody accepted the skin, smiling. "Thank you. You're right; I am overwhelmed. I'm horribly sorry to hear about the raid on the Lirin village, but I didn't have anything to do with it, I really didn't."

Rial nodded. "I didn't think that you did. These border incursions have been going on for years, Rhapsody; your arrival in Tyrian had unfortunate timing. What can you tell me about your companion?"

Rhapsody thought for a moment. She was still unsure, after all these months in this new land, whom she should trust. Ashe had asked her to be his ally, and yet if she had inadvertently led him into Tyrian and he was guilty of the raid, she was responsible as well. She owed it to the people of her blood to help them find the aggressor.

On the other hand, if for some reason Rial and the Lirin were involved in something corrupt, something to do with the demon Elynsynos spoke of, she might be responsible for delivering an innocent man into evil hands. Lord Stephen had said that his wife had died in a brutal raid at Lirin hands. Achmed's policy of total isolation, trusting none but themselves, was looking better all the time.

'Not much that's accurate, I'm afraid. He calls himself Ashe. He guided me here from Ylorc—er, Canrif. He has done nothing to harm me, or anyone else in my time with him. He always walks hooded and cloaked. I have no plans to see him again."

Rial nodded again. "And why is it that you have come to Tyrian now?"

'I am looking for Oelendra."

'Would you mind if I asked the reason?"

Rhapsody looked at him directly. "No, I don't mind. I'm hoping she will train me in the sword."

Rial leaned back and looked thoughtful. "And how did you come to hear about Oelendra? She does not commonly train those outside of Tyrian anymore."

Rhapsody thought of Elynsynos and smiled to herself. "Someone thought she would be the best person to train me in the sword I carry."

'You have a unique kind of sword?"

'Yes."

'Interesting. I am a bit of an aficionado of the sword myself. May I see it?"

Rhapsody considered the wisdom of fulfilling his request, then decided to grant it. She prepared herself in case she had to fight her way out of the longhouse. Rial looked like a formidable adversary, and she would probably have to unleash all of her fire lore to get by him.

'Very well," she said, and drew Daystar Clarion.

The sword came forth with a blinding flash that filled the cabin with stark white light, then settled into the flames that licked up the glowing blade. Rial's eyes opened wide in shock and he rose slowly to his feet, unable to take his eyes off the weapon.

'Daystar Clarion," he said. His voice was filled with awe.

'Yes."

After a long moment he tore his eyes away from the sword and stared at her.

"You are the Iliachenva'ar."

'I believe so, if that's what this sword's bearer is called," Rhapsody said, trying not to sound flippant.

Rial lapsed into amazed silence again. Finally he spoke.

'I will take you to Oelendra now." cXhapsody's new guide was a man named Clovis, whose hair and eye color were so close to that of Cedelia that they could have been twins. He had a readier smile, however, and Rhapsody felt slightly more at ease with him as she was led from the longhouse and onto a southerly path. Rial touched her arm as she prepared to go.

'Rhapsody, I hope you know that you are welcome here in Tyrian. The forest itself has made that abundantly clear, and I hope I have as well."

'Thank you," she answered, smiling up at the Lord Protector. "Now let's see if Oelendra agrees with you."

'She will, no doubt. Oelendra has her eccentricities and her temper, but she is a wise woman. She wants more than anything to see the world safe and at peace; remember that."

Rhapsody tried to keep her smile from fading as Rial bent over her hand and turned to leave. She remembered Ashe's comments about his friends finding Oelendra to be a harsh, humorless taskmaster, but decided that whatever lack of humor she possessed, it could not be as bad as Achmed's. She watched as Rial faded into the trees, then followed Clovis down the forest path.

cAfter an hour's walk they came to the edge of a large clearing. It was a vast garden, almost a park, with sparsely spaced ornamental trees, tall grasses, and wildflowers giving it a feel that was more akin to a wild land than a formal garden.

But here and there were touches that showed the work of Lirin hands. A well-manicured path, a bed of flowers whose colors were too perfectly suited to be the haphazard choice of nature, the lack of any underbrush all pointed to guidance and intervention rather than random growth.

Off the neatly trimmed path, not far into the garden, stood a group of children, all with wooden swords, laughing at a joke by the sole adult crouched in their midst. Rhapsody turned to Clovis, who had stopped. He gestured toward the children.

They were gathered around an older woman with long silver-blond hair touched with streaks of gray and white. She wore no armor and bore no weapon, and was dressed in a simple white shirt and brushed leather trousers that looked as if they had seen much wear. The woman spoke in soft tones to the children, patiently adjusting one child's hold on his toy sword. Then she stopped as if she had heard something.

The woman stood, saying something in a low voice to the children before she began to approach Rhapsody. Rhapsody caught her breath as the woman crossed the garden, struck by the sight of her. She had shoulders almost as broad as Achmed or Ashe did, and coloring that made Rhapsody's hands grow clammy; the silver-blond hair, the rosy-gold skin, the long, thin limbs: She was Liringlas, one of the People of the Fields, a Skysinger, the same kindred as Rhapsody's own mother, a breed of Lirin that Rhapsody had seen no other traces of since long before she left the Island.

'Mhivra evet liathua tyderae. Itahn veriata."

Rhapsody felt her heart miss a beat. Spoken in Ancient Lirin, the words were from another time:
In you two rivers meet. How appropriate
. The accent, the dialect, were exactly as Rhapsody's own mother would have spoken, and the metaphor of joining rivers was one from Serendair used to describe those Lirin of mixed blood.

'Welcome," the worrvm said as she came close, smiling. Rhapsody found herself unable to move or answer, as a tangle of old emotions rose up in her heart.

She opened her mouth to speak but no sound came forth. Her eyes met the eyes of the woman and found the memory of a time long forgotten in them. A look of wonder spread slowly over her face, following the path of a tear that fell, unnoticed. "I am Oelendra." The woman placed her hand on Rhapsody's shoulder in a gesture of tenderness. "I am most happy to see you." She finally found her voice. "Rhapsody. I am Rhapsody," she said. "Oelendra, like the fallen star." An infinitesimal musical sound danced in the air as she spoke the word, whirling like an invisible funnel cloud until it shattered lightly, unseen, on the wind. "They didn't tell me you were Liringlas." She smiled, oblivious to her own tears.