Prophecy, Child of Earth (39 page)

Rhapsody spun gracefully and knocked Urist to the ground, jumping over the staff and rolling out of the way in time to unbalance Syntianta, who stumbled into Urist.

Then, with a ringing sweep, she slapped the quarterstaff out of Oelendra's hands with Daystar Clarion, sending it spinning into the trees.

Oelendra laughed aloud and embraced her student, pulling the blindfold from her eyes. "That's enough for today; let us celebrate. Congratulations, Rhapsody; you now dance almost as beautifully as you sing." night Rhapsody decided to trust Oelendra with one of her greatest secrets. Unlike the others she had already imparted to her, this one affected her friends. She remembered Achmed's caution to her, and decided to follow Oelendra's advice and trust her heart. It told her she was safe.

She tiptoed down the upstairs hallway to Oelendra's bedroom. A light was still burning; Rhapsody knew that many nights Oelendra did not sleep at all. Being full-blooded Lirin she had no need to, as she was refreshed and reju venated by the subconscious meditation that resulted from the vibrations that her physiology drew from the forest. She tapped softly.

'Come in, dear."

Rhapsody opened the door. Oelendra was sitting up in bed, unbinding her long thin braid. The sight of her caused tears to well up in Rhapsody's eyes. Her mother had taken down her own hair each night when they were alone, and she had brushed it and Rhapsody's before the fire. Oelendra represented her mother in so many ways that it never failed to cause her the pain of memory when something reminded her of this. Oelendra knew instantly that it had happened. She patted the bed next to her.

'Sit down." Oelendra began brushing her hair.

Rhapsody complied. "Oelendra, tell me of the Three, and the prophecies about them."

Oelendra smiled. " 'Twere rantings, Rhapsody. Manwyn was trying to spare her sister from being cast out by the Cymrian Council. It didn't work. The Council banished Anwyn in spite of her sister's promises that saviors would come to undo the wrongs she had committed. After four hundred years, I think'tis time we give up the fantasy and make different plans."

Rhapsody nodded. "Do you remember exactly what she said?"

'Aye; I helped write them down. Why?"

The Singer smiled. "Well, you know me, always searching for lore."

Oelendra looked at her seriously, then began to recite the words in the language of the Cymrians.

The Three jhall come, leaving early, arriving late,
The lif&tage

Child of Blood, Child of Earth, Child of the Sky

Each man, formed in blood and born in it,

Walkf the Earth and diutamed by it,

Reaching to the He ajcendj there only in hit ending, becoming part of the dtarj.

Blood gived new beginning, Earth givej Jiuftenance, the Sky give<> dreanu in
Life
—

eternity in death. Thüti <>hall the Three be, one to the other.

Rhapsody nodded. "And there has never been a further explanation?" "Not really," Oelendra answered. "The sages studied Manwyn's words, trying to discern their meaning, and finally decided'twas an allegory that meant anyone could kill the F'dor, since she spoke of the lifestages of all men. I didn't believe that at the time, but I have decided since that'twas more or less useless information. Why are you so interested tonight? Did you have a dream?" "No," Rhapsody answered.

"And there was no other explanation?"

'Well, actually, Anborn, Gwylliam's son, asked Manwyn before the Council how the Three would repair the rift." "Do you remember what she said?" Oelendra nodded and thought a moment.

AJ each life begins, Blood u> joined, but ut spilled a<> well; it divider too
easily to heal the rift.

The Earth u> shared by all, but it too u> divided, generation into generation.

Only the Sky encompassed all, and the <>ky cannot be divided; thiu jhall it be
the meanj by

which peace and unity will come. If you Mek to mend the rift, General, guard
the Sky, l&>t it fall.

cXhapsody laughed. "Well, that was helpful."

Oelendra put her hairbrush down on the bedside table. "Now do you see why I don't put any stock in the babbling of a madwoman?"

'Yes, but perhaps you should."

Oelendra looked sharply at her. "Say what you mean, Rhapsody."

The Singer regarded her seriously. "You know I didn't sail with you, Oelendra, yet you know I am also a First Generation Cymrian. You have assumed that instead of sailing with the Cymrians I went to a country nearer to Ser-endair, as so many Liringlas did, but I did not. I actually have only been in this world for a very short time. I have told you about Grunthor, my Bolg friend who taught me the sword. I should probably tell you that he is Cymrian as well. We came with a third friend." Her voice grew softer as Oelendra's eyes widened. "He is Dhracian."

Oelendra took her hand, clutching it. "You're one of the Three?"

Rhapsody shrugged. "I think so. I mean, I don't know, really, but Grunthor is tied to the Earth, and Achmed to blood. And since I am Liringlas, I would guess that could make me a child of the sky."

'Leaving early, arriving late," Oelendra murmured to herself. "None but the sky encompasses all, thus shall it be the only means by which peace will come and unity will result." Her eyes began to shine. " 'Tis you, Rhapsody; I knew it from the moment I saw you. Even if you weren't one of the Three, I believe in my heart that you are the one to do this; the true Iliachenva'ar. The sword has borne out Manwyn's prediction." Her hands trembled slightly from excitement.

'Now, Oelendra, don't get carried away," Rhapsody warned. "I know nothing of the Three, and if it is foretold, nobody foretold me. I just thought you should know that I didn't come alone."

'And you will never be alone again, Rhapsody. Whatever it takes to prepare you for this fight, whatever your destiny may be, I am here for you."

cXhapsody had awakened early, the sonnet from her dreams still nattering in her head. She had bathed, and dressed, but it still wouldn't leave, driving her to distraction.

She listened at the door to see if her predawn putterings had disturbed Oelendra, but there was no sound from the hall. Rhapsody eyed the lute in the corner with annoyance, then gave in with a sigh, knowing that once the composing session began she would have to see it through or be unable to think of anything else.

She made herself a cup of tea. As she sipped the steaming liquid she remembered Ashe's insulting comments and wondered what the problem was. It didn't taste that bad to her.

She settled into the comfortable chair across from the fireplace, tuned the lute, and began to play. At first the song was cold, uncooperative, but after a few minutes the notes began to flow with more regularity and the melody started to take shape. Rhapsody played softly so as not to disturb her host. Soon the room began to hum with creative energy, adding to the light and warmth within it.

The fire sang on the hearth, crackling in rhythm to the notes from her lute, hissing in time. Rhapsody was lost in the music when the door opened.

'Are you ready?" Oelendra asked, entering the room. She was dressed in her customary leather armor, worn from years of workouts, and carried her high-collared cape.

Rhapsody looked up from her lute to the iron-grated window. Morning was still at least an hour away.

'It's dark outside, Oelendra," she answered, her fingers continuing to work on the strings.

'Aye, but you're awake, or at least you do a good impression of it."

Rhapsody smiled at her. "I am almost finished with this sonnet," she said, her eyes returning to her instrument. "It will be completed before the sun comes up. As soon as I'm done I'm at your disposal."

'Funny," Oelendra said quietly, "I was of the notion that you were at my disposal regardless."

It was an odd comment, and Rhapsody looked up. Oelendra was studying her intently. When her eyes met Rhapsody's, she smiled. Rhapsody smiled back, feeling as if she was missing something.

'My focus should be better today," she said, returning to the sonnet. "Once this song is out of my head, I should be able to concentrate again."

'Really?" Oelendra's voice was kind.

'Yes," Rhapsody said, tuning a string that had slipped flat. "This lute is a harsh taskmaster. It nagged at me all night while I slept; that's why I got up so early. It keeps drawing my attention back to the song, demanding I finish it. I don't think it will let me rest or focus until it's done."

'What an annoying instrument. Well, if that's all—" Oelendra reached out and yanked the lute from Rhapsody's hands. As Rhapsody opened her mouth in protest Oelendra smashed the instrument into the wall, then threw it across the room into the fireplace, where it splintered into crackling fragments and the whine of burning gut strings. Rhapsody's eyes stung in astonishment as she watched the wood begin to kindle.

'Well, then," Oelendra said lightly, "now that'tis not a problem anymore, are you ready to start?"

It took a moment for Rhapsody to regain her voice. "I cannot believe you just did that."

'I'm waiting."

'What in the name of the One-God is the matter with you?" Rhapsody shouted.

She gestured at the fireplace. "That instrument was priceless! It was a gift from Elynsynos, filled with lore and history. And now it's—"

'

'Tis going to keep the room warm."

'You think this is
funny'
!"

'Nay, Rhapsody, I do not." All pleasantries had been stripped from Oelendra's manner, replaced by a cold, angry determination. "I don't think this is funny, and I don't think this is a game, though you seem to. This is about as deadly serious as it gets, and you'd better begin acting like you understand this. You are now the Iliachenva'ar. You are one of the Three—you have a job to do."

'That doesn't excuse what you did! I do have other responsibilities, Oelendra, besides this. I'm a Namer, too. I have to practice my profession, or I'll lose it."

Rhapsody swallowed rapidly, trying to contain the anger that was burning behind her eyes.

Oelendra began to pace the room restlessly. "Perhaps, but, rare as they may be, there are other Namers in this world. There is but one Iliachenva'ar. You have a tremendous responsibility to live up to. The rest of your interests do not matter."

Rhapsody felt her fists begin to coil in fury. "Pardon? Are you now dictating what I am? I don't remember volunteering for this assignment."

'Nay, you were conscripted," said the Lirin champion, a harsh edge in her voice.

"Now get up."

'Oelendra, what is the matter with you?"

A washbasin and pitcher shattered against the floor, sending shards of crockery flying, as the Lirin champion slammed the washstand into the wall. "I can't kill the damned thing; that's what's the matter with me!" Oelendra snarled. "If I could, it would have been ashes on the wind ten centuries ago. But I failed; I made mistakes, and the price has been great. You can't let it escape, Rhapsody. Your destiny is foretold, and you can shrug at it all you like, but you will kill the F'dor, or die trying. You have no choice. My responsibility is to give you a chance to be successful at it, and you are wasting my time."

Rhapsody closed her mouth; it had been open since Oelendra's tirade began.

She tried to formulate the words to calm her mentor down, but realized immediately that she couldn't. There was more than rage in Oelendra's eyes, there was something even deeper that Rhapsody couldn't fathom. She remembered the warnings about Oelendra's fury and her reputation as a harsh taskmaster. All she could do was try to stay out of her way.

'Listen to me, Rhapsody. I have sent eighty-four fully trained warriors after this beast, and not one of them,
not one
, has returned. You have more raw talent, more potential, than any of them to defeat it, but you lack the discipline and the will.

Your heart wants to save the world, but your body is lazy. You don't understand the depth of the evil lurking out there, waiting to destroy you.

'And if you can't find a shudder over your own death and damnation, think of the people you love. Think of your friends, of your sister, of the children you look after. Do you have any idea what's in store for them if you fail, as I did? Nay, you do not, because if you did you would be out there right now praying to get hold of this thing and drive your blade through it again and again and
again
—to taste its death on your hands and relish the joy of retribution for all the heinous things it has done over the millennia of its life!"

Rhapsody looked away; she could not bear to watch Oelendra rant. Deep within her a sense of calm descended, the feeling of peace that signaled imminent danger to her. But it was not Oelendra who threatened her, it was the panic that rose in her throat as she contemplated the task ahead of her.

'Do you know what befell your family, your friends, at this thing's hands? Do you know happened to Easton, Rhapsody?"

'No," Rhapsody whispered.

Oelendra's eyes cleared; it was as if the Singer's tone had brought her around.

"Be grateful;'twasn't pretty," she said in a calmer voice. "You have the chance to end it, Rhapsody, end the suffering for all time. You have a natural tie to the stars and to fire, and the aid of a Dhracian. You're one of the Three. It knows you're here, you realize. It has been waiting for you as long as I have. But if you're not ready it will catch you unaware, and what it will do to you and those you love will make death seem like a blessing. And then I may as well have handed the sword to it myself long ago."

Rhapsody took a deep breath, and willed herself to be calm. There was a desperation under Oelendra's obstreperous tone that touched her; deep within herself she felt it resonate, and she could identify the song. It was the sound of unspeakable pain, pain as she herself had felt upon coming to this land. Clearly the ancient warrior was not as much at peace with the Past as she had seemed at first.