“But it wasn’t true.” It was a statement not a question. Elspeth had the strange feeling she knew every word Rising Star was going to say.
“No, it wasn’t true, but no one would listen to her.” Raising Star’s brow wrinkled thoughtfully. “I’ve often wondered how she could bear it. I don’t know if I could have borne it in her place.”
“She had pride. She was the clairana.”
Rising Star nodded. “Yes, that must have helped, I suppose. But when she saw the last vision, the disbelief of the priests must have driven her mad.”
The last vision. The holy flames burning in the temple. The scented incense pouring slowly from her hand into the fire, causing blue sparks to fly, the flame to reveal its truth. Slowly Elspeth’s eyes closed and Rising Star’s words swept over her, painting pictures, lighting corners long darkened by time. She felt as if she could actually see the young clairana, her dark hair straight and flowing to her waist, as she stared into the flames.
“Kantalan is situated in a valley surrounded by mountains. The highest mountain was known as the Sun Child, a volcano. The people of the city became accustomed to the rumbling of its voice and the quaking of the earth. The Sun Child was Ra’s child and they looked upon it with affection. The vision the clairana saw concerned the volcano. The Sun Child was going to spew out great billows of black smoke, poisonous smoke that would cover the entire valley and kill every living thing. Sayan went to the priests and begged them to send everyone away, to vacate Kantalan until the danger was over.”
“They laughed at her.” Elspeth could almost see them, their expressions scornful, their shaved heads adding to the ascetic sternness of their appearance. “They thought she was just trying to regain her status in the city. They called her a whore and sent her away.”
“Yes.” Rising Star’s voice held a note of surprise. “Yes, they did. She decided to stay and accept the same fate as her people, but she sent her servant, Cadra, away to the north.”
“And she died when Kantalan died, when Dalkar died.”
“Dalkar?” Rising Star’s voice was puzzled.
“Her lover.” Elspeth’s lids lifted heavily, dreamily. It was a moment before she could bring herself back from the ancient world that had seemed so real. “You told me his name was Dalkar.”
“Did I?” Rising Star was staring at her uneasily. “I suppose I had to have told you. It must have slipped my mind.” She rose to her feet and, for a fraction of a moment, she seemed flustered. Then, quite suddenly her serenity returned. “I believe I’ve given you enough to think about for the present. We’ll talk again later.” She crossed the room swiftly. “It’s only an hour until dinner. I’ll send Silver to help you dress.”
“Wait,” Elspeth called desperately. “You didn’t tell me about the prophecy.”
Rising Star paused, her hand on the doorknob. The muscles of her back were taut and at first Elspeth thought she wasn’t going to answer. Then she slowly turned to face Elspeth and smiled with an effort. “I was running away. You’ll find I’m not a very courageous person. After all these years you’d think I’d be accustomed to the idea of—” She moistened her lips. “Sayan saw something else in the flames. She told Cadra that for centuries Kantalan would remain deserted, as if frozen in time. Then four people would once again walk its streets. When that day came, the Sun Child would tremble once more, fire would rain down, and Kantalan would be destroyed, disappearing from the face of the earth as if it had never existed.” She paused. “Four would come to Kantalan and four would return from whence they came. Yet two would die when Kantalan died.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Is it some kind of riddle?”
Rising Star shrugged. “If it is, I don’t have the answer.”
“Do you believe it?”
Rising Star hesitated and then smiled sadly. “Sometimes I believe it. I’ve been taught there is a destiny for each one of us. What else can you expect from a superstitious savage?”
Elspeth could hear the echo of Silver’s bitterness in Rising Star’s words and experienced a pang of sympathy, “You think there is danger in Kantalan?”
Rising Star rubbed her temple wearily. “Oh, I don’t know. There is danger everywhere. You must make the decision for yourself. If you still wish to go, I will draw you a map from the one White Buffalo gave me.”
“Thank you, I would appreciate that very much,” Elspeth said haltingly. She should be wildly happy, but it was difficult to throw off the chill that had struck her when Rising Star had told her of the prophecy. “Was Dominic given a map also?”
Rising Star’s brows rose in surprise. “Of course. White Buffalo was a spirit man. He knew Dominic was one of the four who would walk the streets of Kantalan.”
Elspeth’s eyes widened. “Does that mean you—?”
Rising Star’s lips twisted. “Oh, yes, from the moment of my birth White Buffalo knew that my destiny was to be fulfilled in Kantalan.” She turned and opened the door. “And now there are three of us and only one more to come. The pattern is beginning to form.” She glanced back over her shoulder. “Dominic has never known whether to believe the prophecy or not, but he has enough of his mother’s Celtic mysticism to make him wary and enough of his father’s cynicism to make it easy to ignore Kantalan’s existence. Until now. You’re forcing him to think of it again. Are you sure you want to do that?”
Elspeth shook her head. “I told him I didn’t want him to go. It would be terrible to be responsible for—” She ran shaking fingers through her hair. “It’s too wild and terrible to be true, legends become distorted and twisted through time. The prophecy could be nothing more than superstitious nonsense. I have to think.”
Rising Star nodded. “Yes, we all need to think. White men believe we do have choices. Perhaps White Buffalo was only a foolish old man. None of us have to go to Kantalan.” She smiled. “Do we?”
“No,” Elspeth whispered. But if she didn’t go, she would never see streets of matchless beauty, temples and pyramids of faultless symmetry, the Sun Child ribboned with glistening snow. “None of us have to go.”
Rising Star’s eyes were both sad and understanding as she gazed at Elspeth’s wistful expression. “I won’t see you at dinner. I prefer to have my meals in my room when Joshua isn’t here. If you decide you want the map, let me know. But it would be no sin to wait a few days and consider the possiblities, would it?”
She didn’t wait for an answer. The door closed softly behind her.
“You are very silent.” Silver ran the silver-backed brush through Elspeth’s hair with long, slow strokes. “Did my aunt’s words disturb you?”
“Yes.” Disturb seemed too mild a word to describe the turmoil she was experiencing. “Rising Star certainly gave me a few things to consider.”
“I did not know she knew of Kantalan or I would have told you.” Silver’s gaze met Elspeth’s in the mirror of the black lacquered vanity. “I will go with you if you like. There is nothing for me here.” She smiled bitterly. “There is nothing for me anywhere that I do not take for myself. Who knows? Perhaps I will find something different in your lost city.”
Elspeth felt a surge of warm affection. “Oh, Silver, I would like that very—” She stopped. Even if Sayan’s prophecy were mere legend as she was trying to believe, the journey itself might be very dangerous. She had already taken too much from Silver without giving anything in return. Friendship was new to her, but surely this was not as it should be. Even now Silver was treating her as if she were her handmaiden. She had bathed her and was now brushing her hair. And Elspeth was sitting here in her petticoats, almost purring with contentment and behaving as if this cosseting were her due. She reached out and took the brush from Silver’s hand. “We will see. In the meantime, there is no need for you to treat me as an invalid. I’m almost well.”
Silver’s eyes widened. “It is no bother.” She stood watching uncertainly as Elspeth began to run the brush vigorously through her hair, her expression reflecti
ng a flicker of disappointment. “You are still weak. I am not sure you should go down to dinner.”
“You’ve spoiled me far too long.” Elspeth wrinkled her nose at her image in the mirror. “And I’ve allowed it far too long. It’s time I took charge of myself.”
Silver frowned and started for the armoire across the room. “I’ll get your gown. I had Rosa press it while you slept.” She took out the black silk gown with the grosgrain trim and carried it back to Elspeth. “Though there was little that could be done with it. It is ugly. Everything I found in your trunk was ugly, except for that fine red blanket.”
“That’s not a blanket. That’s a MacGregor plaid, my family’s tartan.”
Silver shrugged. “Well, it is finer than anything else you own. Why is everything you wear black? You always look like a baby vulture.”
“It’s the custom. I’m in mourning for my father.” Elspeth turned to look at the gown over Silver’s arm. “It’s only proper that I wear black.”
Silver shook her head in wonder. “I have heard you scream and weep dreaming of this man. You do not mourn him. Why do you lie?”
“Of course I mourn him. He was my father.” Elspeth stopped. Lies. Silver was right. When her father had died she had felt only relief and a poignant regret for the love that might have existed between them. Dear God, surely such an attitude must make her a wicked and ungrateful daughter. One must love and honor one’s father. Her hand holding the brush dropped to her side as she stared blindly into the mirror. But she had not honored him. She had respected him for his truly superior intelligence, but there had been no honor and no love. Had the guilt of that realization made her cling to the trappings of tradition since she could not mourn him in her heart? Had she been deceiving herself about her honesty as she had about her strength? “You’re very wise, Silver. I do not mourn him.”
Silver grinned and tossed the gown carelessly on the bed. “Then you do not need this ugly dress any longer. We will find you something bright to wear that will make you want to sing like a lark.”
Elspeth chuckled. “I certainly would prefer to be a lark instead of a vulture, but I’m afraid I’ll have to wait until I return to Edinburgh. I have nothing but black clothing with me.”
“I will ask Rising Star to lend you something pretty to wear.” Silver had already reached the door. “She cannot wear her fine gowns since she has grown big with child. Put up your hair. I will be back.”
She was gone, leaving Elspeth gazing blankly after her. As usual, Silver had taken matters into her own hands and Elspeth was moving along in her wake. Perhaps she should go after her and insist upon wearing her own clothing, as she certainly didn’t wish to impose on Rising Star. As Elspeth started to get up, she glimpsed the black silk gown on the bed and suddenly realized that she hated the idea of wearing that drab gown. Its ugliness was not only in its color and clumsy fashioning but also in its reminder of her lack of courage during these past months. She deliberately sat back down on the stool and began to put her hair in its usual neat bun on top of her head.
The gown Silver borrowed was of white gauze with lace trim, demure, modest, and the most beautiful garment Elspeth had ever seen. The long tight sleeves and bodice fit her to perfection after Silver had pinned it at the waist. The lace trimming at the high neckline required no other ornamentation and made her neck appear long and queenly. The belled skirt drifted about her gracefully as she whirled to see herself in the cheval mirror. “I look so different.”
Silver nodded with satisfaction. “An upside-down lily.”
Elspeth laughed. She couldn’t ever remember feeling this amazingly young and lighthearted.
“It could be better. I forgot that Rising Star does not wear colors. She does not like to displease the old woman, who thinks bright colors are not ladylike.”
Elspeth looked at her in surprise. The violet gown Malvina had worn this morning had not been in the least restrained. “But Malvina wore—”
“I know.” Silver’s lips curved in a sardonic smile. “But the old woman is not Indian. Rising Star must be more careful.”
“Your grandmother insists Rising Star be more circumspect in her dress than she is herself?”
“No,” Silver admitted grudgingly. “She never says a word of reproof to my aunt. Rising Star is a Delaney, and though the old woman has no love for her, she treats her with honor and fairness. Rising Star has a great thirst for learning and the old woman respects her for that too.” She turned away. “It is time to go downstairs; the old man likes his meals on time.”
“Aren’t you going to change?”
Silver looked down at the calico skirt, elkskin tunic, and beaded moccasins she was wearing. “Why? I am clean and my hair is combed. If they are not happy with me, then the old man can send me to the kitchen to eat with Rosa and Ricardo.” There was a glint of furtive excitement in her eyes and her golden cheeks were flushed with color. “Shall we go see if he will do it?”
Silver actually hoped Shamus would respond to her rebelliousness, Elspeth realized with trepidation. She was obviously aching, burning, to be challenged. “You always look lovely.” Elspeth frowned. “I’m sure it will be all right.”
“We will see.” Silver took Elspeth’s arm with a gesture that held both defiance and bravado. Then, as they started for the door, an object lying on the vanity caught Silver’s notice. “You’ve forgotten your spectacles. Shall I get them for you?”
Elspeth glanced back over her shoulder. “No, I’ll get them.” She turned and took a step toward the vanity. She stopped, looking at the spectacles and remembering Dominic’s mocking words regarding them. Another self-deception? She hesitated. In a way this decision was more difficult than the one to cast off her mourning. She was nervous of the intimidating strangers she must meet tonight and the spectacles would have formed a protective barrier against them. The gold wire frames of the spectacles glinted enticingly, temptingly, in the lamplight. She drew a deep breath and forced herself to turn again toward the door. “No, I don’t believe I’ll wear them tonight. I don’t really need them.”
Shamus Delaney met them at the bottom of the steps. His smile was bold, warm, and held an impish charm that reminded Elspeth of his grandson, Patrick. “Ah, welcome, Miss MacGregor.” His deep brogue lilted pleasantly as he held out his hand. “It’s a good thing you decided to put in an appearance. I admit I was so eager to meet you, I was about to run upstairs and escort you down myself. I’m Shamus Delaney, and it’s a rare pleasure to have you here at Killara.”
“It’s very kind of you to let me stay.” Her small hand was immediately enveloped in his massive clasp. His palm was callused and his strong grip made no allowances for her femininity. “I’ll try not to trouble you any longer than necessary.”
“Nonsense. Malvina will be disappointed if you run off before she can really get to know you, and I’m determined you won’t leave us until you’ve seen all of Killara.” His piercing blue eyes twinkled. “I’m proud as a peacock of my ranch. We’ve got everything you could want here in the Arizona territory. Your Edinburgh can’t hold a candle to some of the sights I can show you.”
Elspeth found herself melting beneath the beaming warmth of the old man. Old? The term seemed wrong when applied to Shamus Delaney. Though he must have been in his seventies, he stood ramrod-straight, his thin, rangy body still as powerful as that of a man of forty. He was dressed in a black suit and vest, crisp white shirt and gray tie, and his full mane of stark white hair shone softly under the flickering light of the candles in the chandelier. That totally white hair should have made him look older, but instead the silky purity of color made his weathered brown face appear younger in contrast. “You have a right to be proud of Killara. Your home is lovely.”
He released her hand. “Malvina’s done a fine job of it, hasn’t she?” His voice was soft with affection and pride. “She reads all those fancy books and journals; she’s particularly fond of that Miss Beetle’s book on home management. She
says all the fine ladies read it.”
“I’m afraid I haven’t heard of it.” Elspeth found it hard to imagine Malvina Delaney poring over books and periodicals on homemaking. “But I’ve been in America for only a short time.”
“It probably hasn’t crossed over to the old country yet,” Shamus Delaney said cheerfully as he took her arm. “But you mark my words, it will soon. My Malvina swears by it. You should have seen the hair picture she made from the directions in Miss Beetle’s book.” He chuckled. “Brianne swore she was going to strip her bald before the dang thing was finished, but it turned out real pretty. Come along, Malvina is waiting in the parlor to give us a little music before dinner. It looks like we’ll have you to ourselves this evening. Dominic rode over to Shamrock this afternoon to see his brothers, and that wild granddaughter of mine hasn’t come home yet.” Shamus’s gaze suddenly narrowed on Elspeth’s face. “I hope you’re not disappointed that Dominic isn’t here. You two must have become very close friends lately.”
Elspeth felt a surge of relief at the knowledge that she would not have to confront Dominic tonight. Her emotions regarding him were so chaotic that she had no desire to face him immediately. Rising Star’s revelations and her own response to them must be absorbed before she was ready to speak to him again. “He has been very kind,” she said stiltedly. “But it’s always pleasant to get to know new people.”
He nodded slowly, his gaze still searching her own. “That’s true enough. You’ll enjoy the little concert Malvina is going to give us. She plays the piano very well; she taught herself.” The pride was again shining in his face. “There’s nothing Malvina can’t do once she sets her mind to it.” Then, as his glance fell on Silver watching in the shadows of the curve of the staircase, his smile faded. “You know Malvina doesn’t like to see you dressed in that heathen garb at her table, Silver. Go change.”
This Fierce Splendor: A Loveswept Classic Romance Page 18
