“What do you mean?” She noted a tremor in his voice, different from the nervous quiver when he was hoping they would make love again.
“Your road is undecided,” she tried to explain. “You can’no know where the wide world will take you.”
“Nor can Aoleyn.”
She conceded that with a nod, but went on, “I suspect much of what lies before me in the wider lands to the east, and I expect that my journey will be dangerous and will return me to this place.”
“And I will be beside you and will fight for you.”
“No.”
“How can you deny—”
“No.”
Bahdlahn took a step back, his hands falling from hers.
“Our journeys diverge. The road will soon fork,” she said. “Your way and mine will not be the same, for the good of us both and the good of those around us.”
She pulled her hands from his, held them up, and, with a thought, transformed them into the paws of a leopard.
How Bahdlahn’s eyes widened!
“The magic consumes my thoughts and my heart, Bahdlahn, my friend Bahdlahn,” she tried to explain, though she realized that anyone who was not experiencing the beauty of the spiritual song could not truly understand. “I can’no know who I am until I have come to fully understand what it is within me. This will be my journey, and mine alone. It would not be fair to you.”
“I do’no care.”
“It would not be fair to me.”
Bahdlahn winced. “I thought you loved me.”
“You are my dearest friend,” Aoleyn said, sincerely and without hesitation. “I would give my life protecting you.”
“Then be with me this night.”
Aoleyn closed her eyes and let her hands become those of a young woman once more. She almost gave in to the plea, but before she opened her dark eyes, she was already shaking her head. “What we did was wonderful,” she said. “It gave to me confidence. Making love to you showed me that I—I and no one else—control this body that holds the spirit of Aoleyn. It showed me that intimacy can be beautiful and calming and joyous. I wanted that gift from you, and to give that gift to you, that our first experience would be one of trust and respect and comfortable joy. Nothing that might have happened in that night we spent in each other’s arms could have lessened my respect for you—and your respect of me, I trust.”
“I love you,” he said breathlessly. “Then and now.”
Aoleyn was shaking her head again, hardly even aware of the movement. “Then be my friend, Bahdlahn. Because that is what I need now as I sort out the puzzles before me. Be my friend and trust in me, and let me trust in you. And promise me that you will not let these feelings you have for me stop you from learning who you are. If Talmadge’s words are true, we will meet many new people in the coming weeks. We will find our way in a new world.”
“Together.”
“Our roads will separate, perhaps forever.”
He started to shake his head and argue, but Aoleyn stepped forward fast and put her finger over his lips.
“You are no warrior. That is not yet your place. But I am. With my magic, I am. I killed the fossa. I killed Tay Aillig. I have already learned the language of our enemies and will soon know more about them, and more about how to defeat them, than anyone alive. A great fight looms before me and I’ll not spend it worrying about Bahdlahn, who is no warrior.”
“I will learn to be a warrior,” he said, through a determinedly clenched jaw.
“Of that, I do not doubt.”
“I would spend this night in your embrace. Just holding you. Just being held by you.”
Aoleyn was actually surprised by her level of resistance to that plea. In that dark place not long ago, she had needed Bahdlahn, and sensed that he had needed her. But now she didn’t feel that need, and now she didn’t want that complication. Again, those pangs of guilt brought a slight wince to her. She feared that she had used Bahdlahn selfishly. She tried to respond several times but couldn’t find the words.
Bahdlahn rushed forward and crushed her in a great hug, then moved back to arm’s length.
“You saved my life many times,” he said, and his voice grew strong and confident. “You showed me friendship when I had none. You showed me love when I did’no think it could be.” He paused and took a deep breath, looking down, trying to find some balance, she thought.
“Aoleyn,” Bahdlahn finished, “I will be your friend.”
He lifted her hand and kissed it gently, then turned and walked back to the larger camp of refugees.
Aoleyn turned back to the lake and closed her eyes, trying to steady her swirling emotions. She thought that it wouldn’t have cost her much to go and be with the man—she did indeed trust him and cared deeply for him. But no, how could she if it was not in her heart?
“Your pardon, good lady,” she heard behind her, and she turned to find Aydrian walking her way—and from the side, along the rocky lakeshore, not from the camp.
She sensed the discomfort in his voice.
“How much did you overhear?” she demanded.
“More than I should have, I expect,” he answered. “But I did not wish to interrupt.”
“Then I will trust your discretion.” She turned back to the lake.
“Of course.” Aydrian moved up beside her and said quietly, “That hurt you.”
“It hurt Bahdlahn.”
“He will recover,” the large man said, drawing a side-eye and a scowl from Aoleyn.
“It is good, then, that it hurt you too,” Aydrian added. “It is good that you care deeply about the effect your choices have on others.”
Aoleyn glanced back to the camp and caught the silhouette of Bahdlahn still moving away.
“But it was still your choice and only yours,” Aydrian offered. “If you had lain with him, then what of the next time? Or the time after that?”
“I do’no see how this is your affair.”
“It isn’t,” the man admitted, but Aoleyn caught his knowing grin when she couldn’t help but continue.
“Bahdlahn is only now knowing freedom, for the first time in his life. He barely knows what it is to have choices, never mind what it is to be a man, never mind the responsibilities of being a lover or husband.”
“Bahdlahn?”
“Yes,” she answered, surprised.
“Aoleyn,” Aydrian corrected. “You speak for Aoleyn, not Bahdlahn. Do not hide behind what you think are your responsibilities toward Bahdlahn.”
“You think to scold me?”
“I deign to tell you the truth, for I hope that you will come to trust me, for all our sakes,” said Aydrian. “It was not for Bahdlahn that Aoleyn refused his bed. It was for you. If in your heart you wanted his embrace, if your body tingled for him, you would have gone with him.”
“I…” She stopped short and turned to the lake, closing up defensively.
“That choice is yours alone, and Bahdlahn’s alone for Bahdlahn. That is honesty,” Aydrian said.
“The tingling of my body is no concern of yours!” Aoleyn scolded, turning, but that only drew a grin from the warrior, who was a decade her senior. She turned back to the lake yet again, so imperiously that she surprised herself by not stomping her foot.
“It is not,” he agreed.
Aoleyn was glad the discussion was over, except that it was not, and after a long pause Aydrian added, “I notice that you did not deny my observation.”
After another pause, during which she digested the words and privately admitted the truth of them to herself, she turned to Aydrian.
“And what would you have me do, O wise one?” she asked, her sarcasm masking her very real desire for an answer.
“You did the right thing, for yourself and for the young man,” Aydrian said. “You never owe such intimacy to another. It must be freely and willingly given, by both.”
Aoleyn turned back to him yet again, locking his gaze with her own.
“It’s either
there or it isn’t, so I have been told,” Aydrian said.
“So you’ve been told? And what about for this man named Aydrian?”
He gave a chuckle, one that seemed almost pitiful to Aoleyn. “I spent the first twenty years of my life with a dactyl demon inside me, a cancer put there in the womb when my valiant mother did battle with a most foul fiend.”
“Like the demon fossa,” Aoleyn said under her breath, trying to put aside her fears that the magic of the beast was also within her, calling her to become an animal wholly, as the fossa had once been. She thought of the bright-faced enemy and her instinctive transformation to save herself from his spear. How easy it would have been to tear out his throat … how warm his blood would have felt …
“And the last ten years in exile among the Touel’alfar,” Aydrian went on. Then, seeing Aoleyn’s confused expression, he explained, “The elves.” He held his hand out at about waist height. “This tall. Not human. The only human company I’ve had for a decade, other than a chance meeting with Talmadge and now with you people, was my own mother.”
“You were lonely, then?”
“No, not at all,” he replied. “For the one person I didn’t know was myself. How could I think about joining with another in such intimacy when I wasn’t even certain of who I was?”
Aoleyn felt as if he was talking about her in that moment, and she relaxed, realizing then that this stranger did understand her inner turmoil.
“I was more than satisfied with the company I found,” Aydrian went on. “With the elves, with my mother—oh, no one could ever ask for a more wonderful mother than Jilseponie—and with Bradwarden the centaur.”
“A centaur?”
“Half man, half—”
“Half horse. Yes, I know from our old tales—tales told to frighten the children.”
“Oh, they are very real,” Aydrian assured her. “Larger than life, and none who ever met one, particularly Bradwarden, would ever forget him.”
Aoleyn pondered that for a bit. “I would like to meet him, I think.”
“Maybe someday I will introduce you,” Aydrian said with a warm smile. “And then you will have a reason to be mad at me.”
He couldn’t hold a straight face, and soon Aoleyn joined him in quiet laughter, recognizing the joke.
“Someday,” she said, and Aydrian nodded.
“You should go and rest,” Aydrian said a moment later. “I came out to relieve you. I’ll watch the lake.”
Aoleyn nodded. “You know the magic songs?” she asked.
“I know how to use the gemstones, yes, if that is what you mean.”
Aoleyn produced a crystal she had slid into her belt, holding it up. “When I went back to the mountain, I found this one,” she explained, holding it up to her face and peering through it into the water. “Through its song, I can sense the fish. If I had been using it, you would not have overheard my conversation with Bahdlahn, because I would have sensed your approach.”
“It tells you when life is about?”
“It does. When we heard the coyotes as the sun set, I counted them through the magic of this crystal and knew they would be no threat to us. And here, on the lake, in the dark of night…” She held it up and looked to the west, the way they had come.
“You can see a long way, then?” Aydrian asked, and Aoleyn nodded and slowly turned, first to her right, inland, then back around and to the lake, as if taking a final scan of the area before retiring for the night.
She stopped short, however, and continued to stare out across the lake waters, and sucked in her breath in surprise.
“What do you see?” Aydrian asked.
“There is something out there—someone out there,” she replied. She kept peering out across the water but held the crystal out for Aydrian to take it and pointed with her other hand to show him the way.
Aydrian did take the crystal, but, to Aoleyn’s surprise, he didn’t bring it to his eyes. Instead, he crouched low, then moved lower, finally lying on the ground and looking out over the lake.
“What are you doing?”
“Come down here,” he bade her. “Get your eyes as low as you can and look up just enough to put the blackness of the mountains below your sight.”
Aoleyn did as he asked, staring hard, and was about to ask what the point of it might be. But then she knew, for a patch of stars disappeared, then more, and she followed the silhouette and surely recognized it.
“A sail, a boat,” she gasped, sitting up.
“Aye, coming fast,” said Aydrian.
* * *
“One volley,” Ataquixt quietly told his warriors. “Send them running, but we do not engage.”
“We can defeat them,” an older mundunugu argued.
“More slaves for Scathmizzane,” said another.
Ataquixt calmed them, reminding them how easily sound carried across open water. “One,” he whispered, emphatically holding up one finger. “Send them running, that I can get ashore.”
Some scowled, some sighed, but most nodded their reluctant agreement. This was a scouting expedition, not a war party, they had been told before setting off. And that scouting would not end at the new lake’s edge. Quietly, the twenty warriors set spears to their atlatl throwing sticks while the pilot maneuvered to bring the boat in close and then turn her sidelong to give the spearmen more room to throw.
The winds had not diminished. Sails full, the boat rushed toward the shore and then, with a call of warning, cut fast to the target, turning parallel to the shore.
The xoconai lifted their arms to let fly, aiming for the glow of the sheltered campfires not twenty paces inland.
Then they saw her—most of them did, at least—a small human woman, standing on the water’s edge, her arms outstretched, her cloak flying in the wind behind her.
“Fly!” Ataquixt commanded, and the arms came forward and the light spears flew out from the boat, many of them aimed at that clear and obvious target.
* * *
“Go. Get them running,” Aoleyn told Aydrian.
“Come with me!” Aydrian bade her.
“I will slow them.”
“You will die.” He grabbed her by the arm.
Aoleyn flashed him a dangerous scowl. “Trust me,” she demanded. “Go!”
Aydrian let her go, offered a nod of respect, then sprinted for the camp, which was already stirring, for others had now obviously noted the incoming craft.
Aoleyn spun back to the lake and listened for the song of her gemstones. She clearly saw the boat now, rushing for the shore and then turning fast, bending low in the water. She understood. She didn’t even need to see the uplifted spears to understand.
Every instinct within the woman told her to throw herself down behind the rocks, told her that she was too late, and that she couldn’t hold back this barrage.
But she heard the song of Usgar, a song she had come to trust, and she called upon the moonstone set in her belly ring, creating a wall of wind. Twenty spears flew out from the boat and twenty spears were slowed, deflected, defeated, by Aoleyn’s magical gale.
The boat continued its turn away from the shore. Aoleyn stamped her foot and a bolt of lightning shot out at it, but it couldn’t quite catch up to it and dispersed with a bright flash in the lake water. In that flash, she saw them clearly, their red-and-blue-streaked faces.
And she heard them yelling and knew their words—one voice, in particular, above the others, calling for a turn, a turn and a charge and a second volley.
Calling for the others to kill her, to kill the sorceress.
“Yes, come,” Aoleyn whispered. She turned back toward the refugee camp and called out to Aydrian and Talmadge to hurry them all away.
Aoleyn had no intention of following. Not yet.
She settled back to staring out at the boat, which was coming fully around now, its sails suddenly filling with the trailing wind, making it seem to almost leap forward. Now it was speeding in, straight for her, and Aoleyn re
alized that their turn would be much closer to shore this time, too close for her to fully blow aside the volley.
But she didn’t run.
She heard the song and trusted the song, and had the enemies on the boat seen the small woman’s crooked smile, they might have understood their folly.
Set in Aoleyn’s anklet was a large blue gemstone, one that she had used in a desperate situation before and whose power had shocked and frightened her.
Now she wasn’t frightened.
She felt the song rising, powerfully, its notes filling her frame with shivers of power and cold.
On came the boat.
She watched for the turn of the sail.
And as it began, as the boat suddenly broke again to her left, Aoleyn called forth the magic, aiming not for the boat itself but for the water in front of the boat, turning it into a sheet of thick ice.
Halfway into its turn, the speeding boat struck the berg, wood splintering, the craft lurching so violently that most of those aboard went flying over the side, some landing hard on the iceberg and sliding, tumbling, twisting across to plop into the water on the far side of it. Those who had somehow managed to stay aboard were not much better off, for half the prow had caved in from the impact, swamping the small craft, which listed hard and groaned as it settled against the ice.
Aoleyn heard the songs, several songs, and brought them spinning together as she had done to Tay Aillig up on the rocky outcropping. Above the crashed boat, above the ice, above the flailing enemies, the magics joined in wind and lightning and a sudden deluge of stinging sleet.
Aoleyn stamped her foot, calling down a lightning bolt from that tempest. The streak flashed into the water, where it became like a fireball, spreading in all directions, shocking the fallen xoconai and stealing from them their coordination so that they would flail and drown.
The young witch stared coldly, accepting the horrible reality of what she had to do. She brought down a second bolt, then spun on her heels and started away.
She called a third stroke of lightning, and then she was running. She called a fourth, from far away, the fleeing lakemen in sight, moving inland across the desert.
She would stay between them and the enemies, she decided, and any of the bright-faced invaders who made it to shore and gave chase would be dead before the dawn. Aoleyn mouthed her litany against the revulsion of such carnage.
Song of the Risen God Page 9
