The Song of Andiene (33 page)

The cliffside fell in that same motion, a roar more terrible than a sea storm, a cloud of dust more blinding than any summer storm. It slid slowly, so slowly that Ilbran could not understand how such a massive weight could hang on the edge of nothingness. It gathered weight and power and speed as it fell. Ilbran knelt and held his daughter close to him, and prayed. He stared at the raw wound on the mountainside, long after the last clatter of rocks had died away.

Then Andiene laughed, a sharp sound to break the dust-choked silence.

“Whoever travels these hills will have some clever climbing to do, even if he wears a gray cloak!” She turned. “Kare, I thank you.”

Ilbran let loose his grip on his daughter’s shoulders. She looked up at Andiene. “Did I … ” she began, then crumpled forward.

Ilbran was slower than he should have been, his eyes on Andiene. It was Kallan who lunged and caught at her on the very edge of the cliff, and dragged her back over the edge.

Some things happen too suddenly. Ilbran looked at his daughter, and at the drop, stepless and sheer down to the green treetops far below. “I owe you life once again,” he began, speaking to Kallan, then stopped, cut off by the unexplainable mockery in the other man’s eyes.

He turned to Andiene then. “You thanked her for what?” he asked, and his voice was filled with the pain of betrayal.

“She helped me,” Andiene said. “I did not ask her. I could not stop her. In any war, you take what aid is offered to you.”

Ilbran gathered his child into his arms. “Shall we go on?”

Kare lay lightly in his arms, as he carried her for many days. In the brief and burning days of aftersummer, they took shelter again among the rocks. The heat is less fierce in the mountains. They did not suffer much. Kare lay quietly and did not wake. Ilbran watched her in fear and dread.

Andiene looked backward often, as they traveled the mountain trails, but did not speak of what had happened. Though the new recruits from Oreja learned to be more easy in her presence, they still stood in awe of her. Kallan stayed with them, training them, matching them against himself and each other, teaching them to fear him, and to rejoice in the rare praise he gave them. At last they came to the end of the mountains, where the road turned and went west. Their path lay open to the city.

Ilbran stared down at the valleys of green blaggorn, lined and circled with thornfruit hedges, a green and growing land.

This was the edge of his own land, the land where he was born. Mareja, the kingdom of the sea. The sun was low in the west, blinding him, but he imagined he saw the sparkle of waves at the very edge of his vision.

Kare woke that evening, opening dark amazed eyes to stare at the reborn world. Ilbran wept, but later that night, he sang, while Lenane played on the lute she had taken from the palace.

She began with the songs of love; those he could sing most joyfully. Even the sad songs pleased him, perfect in their sadness. He sang the Lament of Tare, of love won and love lost.

The grain is mure, is rotten ripe,

The silver sand has run away.

I won my love but for a day,

Yet I shall never mourn.

Lenane played the ending, the melody echoing, dying away, the strings speaking as movingly as a human voice. Then she laughed and turned to songs of magic, songs of war and heroism; they stuck in Ilbran’s throat.

But Tarilis, a tall swordsman, one of Kallan’s crew, took up the song when Ilbran stopped, and the others joined lustily. “Look at us,” Syresh cried. “A little band, so fair and free—a little band of brave ones.”

Andiene smiled to herself and juggled with stones, sending them spinning in fiery circles as she had done once in a king’s palace, careless of the fears of the ones who watched her. Ilbran could judge her mood from that. No memories troubled her. She had taken the child’s game for her own. But then he caught the look of strain on Kare’s face, and spoke sharply. “No!”

Andiene let the stones fall, quenching their witchfire in the cool earth. “I am sorry.”

Kare looked from one to the other in puzzlement. Andiene saw it, and there was a look of grief on her face for a moment, before she turned suddenly away. Her pack lay where she had unslung it. She opened it and pulled out the collar of lacework that she had knotted through the long summer. “Kare, this is for you. No, wash your hands before you touch it. You can wear it on your robe at your second naming.”

Kare ran to the stream, briskly scrubbed her hands with sand, and ran back to take the gift. She held it for a long time, before she folded it and wrapped it in her clean tunic, in the pack she carried.

“Why did you choose this time to give her such a royal gift?” Ilbran asked Andiene later, as they climbed up the slope to find privacy among the cool and tumbled stones.

“I do not know. I was ashamed. I have been thoughtless. Your reprimand, she thought it was meant for her. I wanted to do something that would please her.”

They had reached their destination, a great scattering of stones. Close to a city or village, it would be a place of the dead, but in the quiet mountains, it was put to no such use. The stones were cushioned with thick moss, sweet-smelling when it was touched, like the spices of the south. After a while, Ilbran spoke again of his heart’s desire.

“You could let your plan go, and come with me, traveling north or south, to some land where the king’s men would not know you. Enough silver-haired women live in the north, so I have heard, that you would be lost like a speck of dust in a summer storm. All this time that we have traveled together, you have lived without power and luxury, and found pleasure in simple things. And all you have seen is the hardness of life, forced traveling, traveling wounded, or in foul weather. Truly, it is not always like that. We could find great joy.”

She let him have his say, every word of it, till he had run out of unaccustomed eloquence. Then she gave her answer. “No.”

The word fell into the silence like a stone. The silence stretched on, until she hurried into speech again, more heated, more eager to convince.

“You ought to be with me; you have your own people to avenge. I have my revenge, my kingdom to win, and I tell you, I can sense Nahil’s fear. The smell of it has filled this land and spills over the borders. The thought of me has harried him till he would never let me escape. You cannot run between two duelists and try to separate them, once battle is joined.”

Ilbran reached out and stroked her silver hair, gleaming in the starlight. He had not expected another answer, but still he was grieved. “What is your battle plan? We are still few, even with Kallan’s men. Nahil can send a thousand to meet you on the open plain.”

Andiene laughed. “That is what I intend. That he will send his thousand, all that he can command, and see them scattered to the ends of the earth, so his city lies defenseless and he has no place to hide!”

Then she spoke more gently, and told Ilbran all her plan, as she had told it to Kallan, speaking proudly and confidently.

Ilbran caught his breath in horror. “You cannot mean it. How many will die? These are your own people.”

“Not many will die, and only those that serve the usurper.”

“Ones will die that did not serve willingly. I might be among them, if my life had not been driven astray from its course, when I found you.”

For the first time, he had reminded her of the debt she owed him. It angered her.

“I might have lived without your aid,” she said, and her voice was hard. “I had another one to guard me and to guide me. But I will be bound this much by the debt of gratitude. Show me a gentler path to my kingdom, and I will take it.”

Ilbran shook his head helplessly. “I can think of none. But what of my child? Where is her place in your plans? Does she join in the slaughter?”

“No! You brought this about. I had another plan, a gentle one. With Kare to help me, I could have wrought so that none died but one—you know which one.”

“Have you forgotten already what happens when she joins with you? I thought she would die.”

“It was the same with me,” Andiene said confidently. “She has not been trained. I can teach her to bear her power.”

“You will not!” Ilbran exclaimed. “I want her to forget her past, what she has done. I want you to teach her nothing.”

Andiene’s voice sharpened, though they spoke in whispers so the sound would not carry to the camp below.

“Even her mother taught her good things, the herb-lore that she used to heal you.”

That blow struck near the heart. Ilbran had to force himself to speak calmly. “You do not know what you are saying. Her mother broke the Law, delved deep in the earth to bury the men she destroyed. She taught her child and filled her with knowledge in the same way that the butcher fattens a calf for the slaughter.”

Even in the dim light, he could see the color leave her face. “No! I did not realize … Very well then, you are her father. She can stand apart from the battle. Lenane will have no part of it either. You can be with them if you wish.”

Ilbran saw himself waiting in safety like another girl-child, while she went into battle. It was an unbearable picture. “I will fight for you, not hide coward-like and ashamed!” he exclaimed.

Andiene gave a little laugh, and spoke more gently. Harsh words had been said, but none that could not be forgotten. And on that autumn night, they found it easy to forgive.

But the battle plan ran through Ilbran’s mind—to use magic and fear to destroy the greatest army that a king could muster. When he slept, he dreamed of it. He walked through a wide valley, abloom with rusty flowers. Dead men lay in it, too many to carry to their rightful resting places.

Though it was a dream-country, it had bright colors, the texture and scent of reality about it. From across the fields came Ilbran’s comrades. Kallan’s eyes were bright with pride as he surveyed the morning’s work. Syresh was more pale and grim, but full of pride also. The others, the newcomers, straggled after them, Sireles, Eliad, Mikel brown, and all the others. Though blood marked their skin and clothes, they lived, all of them. They lived and were strong. Their laughter shook the far-off mountains. Only Andiene and Ilbran joined hands and wept, as he cast aside his bloody sword.

At last they rose, and walked up the hill, silent in victory, to where Lenane and Kare waited for them. But Lenane came to them sobbing, and Ilbran’s heart grew chill as death. Kare lay on the crest of the hill, between the dragon’s paws.

Dead beyond the shadow of a doubt. Even from a distance, that was dream-clear. Ilbran ran to her. Dead and diminished she lay, next to that gray-scaled massiveness. A scrap of nothingness, as fragile as the empty robes of the grizane.

Then he woke.

When he rose from Andiene’s side, she turned and flung out her arm, but did not wake. Fragments of Lenane’s songs drifted through his mind.

My love, you sleep too sound.

She breathed softly and easily. Her head was turned so he could not see her face.
Will you not waken and turn to me?

No, he could not bear it, and it would not change his mind or turn him one hairbreadth from his purpose. No farewells.
Has she ever before been betrayed by one she loves?

He stooped and drew the cloak up to cover her.
Will you not waken and turn to me?

The stars were bright. He walked softly down the hill, and quartered the slope till he found where his child lay asleep. He knelt to touch her warm cheek, listen to her breathing, a comforting sound.

His mind was clearer than it had ever been. A wise man will know when he is granted a prophetic dream. Kare, for all her gentleness, had grown willful. When Andiene worked magic, then she would join. He could not stop her. Andiene could not or would not stop her.

And what would come of it? Every time, she had lain balanced on the knife-edge of death. This time, the balance would tip too far.

The stars gave enough light for traveling. He carried his child at first, and when she woke, he led her. They traveled slowly, for he still bore the mark of the grievers. When Kare questioned him, he answered her sharply, which silenced her, unused to harsh words.

Sometime after sunrise, he turned to look behind him, and saw the flash of light from undulled metal. He shaded his eyes against the sun. A silver head and metal shirt meant only one man, and so Ilbran told his child to walk on ahead, and waited for Kallan to overtake him.

They faced each other in silence, wary as they had been at their first meeting.

“Where are you going?”

“Anywhere. Am I a slave to be hunted down?”

“Not good enough,” Kallan said, staring at him in bewildered anger. “I could bring you back alive or dead.”

“Kill me before my child? I thought you killed the children first?”

The other man’s face hardened even more. “A coward’s taunt. If you believed what you say, you would not dare to say it. Are you mad?”

“Not mad, but sane at last.”

“Then take your hand off your sword hilt, and explain.”

Ilbran glanced down and laughed shortly. “I did not realize. Little good would it do me.” He struggled to find words to explain. “I dreamed again. If I had not trusted my dreams, I would be dead now, with a lindel tree setting its roots into my rotten flesh.”

“What did you dream, that made you run from us like a coward thief?”

Ilbran spoke, paring the bright and bloody vision down to cold words.

Kallan listened gravely. “So you have had two prophetic dreams. Perhaps you will have a third someday.”

“I pray I never do.”

“The forest may have left its mark on you. Living in such a place can warp men in strange ways.”

Ilbran shuddered.

“What need was there to flee from us?” Kallan asked. “When it comes time for battle, you can stay a good day’s journey behind and guard your daughter. We would not count it cowardice. Who could deny that you would be little enough use in a battle?”

“Can I guard her forever? With every gesture and breath of magic, Kare strains to join it. Though I could shield her from one battle, there would be other times, other wars. Andiene loves her power. She plays with it as Lenane plays her lute. I want no part of it, no part of any of it! Has she told you what she plans?” Kallan nodded.