|
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
bones so very like a Cheysuli's, if housed in fairer flesh.
Bile rose in my throat. It was all I could do to swallow it back. "So," I said
aloud, "you win after all.
No prince of a royal House will take to wife a de-
spoiled woman. Even without the child . . . virginity is a necessity, and I no
longer suit."
Strahan made no answer. If he could, he would have laughed.
I looked down at myself, at scraped and muddy arms, at torn and soiled
nightshift. I could hardly go to Hondarth in such a disreputable state, or I
would be rudely received, dismissed as a beggar-girl, or worse. I had no coin,
nor a pouch to carry it in. All I
had was the lir-gold, and that I would not spend.
I looked again at the body, sprawled outside the chapel. And in the end,
ironically, it was Strahan who served me. He wore no belt-purse, providing me
with no coin, but he did wear silver on brow and hips and a soft wool robe
over leathers, even wet and muddy. It was better than what I had.
I looked grimly at the body, "Leijhana tu'sai,"
I
muttered, and bent to strip the robe from him.
It took all my strength, all my control to make myself touch him, to touch the
body that had, in
living flesh, stolen mind and will and self.
I worked in haste, unfastening the belt, bending arms still flexible. And then
I touched a hand and felt the last vestige of warmth in his flesh.
Fear stung tender breasts.
Is he alive after all?
I bit my lip to keep from vomiting, from surrendering my purpose. If I did not
complete the task he would have a final victory, even after death.
Like a nightmare, it faded slowly:
No, of course he is not.
And I tugged the belt free at last.
With Finn's knife I cut the hem shorter and also the belt, tying the extra
silver bosses into a corner of the robe. The touch of his clothing swaddling
my body wracked me briefly with revulsion, but I set it all aside to think of
escape instead. Now I was clothed enough to go into the city. Now I had enough
silver to buy me food, drink, rest, and herbs to loosen the child.
But even for its value, I could not touch the rune-
wrought circlet. It rested against his brow, tangled in fallen hair; a crown
for the Seker's heir. I wanted none of it. His minions could have it back; or
the skeleton itself.
In the chapel again, I knelt briefly at the altar. Not in the name of gods,
but in the name of my long-
dead kinsman. I held the knife and lir-gold to my breast, cradling
deliverance, and in of d Tongue and
Homanan thanked him for intercession.
"Kinsman, I honor you for your care. But Carillon gave you this knife when you
Page 144
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
swore yourself to his service, and I will not take it from you. Not after all
these years."
Next, the lir-gold, glinting dully in thin moonlight.
I passed my thumb over the image of the wolf, smiling a little. "I am a woman,
and therefore have no lir.
But I honor yours, knowing who he was, and give him back to you. Storr's name
will be remembered."
I tucked the earring and armbands into shadow
beside the knife, pressing all into the mud. Scraped debris over the glint,
then packed it down to form a seal. It was not my place to determine if the
weapon and lir-gold should ever be found again, or used. My place only to
return it, to let Finn make the decision for another Cheysuli in need.
I turned to go, but halted. Knelt there still on leaves and mold and mud,
staring at my hands. At the scrapes and cuts and grime.
Strahan's blood was gone; I had wiped it from my body. But my own remained, a
little, in a cut, a scrape, a welt. Red, watery blood, no longer thick and
black. Red as the robe I wore, and without the sorcerer's taint.
For a long moment all I could do was stare blindly at my arms. And then I
recalled my lip, my swollen, bitten lip, and bit into it again.
Blood welled. I tasted the salt-copper tang. Rolled it across my tongue and
then lifted the back of my hand to my mouth. Pressed it against my lip and
stared at the result.
"Red," I said intently, and then laughed out loud for the joy of it, to know
myself set free.
At once I reached for &r-shape, summoning the magic. It came instantly, and
powerfully, spilling into my weakness and making me strong again. It stripped
away the exhaustion, the grief, the lassitude of long imprisonment, and gave
me back my life again, replenishing me with my magic.
Strahan's power was banished. In its place was my own. "A hawk," I said
intently, "not a linnet or a sparrow. A fierce Homanan hunting hawk, whose
freedom is the skies."
It came with a rush, like a river in full spate. It washed over me, sucked me
down, tumbled me against rocks. There was no kindness in it, no soft welcome
or gentle comfort. Power knows nothing of flesh, only the blood that summons
it.
drowning
I gasped, sucked air, tried to breathe again. Felt the shift in muscle and
viscera, the shrinking of my flesh, then the twisting of the bones. Power was
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
zanotowane.pldoc.pisz.plpdf.pisz.plmew.pev.pl
|