by Andre Norton
"I suppose that will be enough," Zazar said with a shrug.
"What about Weyse?" Ashen asked. "Can't she help you?"
"Look around. Weyse has already gone back to Galinth, but if need is urgent, I will call on her."
"Home?" Anamara said hopefully.
"Rydale is your home, not Galinth," Ashen said. "Yes, I will send you home."
"Home," the girl repeated, and said it yet again. "Home. Mama, home."
"Go to bed," Ashen told her. "You will leave in a few days. Zazar, I must have time to get her ready. She doesn't even have any clothing of her own—just those few rags she was wearing when she came here. Everything she is wearing is borrowed!"
"I suppose those of the nobility put great store by such things." Zazar took the girl by the shoulders and turned her toward the bed that lay waiting for her, though she looked back at Ashen with growing hope.
"Home? Mama?" she repeated.
"She will be a part of my household. She must be treated decently, even if I have no great regard or affection for her. And try to teach her a few more words by morning, if you please," Ashen told Zazar. "Before your own departure. You have the knack for it, and I don't."
At dawn the next morning, Ashen and Gaurin presided over a hearty, warm breakfast of thick gruel and broiled slabs of meat, served with diluted heated wine. The two travelers—for Rohan was also leaving, to return to
Rendelsham—-needed as much internal fuel as possible before they braved the chill outdoors. Also, Ashen had given orders that parcels of food be prepared, one for Rohan and one for the Wysen-wyf, to see them on their journeys. Those in the Great Hall sat at a small table screened away from the rest of the room, close by the hearth. A small fire, very different from the one that roared in the evenings, warmed the enclosure.
Rohan helped Anamara with her food, correcting the way she held her spoon and cutting her meat for her. "Must you send her away?" he asked.
"I have told you repeatedly, Rydale is the best place for her right now, with the tutors to teach her and help bring her back to herself," Ashen said. "With
Hegrin there already, it will only amount to their having two children in their care instead of one. Also, I promise, I will require frequent reports as to her progress, even as they keep me informed about Hegrin. As there is still some traffic between here and Rendelsham, it will be easy to send the information on to you."
"Would that I could go with her," Rohan said, taking the spoon away from Anamara and putting it back into her hand the right way, so that food would not spill out before she could get it to her mouth.
"You must return to the city," Gaurin said. "Know that, even as Ashen has given orders that she know of Hegrin and Anamara—so must I know how you fare, and
Cebastian with you. I have a feeling that the war we have anticipated for so many years is not far away now."
"Do not say it!" A.shen exclaimed. She almost knocked over her flagon of wine, but righted it before it could spill and stain the cloth. "With everything else that has happened of late, I could not bear it if you were called away. Worse it would be if both of you had to ride out to battle.'
Gaurin kissed her fingertips. "You will bear it, when it happens, for it most certainly will. On that day, you must take counsel of Madame Zazar, and she with you." He glanced at Zazar for confirmation, and the Wysen-wyf nodded. "I will feel better if you and she are together then, so that you can look after each other."
"Count on me," Zazar said around a mouthful of gruel. She helped herself to another cut of meat. "I have no real desire to stay alone, with war at our doorsteps. In all of Rendel there will be no place safe, but here at the
Oakenkeep is as secure as any other."
Gaurin lifted her brown old hand in turn and kissed it. "Thank you, Madame
Zazar. I will owe you a debt I can never repay."
"We're almost even. After all, you have had to put up with Ashen all these years," Zazar said tartly. "Not to mention Rohan."
Gaurin laughed, the sound echoing from the rafters of the nearly deserted Hall.
"You did better with Ashen than you think," he said, smiling, "i don't think you wanted to rear a foster daughter who was entirely without spirit."
To Ashen's suiprise the Wysen-wyf grinned in return, and she knew her husband and her protector shared a level of understanding and even humor that she would never, in all likelihood, achieve.
Delay matters as tüey would, the hour for departure arrived. Ashen climbed to the top of the westernmost tower, where she could observe the travelers and could determine what they were doing, even at a distance. The day had dawned bright and clear, though the freshening breeze was colder than she expected and she was glad to have her fur-lined cloak to wrap around her. She stood in what shelter there was to be had, gazing out over the snow-covered countryside.
Zazar, Rohan, and Gaurin all left the keep together, along with a company of soldiers, for it was not safe these days to go unescorted in Rendel. Despite the improvement in growing and maintaining food supplies, the country had more than its share of desperate, hungry people who would not scorn to waylay a lone traveler in hopes of improving their own meager lot.
The party split into different directions almost immediately. Zazar, on foot as usual, having scorned the offer of a horse to ride, turned west. A few soldiers turned from the main body, obviously intended as a guard for Zazar. Ashen could hear their voices, as the sound carried in the still morning air though she couldn't make out the words. However, from what she could hear in the sharp tone of Zazar's voice, it was equally obvious that this escort was scorned by her and was being sent on their way. They rode back to join their companions more eagerly than they had departed. Zazar, unafraid of any ruffians who might waylay her for the food she carried, cut across country, and Ashen knew her objective was the ford across the Barrier River. Thence she could reach the Bog easily enough. Ashen was grateful that she had, at least, dressed warmly.
Gaurin rode north with Rohan as far as the spot where the road forked. Then the two men waved and Gaurin turned back, to the Oakenkeep. Most of the soldiers turned back with him, but half a dozen traveled on with the young knight.
Ashen tasted bitterness in the back of her throat. Someday, she knew, Gaurin would ride north again, with an even larger company of men at his back, and he would not return to her, to safety. Struggling to hold back her tears, she returned to the warmth of their apartment, to await her husband's return. For a while, as they could, she would see to it that they found what comfort they might in each other's arms.
Twenty-four
To Ashen's surprise and annoyance, a summons came almost on the heels of Rohan's departure, that they must present themselves at Court, for the marriage of
Harous and Marcala and the attendant feast.
"We could have ridden with Rohan, and kept him company," she said with a tinge of bitterness in her voice.
"Or kept him safe?" Gaurin said, amused. "These things happen as they will, my dear. They have bidden us be there, and so go we shall, tomorrow, or the next day at the latest. I daresay it will be less wearing an occasion than that of the Grand Tourney."
"I had planned on sending Anamara to Rydale, once we were not preoccupied with
Rohan's departure. My women are not nearly finished with the sewing, and need another week at least. Also, I wanted to make sure Zazar returned safely to the
Bog."
"Who in all of Rendel would dare cross Madame Zazar?" Gaurin said, the corners of his eyes crinkling with amusement. "Don't worry, my dear. This is a minor annoyance at most. You can leave detailed orders about Lady Anamara's relocation, and even though Ayfare won't be here to carry them out, she has people trained by now. All will be accomplished while we are away. You do not have to stay and bid her good-bye."
And so, Ashen swallowed her complaints and prepared for the journey. Actually, she did have business there, returning a parcel of books to Esander, the kind and generous priest at t
he Great Fane of the Shining. She had taken these away after the tourney, and hoped to find more with which to occupy herself once she and Gaurin returned home—where, she hoped vehemently, they could stay put for a good long while. As a wedding gift, she selected a silver-gilt box in which to keep face powder and two matching bottles for scent, the sort of useless ornaments Marcala might like.
In Rendelsham, all was brightness and gaiety. It was as if there were no blight of winter on the land, only an unexpectedly long cold season. This came as a surprise to Ashen, and she remarked on it.
"People must have their occasional amusements," Gaurin told her, "or they will turn to brooding and mischief. It is good to see happiness for a change, and no sign of nobles at odds with each other."
Indeed, the city seemed well off as Ashen could scarcely remember it, back in the days when she had first come to Cragden Keep, and thence to Rendelsham
Castle. The townspeople as a group were, perhaps, not as plump as she remembered, but they were clean and well dressed in warm clothing, and their spirits seemed high. Also, there were vendors on every comer selling food and drink, and mementos of the approaching occasion. They lined the approach to the castle and Ashen and Gaurin had to pass through a veritable gauntlet of them just to get to the entrance.
"Thought the Marshal would never get around to it," one such told Ashen when she stopped to examine a tray of gaudy trinkets. "Marrying his pretty lady, I mean.
My guess is it's just the first wedding of many, what with talk of war in the air and young men being what they are, and that's good for businessi"
Indulgently, Gaunn bought her a brooch in the shape of a vaux lily, set with paste stones, paying far more than the bauble was worth. "It's a fitting symbol, don't you think?" he said.
Ashen bit her lips to keep from smiling. "She's been after him for as long as I can remember.", She regarded the lily brooch. "I'll keep this in my jewel box because you gave it to me, but if you don't mind, I won't wear it very often."
At that, Gaurin threw his head back and laughed aloud. "May I suggest that you do not wear that Ash necklace at the wedding," he said, when the fit of merriment had passed. "Better the false brooch than a reminder of something the
Marshal gave to you back when he was courting the Ash heiress. It might dim the spirits of the bride, if she caught sight of it."
Ashen touched the necklace she was wearing around her neck. The center was a gold circle, set with a gleaming blue stone like the ones in her earrings, also a gift from Harous, she remembered. On either side of the circle, a gold chain, set with smaller stones, was attached so it would hang straight. "Never mind about Marcala," she said. "Does it bother you that I wear these things? That they came from Harous?"
"It did at first," he said genially. "But then I realized that this was the only heirloom of your house that you could hope to possess. Now I find it very thoughtful—even touching—that Harous thought to have that broken brooch made into a necklace so that you could wear it as often as you liked. I wonder where he found it."
"He never told me." A faint recollection of something she had once glimpsed, as if through a fog, trembled on the edge of her mind—fleeing for her life in the
Bog, a shadowy figure bending over the lifeless body of Kazi, a flash of something bright. Then, with the blare of trumpets from Rendelsham Castle, the memory was gone before she could grasp it.
"We must hurry, in case something important is happening," Gaurin said. "In any case, I have a gift for you myself."
As it turned out, trumpets blared these days in Rendelsham Castle for any reason and, sometimes, for no reason at all. When they had been established in their apartment and Ayfare was, as was her usual custom, setting everything to rights,
Gaurin went to pay his respects and also report their official arrival. Ashen left for the Fane of the Glowing, a carefully wrapped bundle of books under her arm.
"Thank you once again, kind Esander," she said, handing him the parcel. "I would have returned these to you more promptly, but there has been little opportunity.
Travel has been difficult, and the roads, where they are not frozen, are nearly impassable, even by horseback."
"Pray, do not concern yourself, my dear Lady Ashen," the priest said. "Nobody cares about these books anyway, as I have told you, except the Queen, and she does not come here often. But see what I have for you! I stumbled upon it as I was looking for something else, not even in the hidden library. Most curious, it was hidden in a secret panel in the wall of a very obscure room in the Fane, a place where people seldom go. And yet, when I but touched a spot in the molding above a small fireplace, the recess opened at once. It was as if I had been destined to find it, at just that moment."
Ashen accepted the volume with hands that shook despite her efforts to control them. The book was obviously very old and, just as obviously, extremely valuable not only for what it contained but also in and of itself. It was bound in blue velvet-—a little faded and the worse for having been used, but still in remarkably good condition, probably because of its having lain hidden for so many years—and the hinges and locks were of gold set with precious gems. The large title, worked in such ornate letters that she couldn't make it out at first, was a single word, Powyr, and it was embroidered in pure gold thread into which many beads of gemstones had been included. Under this were more embroideries, and she realized that these were the words of the subtitle. Ye
Boke of Ye Fayne, it read. With great care, she opened the book at random. The writing inside was as beautiful as the cover and all the capitals were picked out in red and gold, with lavish illustrations on the title pages of each section. The thick, creamy paper, or whatever had been used in its making, looked as fresh as it must have been the day it was bound, with no yellowing or crumbling from age.
"I couldn't possibly accept this," she said, wishing with all her heart that she could. She held it out to the priest.
"No, it is yours," Esander told her, folding her fingers around the book. "After all these years, and given the interest you have in the subject and the great respect with which you approach it, not like the—Never mind. I have a feeling about you, Lady Ashen, and have had since the first time I met you, in the company of your unfortunate late husband, Obern. This feeling prompted me then to give you what I can, and continues to this day. Since this book is not a part of either the library to which all have access, or that beneath the Fane where only you and I go, then it is mine to do with as I will. And I will to give it to you."
"Thank you," she said, humbled. "I will guard it, and will use it—if I use it—as well as I may."
The priest wrapped the precious object in the covering Ashen had used for the books she had returned, and handed it to her. "Go in peace," he said.
That evening, at the wedding-eve dinner in the Great Hall, Ashen wore her best blue velvet gown, and the new necklace Gaurin had given her—strands of alternating pearls and sapphire beads, from which depended a modern rendering of her Ash badge in gold. With it, she wore matching earrings and bracelets. It was a gift that would have impressed even a Queen, and when she opened the wrappings it took Ashen's breath away at the very sight of it.
"I commissioned this made when we were in the city for the Grand Tourney," he told her as he fastened the ornament around her slender neck.
"You are so generous. A mere 'thank you' seems so inadequate for such a beautiful gift."
"You are the loveliest woman in the room," he whispered in her ear as they entered the Hall.
Inside, all was warmth and light, and the sounds of celebration filled the air.
The smell of good food wafted from the doorway through which the pages were just beginning to bring the dishes, and Ashen's stomach reacted in anticipation.
Obviously, no expense was being spared. This was just the feast prior to the real celebration, for the wedding would be on the morrow. A woman clad in deep red came toward them.
'Tour Gracious Highness the Queen Dow
ager Ysa!" Gaurin exclaimed, cordiality in his voice. "We bring greetings from the Oak-enkeep." He bowed and Ashen dipped a deep curtsey.
Ysa acknowledged the gestures with a nod of her head. "It has been but a short while since last we had the pleasure of having you and Lady Ashen in our company," she said. "I trust that all has been well in the meantime?"
"We scarcely had time to miss being in Rendelsham before this happy event summoned us to return," Gaurin said. He seemed to be perfectly at ease, and even enjoying himself.
The Dowager was clad in satin and velvet this evening, with many strings of garnets and pearls around her neck, and the Oak badge prominent on her headdress. Ashen noted that Ysa's jewels were certainly no finer than her own though the other woman's pearls were larger. "Is the Dowager Rannore dining in the Hall tonight?" she said.
"She is, and the King as well," replied Ysa. "Yes, we and our Court are truly gay now that so much—discordance has been removed from our midst."
