The earth subsided. Charioteers and their drivers slumped the bottom of their vehicles. Friend and foe alike relaxed, eyes closing, heads nodding. Swords and spears fell to the earth, and in the air, the three queens sighed their way into slumber. The third Chord, the Chord of Sleep, wafted over the field like a soft breeze, but everything it touched, man or woman, animal or mineral, heeded its siren song. Except for one.
Elhonna faced Cricket across a sea of snoring bodies. “So it’s down to you and me,” she said.
“Just like it started,” he replied.
“How poetic.” She drew a sword. “But I still may fight.”
“Put it away, Elhonna,” Cricket said calmly. “The war is over.”
“Is it? You may have contained my power for the moment, but I could still tear this country apart.”
“You wouldn’t dare.”
“And why not?” A sly smile spread across her face. “There is another choice, however.”
“Same as before?” Cricket asked. “A place at your side, as your slave?”
“As my consort,” she said, slightly irritated.
“I have seen how you treat your consort.”
“Then as high king, ruling equally with me.”
“No, Elhonna,” Cricket said gently. “You do not know how to share anything equally.”
“Then I will destroy everything.”
“No, you will not.” He played a new chord, stripping her magic and binding her arms to her side.
“You can’t do this!” she cried.
“Yes I can.” Making sure the magic was secure, he stilled the strings of his harp with the flat of his hand, and drew himself up to his full height. “Elhonna, queen of Glencairck, I now pronounce the judgement of the bards upon your head: you have betrayed the land and your subjects, abusing your powers for personal gain, and waging war without due cause. The sentence is death.”
“And who’s going to carry it out?” she sneered. “You? I don’t think you could ever raise a hand to me.”
Cricket shrugged. “You’re probably right. So in the interest of mercy, I banish you from Glencairck now and for all time.”
“You’re a fool. What makes you think I won’t raise an army and return to destroy whatever puppet you put on the throne?”
Cricket smiled grimly and began to play. “Because I did not tell you where I was going to banish you.” He formed the bridge, holding a picture in his mind of a suitable world. Gathering the queen magically, he said, “It’s time to go.” The pale shifted, and they faded from sight.
Chapter 31: Epilogue
Cricket returned to find Mannath and Kai directing the clean up efforts. The wounded had been moved to one side, and the dead were being gathered together in a pile. He stood next to them for a few minutes before they noticed him. “By the gods!” Mannath exclaimed. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I’m going to have nightmares enough about this day as it is.”
“Where’s Elhonna?” Kai asked.
“A very long way from here,” Cricket answered.
“She can’t cause anymore trouble, can she?”
“She has no power, and she is all alone in a very large world. With a bunch of pigs.”
“You did that to her?” Mannath said. “I think death would have been better.”
Cricket looked at the man he had sworn to serve. “I couldn’t kill her, and she knew it. But I had to do something, and I remembered that she had told me once that it would be nice to be a pig-herder for a while.”
Kai nodded. “The justice of the bards. Remind me not to make you angry.”
Cricket tried to smile, but the smell of death hung too thick in the air. “Did anyone find Ewan?”
“I did.”
Cricket stood to find Serca behind him. Heedless of the blood and soot that covered her, he swept her into a hug. “I thought you were dead.”
“I almost feel like it,” she said, brushing the hair out of her face. “I may never sing about the glory of war again.”
“I know what you mean. But what about the Pen Bardd?”
“He—and whatever spirit possessed him—are dead. Those of us that survived tracked him down.” She shuddered. “It wasn’t pretty.”
“I have to know,” Cricket said.
“He had put his head through the strings of his harp, and then drowned in the bogs east of here.” She closed her eyes against the memory. “He barely looked human anymore.”
Cricket let out a sigh and hugged her tight again. “He stopped being human the moment he killed with his magic.” He looked at Kai. “Tell me: how many did we lose?”
“Thousands,” the chieftain said simply.
“Rhys, and Dairmid,” Mannath added. “Brother Eochaid, Golias, Asaph, Laird Iolu and Emerain.”
“Almost half of our bards, plus most of the ollam,” Serca said.
“Brigit?”
“She’s fine. She went back to Faerie.”
“Asael?”
Kai shook his head. “I don’t think he’ll make it.”
Swallowing his heart, Cricket said, “Show me.”
They took him down the lines of men and women laid out in the most comfortable positions possible. The man that they pointed out to Cricket didn’t look like the red-headed fiddler he knew, but the face under all the blood smiled at him. “Knew I’d see you again,” Asael croaked.
“I—” Cricket sat next to him and took his hand. “Is there anything I can do?”
“Would you play ‘The Maiden’s First Kiss’? Our version?”
“Of course.” Cricket touched the silver strings with his silver fingers, drawing forth the opening chord.
“That’s good,” Asael said with a sigh. His eyes closed, and his breathing slowed.
Cricket continued to play, the tears streaming down his face. “It’s not fair,” he whispered.
“Then do something about it.”
He looked up at the harmonized voices to see the three queens standing over him. Everyone else had frozen, including an engorged carrion crow flapping in mid-air. “Me?” he asked. “What about you?”
“We are forbidden,” they said, and he was surprised to see that they were crying.
“But what am I supposed to do, great ladies?” he said. “I have no power over life and death.”
“You have the power of the bards,” they said. “You must use it.”
“But how?”
“Think of the sheep.”
Cricket tried to imagine blessing the men and women lying all around him the way he did the sheep. His sight shifted so that he could see the glow that each person radiated, but the number of faint and sickly auras overwhelmed him. “I can’t,” he said. “I don’t have the strength anymore.”
“Yes, you do.” They touched him with their wands and began to fade.
Movement returned to those around him, and Cricket felt better than he had all day. Looking up at Mannath, he said, “Find Brother Aled. I’m going to need his help.” He turned to Serca. “Gather all the bards you can. This is something everyone needs to learn.”
Two weeks later, Cricket and Essa stood with Leann and Asael on a balcony overlooking the central courtyard of the palace at Taris. The fiddler still had to use a cane, but otherwise was back to normal. “I’ll bet it’s Kai,” he said.
“Maybe, maybe not,” Cricket replied. They were watching the long line of people, mostly nobles, but with a few commoners, who were waiting to stand on the Lia Fial. Elhonna never had proclaimed an heir, and instead of risking another war, Cricket had come up with the idea of letting anyone who wanted to have a chance to try the sovereign stone. Everyone seemed eager to do what he said, which made him nervous.
“Where is our favorite chieftain?” Essa asked.
“Back there, with Patkirk and Maeve,” Asael answered.
Cricket looked at the tall man, looking so much older and more confident than when they played at his wedding. “Do you remember the way that Lord Elnsbruck danced?”
Asael looked at his wife. “We remember.”
“So much loss,” she said.
“But enough of that,” Asael said. “What are you going to do about the Academy?”
Cricket rolled his eyes. “Did you have to remind me?”
“You are the Pen Bardd now.”
“He’s still adjusting,” Essa said. “He thinks it should go to someone—preferably anyone—else.”
“I’m just tired of everyone treating me like something special,” Cricket explained.
“Maybe you’ll remember that next time before you save the country,” Asael smirked.
“Enough, dear heart,” Leann said. “Just tell us what you’re planning, Cricket.”
“Well...”
“He’s moving the Academy out of Taris,” Essa said.
“Hey! They wanted me to tell them!”
“Well, you were taking too long.”
He hugged her tightly, and said, “She’s right. I think that we’re going to go back to the old way of doing things.”
“What is the old way?” Leann asked.
“Candidates will come to me,” he explained. “I will judge them, and assign them to the ollave I think will help that person most. But we will all be available, and nobody will be turned away for any reason except lack of talent.”
“He’s doing away with walls, too,” Essa said. “It’s going to be outside unless the weather is bad.”
“Sounds good,” Asael said slowly. “Different, but good.”
“You are both welcome to come,” Cricket said.
“Perhaps we will,” Leann said. “If we can get away from Caer Coll.”
“I think I can talk to Patkirk for you. If you want.” Cricket grimaced. “People seem to listen to me for some reason these days.”
“Hey, look!” Asael said. “Kai’s up next!”
The chieftain took a deep breath and stepped up onto the rough, rounded surface of the Lia Fial. Cricket saw a jeweled sword wrapped in a garland of stars rise up in front of him, but nobody else seemed to notice. The stone stayed silent, and Asael let out a dejected sigh. “I thought for sure he would be the one.”
“My love?” Essa asked, looking at her husband. “What do you see?”
“I’m not sure,” he said, shaking his head. “Kai still has something special ahead of him, though.”
Kai, a bemused look on his face, looked up at Cricket. After a moment, both men nodded, and the chieftain stepped down.
“Well, that’s all I wanted to see,” Asael said. Turning to his wife, he made a sweeping bow. “Come, my dear, let us—”
A wail began, spreading through the courtyard and out into the city, rising in volume until the walls shook. Hands over their ears, the two couples turned back to see who had been chosen. From his position on top of the sovereign stone, Patkirk, Lord Elnsbruck, looked as surprised as everyone else.
About The Author
Michael A. Hooten, a native Texan, first discovered fantasy with a box set of The Chronicles of Narnia (the picture of the Dawn Treader on the side intrigued him). His next big influence was The Chronicles of Prydain, with their rich Welsh heritage. But he was neither an English school child during the War, nor an Assistant Pig-Keeper, so he made his own, more mundane, adventures. He moved to Florida for college, dropped out and joined the Navy, and married a Yankee (from New York City!). Together they survived a six year naval career that took them to Illinois, then Virginia, and finally back to Florida. He left the service and crossed the nation to Utah, where they still live with three rambunctious sons and never ending clutter. He works as an electronic engineer, mostly designing electronics that test other electronics. He has been writing almost since he finished that first box set, although these days it usually late at night or during his lunch breaks.
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