"I do not think I am destined to be a warrior," he said.
Lyrium smiled enigmatically.
"I will not question your decision," she said. "But I have one other thing of power that I may offer to you."
She gave the sword back to the bearer, who retreated with some confusion on his face as a second soldier approached and bowed, holding out to Lyrium a small box, which she took from him. Showing it to Robby, she opened the lid, revealing a plain iron ring cradled by a small pillow. Robby looked at Lyrium, who was watching him carefully. He looked more closely at the ring. But he could see nothing special about it as it was without adornment or decoration of any kind.
"It is the Ring of Hearing," Lyrium told him, "and there is only one of its kind in all the world. It was forged by a sorcerer of old. With it the wearer may know the thoughts of all those within sight. No thought of any such person may remain hidden. To the Faerekind it is useless, and its power can only be tapped by a child of Men."
Robby looked at the ring, dully gleaming in the moonlight.
"With this ring, I may know the thoughts of others, be they friend or enemy?"
"That is so."
"And they would not know their thoughts were seen? My own thoughts would remain hidden from them?"
"Truly."
"And thus I may know whether truth or falsehood is in the words they speak aloud?"
"Yes, and many other things besides."
Robby looked at the ring again, touching the box that held it.
"Such a ring has untold power. What leader would not wish to have this? Surely it is beyond price!"
Robby's hand reached closer to it, his eyes wide with anticipation and his mind reeling with possibilities. He ran his finger across the cool metal of its form, imagining the ways he could use it. He put his fingers on it to lift it from the box, then hesitated, pulling his fingers back.
"Why is this ring not now worn?" he asked.
Lyrium tilted her head, saying nothing, but her smile increased just a little.
"What madness must come to he who puts it on his finger?" Robby went on. "For what person in the world does not have vile thoughts, at times, and speak cruel things in his mind that no other may hear? What must it be like to hear them in others? Who would dare remove such a ring, once it is put on? For any thought missed may be the one that explains all the others. Yet, is it thoughts that matter? Or the actions those thoughts put into the world? How often have I changed my mind about things! How often have I regretted decisions made, wishing them unmade! Could I be the fair judge of such things, those most private and intimate musings?"
Robby spoke almost as if to himself rather than to Lyrium. His heart pounded with desire for the ring, but his knees quivered and his stomach twisted. He knew that such a ring was not lightly offered, no more than the sword. He shook his head, "I don't think so. Though I may regret the passing of these great and powerful things that you offer, this ring I must also refuse. Moreover, I wish it could be destroyed, somehow, and banished from the world forever, for I see too much danger and little hope of anyone putting it to good use!"
Robby closed the lid upon the ring and looked at Lyrium.
"Destroy this ring, I beg you!" he said earnestly. "For I fear that any who use it will be corrupted by it. And I fear the madness it could bring would do more harm in the world than any good its wearer might ever accomplish."
Robby was overcome with the greatest sense of relief as he said this, and he was filled with a firm opinion of what he said, even though he was confused by Lyrium's offering of the ring.
"It does not take a magic ring for me to see that you are baffled by my offered gifts," she said. "I test you. Just as you will be tested again and again. The sword, the ring, these temptations are unworthy of the king who must lead the world into a new age. But I offered them honestly, for though I loathe the use of them, I dare not part with them foolishly, nor do I throw them into the sea, for even the sea may give up its treasures. You are wiser than your years, Robby Ribbon. Or else blessed with plain common sense, as I have often heard it said of the people of Barley. Then are you firm in your choice and of your wish that this ring be taken from the world?" she asked with a benevolent smile.
"Most certainly, I am."
"Then, look once more upon it," she said, reaching to open the box. When the lid was swung open, a flash of yellow light appeared, and the ring glowed brightly, then fell into ash that blew away softly on the breeze.
"It is done!" she said. "This ring, a great evil in the world, was bound by its creator to grant one wish to any who could refuse the gift of it."
As the last dust blew away, Robby felt a sharp pang of regret. The realization gripped him that he had just become responsible for the loss of a thing of power greater than he may ever know again. Gone to all and lost forever. Then he felt a sense of relief, for he knew no one wise enough for such things, except perhaps Ashlord.
"Your wish is granted. You have destroyed a thing of great power. And, perhaps by doing so, you have rid the world of a great evil. Little else do I have to offer you, Robby Ribbon," she said, "except my friendship."
"That's more than I deserve, I'm sure. But I am sorry that you traveled all this way for nothing."
"The decision to come was longer and harder than the way itself. And the way back will be easy. Is there nothing I can do for you before I depart?"
"You do not stay?"
"No. I have placed too many at risk by coming here, and I would not have them remain at risk by overstaying my purpose. And I must travel on."
Robby glanced at his friends waiting patiently nearby, looking on with some anxiety and seriousness. Robby wondered how much Ashlord perceived of what had just happened. And he wished that he was standing among them and someone else was in his place.
"Like you, they think I am to become King. They think that I know the Name of the King. But I don't even know my own name!"
Lyrium smiled sympathetically. "You are caught in a paradox. It is not the one that you think you are caught in, but another altogether."
"What do you mean?"
"The prophecies are difficult to interpret. They spell out with fine detail certain things, but leave other matters open to anyone's guess. They say that he who shall become King shall be the one who knows the name of the King. But what name? We are given many. Which name is the right one? Is it truly a name that is secret from all? Or did the prophets mean only that the King will be replaced by one who knows the King?"
"I can only go by what I am told," Robby shrugged. "That he has a name, and that I am to know it. And, they tell me, knowing it will bring down the present King and deliver the throne to me. I know. My friend Billy, there, says that it is preposterous, and he's right. And, anyway, what hope have I, if all is so uncertain? How am I to know what to do?"
"You can only go by the calling of your heart and the answering of your mind, Robby Ribbon of Passdale, and find for yourself the meaning of these things. It is not for me, one who has Sight, to reveal all that I see, and there is much that remains hidden and mysterious, even to me."
Robby shook his head, thinking how useless such words seemed, and his disappointment showed in the slump of his shoulders and his sigh of irritation.
"Do not be vexed, I beg you," Lyrium said, touching his arm. When he turned to her he saw through her eyes that she truly felt his plight, and that she chafed at some limitation on her that prevented her the clarity that he so desired and that she longed to give. He was touched that a stranger would feel such concern for him, and he gave her a wry smile.
"Sometimes," she said, "it is better for things to take their own course, and people likewise, than to push them along this path or that one. You have chosen yours. Yet, there are many forks and many turns along every way. You think that the crux of your challenge is a name that cannot be known yet must become known. To you, that seems a paradox. But this I tell you, Bellringer: The name itself has no power and merely knowing i
t will avail you but little. The true paradox that surrounds your quest is not a matter of names, as you will come to see in your own time. It is a deeper one you face, an enigma that cuts through our existence, whether Mortal or Elifaen. You think I speak in riddles. But I do not. I ask only that you have some trust in what I say; if you stay true to your purpose, let your heart guide you, and ponder all these things, then the answers will come to you. You will remember this conversation when the answer becomes clear to you, and, remembering, you will find confirmation of it. Then you will know what it is that you must do."
• • •
As the two talked, the others of the group waited patiently and without speaking. Elmira and Belmira smiled enigmatically whereas the others had blank expressions, each wondering what was passing between Robby and Lyrium. Ullin had moved to stand very close to Ashlord, and he bent his head to speak. But Ashlord, still gazing at Lyrium and Robby, held up his finger. Ullin nodded and remained silent. Billy, glancing at Sheila and Ibin, then to Ullin and Ashlord, could no longer bear being silent, and finally cleared his throat softly. The two sisters looked at him.
"So. Did ye come a long way, then?"
The sisters' smiles broadened, and Belmira said, "Yes, a very long way, that is so..."
"...but not as far as you have to go."
"Our journey nears to its end..."
"...while yours will soon but begin."
Billy nodded, half-entranced at their sing-song voices. He suddenly felt little desire to talk further, but it was a lack of boldness that for once gripped him, not a lack of curiosity.
• • •
"I cannot repay the kindness of your visit," Robby went on. "And I am reluctant to impose upon you. But perhaps there is something else you might do, if it is in your heart."
"Pray tell me."
"I have heard it said that the First Ones have the power of prophecy, and you say that you have the power of Seeing. Could you look ahead and give us some notion of the path before us?"
"I do have it in my power to See, after a certain manner. But I cannot always see upon those things I wish to divine. It is a practice I avoid sharing because of the trouble it can cause among others. And it is a gift that commands me more than I command it. My visions come to me unbidden in dream or in trance. If I am to force them to come, I must prepare for many hours or even days. And the more I force them to come, the less likely I will have the words for sharing what I See. I cannot do this thing that you ask, not for lack of desire, but merely because the hour is late and I have not prepared myself for it."
"Oh," Robby said, unable to hide his disappointment. Lyrium looked at him, then at his companions nearby.
"Perhaps there is some comfort I may give," she said. "But in ordinary words. That is, to tell you why I have come. It is in the hope of seeing with my own eyes the King who will bring this age of waiting and watching to a close. Who will bring through the building strife a time of peace when the world, though broken, may begin afresh. Long have I waited and watched. Since from the days when our wings were taken from us, days when the forest knew no axe, and before the air was cut by steel or pierced by arrow. Here, sit next to me."
By now they had wandered to the end of the garden, and she led him to a small stone bench, and they sat.
"Long has been the decline of my people, and we would surely have dwindled to nothing had it not been for the coming of Men. But the curse laid upon us is not broken; even the alliance of Men and Elifaen has not been strong enough to endure it. From the earliest days it was foretold that there would be a time of healing, when once more our kind will take joy in the earth and once again soar through the forests and valleys, over the mountains and seas as we once did. A time when melancholia will know no place in our hearts, when memory is not a torment, and when the bounty of the world will be open to all. It is said that the power of Aperion's curse cannot endure He whom Aperion serves, the Creator of all the world, the earth, the seas, and the heavens. It is said that a wearing away of the strength of our curse would take place, and that our curse will pass away as all things do, even so-called immortal things. It has been prophesied that only the One True King of all the Earth may remove this curse upon us and heal the world. Only the One True King of Men and Elifaen may heal the wounds made by Aperion, King of the Faere. I do not say that it is you, Robby Ribbon. But that is my hope, for who else can it be? I have never had such hope or signs of hope in any king of earth until I learned of you. Even then, and for a long while, I did not believe the signs as they were given. They may yet prove fallible. But how much can be ignored, how many portents of change does one need?"
Lyrium looked for a moment at Robby's companions, standing with her daughters across the garden. Robby followed her gaze, and he had the odd sense that this meeting with Lyrium was years in the making, perhaps eons in the making.
"I struggled with the decision to come here," Lyrium went on, "not because I do not place my hope in you, but because I long so much for hope. But I fear to have it! My history is long, unto the beginning of things. Men, they come, they live, and they die. They do good or evil that lasts beyond their days, and even that passes away. Yet, my people remain, seeing generation after generation of Men grow stronger and greater in number, while we dwindle and retreat, weak, forlorn, distracted by reminiscence and melancholia, persecuted, cheated of our lands by the axe, by the law, and by the numbers of Men. And though we fight the Dragon King with glory and many victories, against Men we are nigh upon helpless. Still, we do not hate Men. Indeed, our salvation from annihilation came from Men. Ironic, is it not, that we look to Men still, even though they are now the source of much of our pain? Who else is there? You, Robby Ribbon, store clerk of Passdale, Bellringer. You are both Man and Elifaen! Though your time has not yet come, you, too, will enter Faerum, and feel its loss. No wonder the signs and portents have been confused and misunderstood! For here they point to the Faere Folk as those that may lead the way from ruin, and there they point to the children of Men who may give the earth its healing. But now all is clear to me, and to others who see."
Robby leaned on his elbows, his hands clasped together between his knees as she spoke to him.
"You know much more than I do about signs and portents, surely," he said. "And Ashlord is like you in that way. But I have seen no signs that I understand, and have only stumbled from trouble to trouble. The road of my life seems already paved, yet I cannot see where it goes."
"It is not already paved, nor is even your path blazed, for none have gone before you," she said. "No one has a ready-made path in life. Even when choices are few, the choosing of this over that makes a world of difference. Choice by choice, stone by stepping stone, your road is paved with choice. The hope placed in you is the hope that you, above all others, will make the right choices. Is it not so in every person's life that touches another? Is not that the hope mothers and fathers have for their children, friends have for each other, and the low have for the mighty amongst them and the lords that rule over them? To make right choices is not always easy, but neither is it always hard for those who have goodness in their hearts. I do not place my faith in you alone, Robby Ribbon, but in that which moves within you and moves all things in heaven and upon earth."
"Beras."
"If you call it by that name. Many do."
"I know little about such things," Robby replied. "But is there not some word you might give my company, some encouragement or sign, no less to me, that this quest is a worthy one? That it is not a hopeless waste, when we might instead be giving aid to our kin and countrymen?"
She looked at him sympathetically, and then turned her gaze to his companions. As her eyes moved from face to face, she saw indeed the care in each. She also saw fear and fatigue, and she was moved by Robby's request.
"In the days of old, when Men were new to these shores, they would often come among my people seeking advice and guidance, thinking our way somehow blessed, rather than cursed, by the gods. It i
s true, Robby Ribbon, that we hold to the world differently than Men, and touch the things of the world differently, the air, the water, for those things once conversed with us and told us their secrets. But no more; their voices have faded from us, year by year. It is also true that our immortality permits us to grow in wisdom and insight beyond the years of Men. But our hearts are just as full of passion, our jealousies just as strong, and our love as dear to us as to any child of Man. We are not without blame or mistake. I myself mistook the dreams sent to me as a sign of threat, once, when I now know they were merely a foreseeing of far away days of change. My kind are fallible. And, owing to our long time in life, we have more chances to make mistakes. But I will greet your friends, if you will introduce me."
"It will be my pleasure!"
He offered his arm and led her back to the waiting group. As they watched the pair approach, each for the first time saw her aspect change from the disguise of an old woman to the haunting young beauty that she was. Except, perhaps, for Ashlord, Robby's companions were stunned and surprised. Billy, especially, seemed affected by her transformation, and when Robby approached him first, he felt his stomach flutter and his cheeks redden. For the first time in his life, and in a rush of emotion, he felt a humility he had never known, and he felt all his carefree past was but a shameful waste of time when he should have been learning his responsibilities to become Master of Boskland. Her presence, to him, was a tangible reminder of his own mortality, for she was in the world when it was created, and would likely still be here when Billy was dust. He felt brief, as if his place in the world was rushing past. And all his friends felt exactly the same way as he did in her presence. Yet, even though Lyrium's aspect was penetrating, there was nothing but kindness in her eyes.
The Nature of a Curse (Volume 2 of the Year of the Red Door) Page 23
