As they neared to within a furlong of the western gate, they seemed to slow; that is, they took on the aspect of speed in keeping with the natural way of things. The rhythm of their cadence did not slacken, and the passing of them through the gates was a mighty affair and no less eerie. The crowds parted to let them by, and the Tallinvale soldiers saluted while the other spectators bowed. Thus the mysterious company made its way easily to the intersection at the center of the town, passing from there onto the way that led up to Tallin Hall.
• • •
Tyrillick had by now led Robby and his companions to the West Garden, just outside the family wing of Tallin Hall, the same garden where Mirabella first met the Barleyman who would become her husband. A nervousness infected Robby's company as the sound of the approaching visitors grew closer. Lady Moon enthusiastically looked straight down on the bright and glorious profusion of white and pale blue flowers amongst the shrubs and on the vines that grew all around in the garden that Lady Kahryna had dedicated to her and had so carefully planned and tended during her life here. Though long passed away, Kahryna would have been pleased that her husband had meticulously continued its maintenance, and pleased that it would be the reception-place for such a renown visitor. For every blossom was at its peak, every leaf and vine seemed perfectly attuned to the evening light. Even the pink and red blooms that grew about the many arbors and statues mysteriously showed their color with a strange vibrancy in the silver light. Indeed, the lamps along the portico, and those hung here and there throughout the garden, seemed superfluous to Robby. For everything seemed radiant of its own accord, strange and alluring, as if it was not night-time at all, nor daytime, and neither dusk nor dawn, but some other time of day joined of all the others.
Lord Tallin was nowhere to be seen, nor Dargul, though surely they knew the visitors had arrived. Ashlord seemed pensive, and Sheila was likewise restless. Billy and Ibin wore blank looks and remained uncharacteristically quiet, while Ullin leaned against a column of the portico with arms crossed and his head down as he often did, but Robby could not tell if he was relaxed or deep in thought.
There was a sudden crescendo of sound. Outside the garden gate not far from where they stood, the entourage came to a halt, the strange and wonderful carriage turned around widely so that it was just outside the gate entrance facing the way it had come. Soldiers dismounted and formed lines all around the carriage, and the female attendants entered the garden some little distance within, forming a line to either side of the path. The door of the carriage opened briefly, and brilliant golden light spilled out. Squinting, Robby could see vague shapes moving in silhouette toward them between the ranks of attendants. He also sensed Ashlord's presence very close to him.
"I warn you, Robby Ribbon," Ashlord said quietly in the sudden silence of the garden, "these folk are not to be taken lightly. There is one here who will offer you gifts, and it is your right to accept what you will, but such gifts often come with unexpected consequences."
"What do you mean?" Robby asked, thinking of Swyncraff about his waist.
"Merely this: If it is not within your power to control or to wisely use what things may be offered to you, it would be better to refuse them."
Before Robby could press Ashlord, several figures appeared at the gateway, all on foot. Except for the two women who led the group, Robby saw that they were all sternly dressed warriors, in banded armor the color of brass, and upon their heads they wore the same helmets that the soldiers on Tulith Attis had worn. On their black cloaks, these soldiers wore the same insignia, too, the ivy-entwined star, that he had seen there. They approached quickly and without noise, and the two women cast back their hoods, smiling as Robby stepped down from the portico. One, with red hair flowing, wore a cloak and gown of black, trimmed in red with blood-red rubies in the ring on her hand. The other, blond hair flowing, was similarly attired as the first, but in a silver-white fabric with green trim and with emeralds rather than rubies. Robby and his group bowed as they came before them, remaining silent and respectful. The two ladies gazed at Robby, smiling benevolently, as if sizing him up, and he stepped forward from the group and bowed again.
"I am Robby Ribbon," he said.
"My name is Elmira," said the one in silver.
"And I am Belmira," said the one in black.
"I think you remember..."
"...from some years past..."
"...our visit to you..."
"...when you saw us last."
"Yes. Yes, I do," said Robby. Butterflies fluttered in his stomach, and his breath quickened. "You came to me when I was sick. When I was a child."
"Your banshee sang..."
"...and your fever was hot..."
"...but you were strong..."
"...and she took you not."
"T'was a night filled with fear,"
"...that ended in joy."
"And now you are grown..."
"...and no longer a boy."
"And now as a man,"
"...with your burden to bear,"
"...surely you wonder..."
"...why we are now here."
"I do wonder," Robby answered, his voice still shaking, looking back and forth from one lady to the other. "I hope it is not to claim payment for my recovery all those years ago," Robby answered, "for we have very little these days."
"No debt do you owe,"
"...it has already been paid..."
"...though we did not see..."
"...how it would be made."
"The Great Bell was rung..."
"...and tolled the end of these days..."
"...and these days must end..."
"...before the new age may come."
Robby glanced at Ashlord behind him, wondering how they knew.
"I rang the bell accidentally," Robby began.
"What one does accidentally..."
"...another calls fate."
"And what some call fate..."
"...others call destiny."
"So I have heard it said. But of such things I know very little," Robby put in while he could, "except what I have been told. I only desire peace for my people and their well-being. I do not desire destiny, or fate, or any more accidents."
"Well spoken!" said a small voice from behind the two ladies. "It is as was foretold to me, 'The Hidden One shall not know his own way for many years. And when he learns it, he shall yearn to refuse it.' "
Elmira and Belmira parted one to either side, bowing to a third woman who emerged from behind them, an old bent crone, dressed in a simple gown of plain cloth. Her sparse hair was white, and with one thin and arthritic hand she leaned on a wisp of a cane that looked as frail as she, and with the other she held her shawl together at her neck. Her voice was thin, as a child's voice in the distance, but clear and without cracks or wavers. She approached Robby, and he saw in her silver-gray eyes a whisper of blue and green, bright with enthusiasm as she turned her head sideways to look up at him.
"I am called Lyrium, of the House of Fairfir."
Upon hearing the name, Ashlord bowed his head. Ullin gaped, then he, too, bowed and put his hand on his breast. But Robby did not remember the stories just yet, and simply nodded a courteous bow as he would to any new acquaintance.
"I am Robby Ribbon, of Passdale," he said to her. A smile crossed her face as she saw that he did not know who she was, and she came even closer to Robby so that he was looking down into her searching eyes.
Then he recognized her face from the likeness he had gazed upon in the bell room, carved in stone and painted in life-like illusion.
"Oh!" he said. "It was your statue that I saw in the fortress."
"No. That was my twin sister, Myrium."
"Oh. Pardon me."
"Come," Lyrium said, holding out her hand. Robby took it, and she became tall and erect. Her plain dress changed to elaborate robes and gown. Her face lost its wrinkles, her lips became full and red, her cheeks filled with a mild blush, and her hair became thi
ck and black and long to her waist. Her figure became pleasing, and her flimsy cane grew and strengthened into a tall ornate staff of silver-laced fir. Robby held her hand, and, as he did so, he bowed to one knee before the striking young lady.
"I am no queen," she said, her voice now deeper and with no hint of frailty, "though I am honored by your gesture. Please rise and accompany me along this walk. It is such a beautiful garden that your grandmother planted, in moonlight and in sun. You know, we are distantly related."
Robby rose, glanced at Ashlord, who nodded, and then escorted Lyrium along the garden walk.
"No, I didn't know."
"Very distantly. My sister, whose likeness you saw at Tulith Attis, was your great-great-great-grandmother."
"Oh, yes. I saw a chart of the Tallin family tree earlier today. I remember, now. Myrium was Dalcadian's mother, and he was my grandfather's grandfather."
"Yes, that is so."
"Did your sister make it away from Tulith Attis as you did?"
"No. She was unable to escape," she said.
"Oh. I am sorry."
"Thank you for saying so," Lyrium paused to gaze at Robby. "But you must be wondering why it is that I have come to see you. Why I sent Tyrillick to ask you here."
"Yes, my lady, and I wonder at many other things, besides."
"These last months have been trying ones for you. You wonder what it is that you must do and how things have come to pass that so much should be placed upon your shoulders. You think you are too young and too inexperienced. Though perhaps you have yearned to know more of the wide world, you never dreamed in your darkest moments that this is how it would come about."
"True. That is all true."
"Tell me," she asked, "what do your friends think of you, now? They know, do they not, who it is that you may become?"
"Yes, they know," Robby told her. "But I cannot say for sure what they think of it all. I hardly know my own mind on all of this."
"Are you determined, then, to go through with your quest? To find Griferis and to enter therein and to strive for kingship? It will be dangerous. And not only for you, but also for any who accompany you."
"Yes. I see no safer way. I do not relish the idea of hiding forever, essentially useless, spending my life in fear for my safety and for the lives of those dear to me."
"That is what I thought," she said, stopping to look at his face. "I know what it is to live in hiding and fear. We were given refuge by one who wishes to remain unnamed, and who loaned to us our transport and escorts. Within that refuge, that hiding place, my daughters and I have enjoyed well-tended secrets and have been shielded from the disturbances of the world. We see the world from there, and know the passing of its careworn years. We have waited and watched. I have come now to offer to you our allegiance, for we will not serve the one who now sits in Duinnor."
"I am honored," Robby said, bowing.
"Do not bow to me," she said kindly. "It is I who should bow to you, and kneel, but I do not. I do not trust what other eyes may be watching."
Robby caught a note of warning in her voice.
"Many years ago," she went on, "my daughters, Elmira and Belmira, visited a young boy. He was sick with a strange fever, and his parents feared for his life. And in the delirium of his fevered dreams, the little boy muttered in a tongue that filled them with wonder, and a strange light covered his face. My daughters told me how they came to his bedside and how they strove with each other to see whether the boy should live or die, with Belmira representing the Halls of the Dead and Elmira the following days of his life. Yet, they told me that they could not utter his name, for he was nameless, and therefore he could not be bid to follow one or the other. So they soothed his fever and sang to him to calm his pains. They stayed with him into the night, giving him their blessings. When he had come through his struggle with death, all on his own, and took again the aspect of the living, and when his banshee ceased her song and had departed without him, my daughters then departed, too. And they came immediately to me and told me the tale.
"I was anxious to learn about this boy, for it came to my knowledge that a strange star had appeared on the night he fell ill. The eye of the Behemoth opened and burned brightly for seven days, closing again on the night my daughters departed the little boy's side. I later learned that when the prisoners and thralls in the faraway lands of the Dragon People saw the star, they rejoiced and endured their hardship and slavery with gladness, saying to one another that the star was a sign that their deliverer was coming, he who would redeem their freedom. Many other strange things happened in that week, terrible and wondrous, omens of the coming end of days and the beginnings of a new age. I learned, also, that old enemies were stirring and saw these signs as well. Ever yearning to bend the world to their dark will, they sent their agents far and wide, in among the great Houses of old they sent them, and amongst courts, and into the villages of seldom-noticed peoples, seeking everywhere the new coming king. Seeking to slay him and preserve their own power. But they failed to find him, and found none who knew of him. The years passed. The boy grew into a young man, strong and with a good heart, hidden amongst the ordinary and the humble. A store clerk. But fate has found him at last."
"You speak of me."
"I do."
"But I have never heard these things," Robby said. "Until lately, no one has hinted of any such fate."
"These things were hidden from you," Lyrium explained. "And, I hope, from all others, perhaps even your mother and your father. Your Melnari, there, perceives much, though he is still struggling to put meaning to the things he sees. It is a great burden to have your secrets. Your friends are beginning to feel the weight of it. One slip of the tongue, one errant letter or revealing gesture, and all would be lost. Until your enemies are defeated and utterly smitten, no one is safe from them. Not you, Robby Ribbon, nor your friends or family."
"That is why I have come to you now," she stated. "Now that it has been revealed to you and to others, and now that you have chosen your path, you will have doubts, naturally, and will be tempted to turn away from your goal. I offer my encouragement, such that it is. And I have it in my power to give you a choice of gifts. You may choose one or the other, but not both. Either gift may serve you equally well, but in different ways. And either gift may become a thing of loathing to you, if not used wisely."
She nodded at her daughters, who still stood near the others on the far side of the portico. They turned, and in a moment, one of their escorts, a proud soldier in armor and flowing robes, strode up to Robby and Lyrium. He bore in his hands a bundle, held before him, and kneeled, offering it to Lyrium.
"You may choose knowledge, such that I can give, or this," Lyrium said, throwing back the covering on the outstretched bundle, revealing a brilliant sword. "Ethliad, it is called. It once belonged to Silmain, first King of the Elifaen. He lost it in battle, and I later found it and kept it hidden. It was foretold that this would be held by he who would bring liberation to the lands. For many years, I thought it would be my husband, Heneil, who would wield it. But it was never my husband's destiny to do so. I offer it to you, if you wish to have it."
She handed it to Robby, who had never seen anything like it. It was long and straight, its blade gleaming with such brilliance that it seemed to be made of something other than steel. Its hilt was black metal, polished and inlaid with silver and gold, and its handle wrapped in fine leather, and he felt a welcoming grip when he took it. Upon the pommel was an emerald the size of Robby's thumb, surrounded by a circle of diamonds. Robby lifted it, surprised at how light it was. As he held it up easily with one hand, he felt a stirring in his spirit, and he stepped away from Lyrium, unable to take his eyes from the upheld blade before him. In the reflections there, he seemed to see vast battles unfolding before him as if looking through a narrow window. He would swear later that he even heard the cries of war and the thunder of drums and the ring of steel in his ears. He impulsively swung the sword through the air, a
s light as a reed, whistling as it went like a finger rubbing the edge of a crystal goblet. He felt power in his grip, his heart skipped a beat, and his stomach fluttered. He felt what he could do against the Redvests with such a weapon as this. He had the certain knowledge that no power in the world would resist its bite, nor turn its blow. Again, his stomach fluttered, his heart pounded a throb, and sweat broke across his brow. He noticed these sensations, and he took their warning. With cheeks reddened with embarrassment, he reluctantly offered the sword back to Lyrium.
The Nature of a Curse (Volume 2 of the Year of the Red Door) Page 22
