Andre Norton - Ciara's Song

Aisling opened her mouth and shut it again. No one ever bested her grandmother once Ciara was determined on something.

In the end it was several more days before Aisling departed. When she did, they left by the upper valley, both she and Keelan astride horses of the Aiskeep strain. Dancer rode her shoulders in a padded baby sack. But before they were gone, Ciara took Aisling aside.

“Give me your dagger.” She accepted it, producing a second knife, which she offered. “This belonged to my own line. Legends say it was made by an adept so long ago the years themselves are dust. Whatever the truth of that, it will never require to be sharpened. Where you go, that is of more use than legends. There is also this. It was my mother’s. Elanor laid it away in a chest. I found it after her death.”

Aisling gasped at the cloak. It was of riding length. Astride it would hang almost to her stirrups, knee-length when she walked on foot. It was woven of a fine gray wool, lined with white fur, and made skillfully so it could be worn either side out.

Ciara stroked it as she held it out. “I remember my mother making that, spinning and weaving the length of wool half of the previous winter. I wore it when I left Elmsgarth with Tarnoor and Trovagh—afterward.” Aisling did not ask after what. She knew it had been after the deaths of all her grandmother’s family.

She saw that Ciara still held something. It was within a small bag of embroidered silk, A finely wrought tempered-steel chain hung from the bag’s opening at the top.

“Is that for me, too?”

“Yes.” She lifted it toward Aisling as she lowered her head. As it settled on her breast the girl felt a surge of warmth.

“Oh, what is it?” Her fingers widened the opening as she peered down. “Grandmother, I can’t take this. It’s your pendant. The one your brother gave you.”

“And now I pass it on. In my dream I saw you ride, child. My mother’s cloak about you, Dancer at your shoulder. Fire shone at hip and breast where dagger and pendant hung. I do as I was bidden once. I give what I treasured, that one I love may fly free.”

Aisling bent to hug Ciara hungrily. This would be the last time she’d see Aiskeep, the last time she saw the love in her grandparents’ eyes, felt their arms about her. Trovagh saw his wife was done and joined them, hugging Aisling lovingly.

“Take care, my dear. May you find your dream.”

Aisling nodded, her throat aching too much for her to speak. She turned her horse toward where Keelan waited. Behind her Ciara whispered.

“Fly free. Find your dream and be happy.”

She linked her arm with that of her husband. They stood watching until there was nothing more to see. Then they sought the shrine to pray.

The air was cold but not the icy chill that would grip later in winter. At first Aisling was somber but then her mood lightened. It was an adventure. Besides, she had to go. She couldn’t be miserable all the way to the border and make poor Keelan unhappy, too. She began to sing, then choked off the sound hurriedly.

Keelan laughed. “Yes, sing, little sister. There are no enemies about to hear you.”

“How do you know?” Despite her resolutions her tone was sharp.

“Grandmother leaves no more to chance than she must. Six of the guards rode out yesterday. They travel in a screen ahead for the next few days. Once they turn back, we’ll disguise you and the horses. It’s mostly their color people remember. With you, they remember you’re a girl.” Aisling looked at him in surprise.

“I’m going to be a boy?”

“Yes. I’ll be a blank shield, you’ll be my younger brother learning the trade.” His voice dropped in regret. “We’ll have to cut your hair and both of us will be bleached blond.”

“Why didn’t we do this before we left Aiskeep? It would have been easier.”

Keelan nodded. “And people would know. Kirion’s still about. He’s very good at persuading people to talk one way or another. You’ll notice Ciara didn’t give you the cloak until we were past all the garths.”

He glanced up at the sky. “It’s going to snow again. We’ll keep moving until we get to shelter. I’ve kindling in my pack.”

They rode in silence then, Aisling thinking as she moved automatically to the swing of her mount’s steps. In a way she supposed she’d been naive. She’d somehow imagined that she would just walk out of the valley alone. Walk all down the line of hills to Geavon’s Keep, then up along the border to some place she could cross into Estcarp. Just as if she was out for a ladylike stroll in her own Keep.

She gave a slightly bitter smile. And she had probably expected a complete Keep of relatives to be waiting at the pass to greet her. She took a deep breath of the cold air. Thanks be to Cup and Flame for her grandmother. Without her, Aisling would still have been walking to the border a year hence.

They camped in a shallow cave that night. It was quite comfortable, Aisling thought, if you didn’t mind sleeping on rock in a draft. It reminded her all over again that even so, this would be easier than the trip she’d planned. Keelan was quietly confident.

“If there was any trouble ahead, one of the men would have come back to warn us. Sleep all night. Later on we’ll have to take it in turns to stand watch.”

Five days passed in peace as the horses plodded through the light snow. On the fifth night one of the guards from Aiskeep appeared. Keelan looked up in query.

“No sign of anyone, my lord. A couple of the others have gone another day ahead just in case. They’ll watch the road you’ll be joining then. They can tell you who’s ahead of you. I’ve sent others back to see who comes up the road behind you.”

“Good. Share the fire, tell Keep’s lord and lady we were well when you saw us last.” The man nodded agreement. When Aisling woke, he was already gone.

They found the other guards at the road. Harran greeted them, quietly waving them to camp in the lee of a large lawleaf thicket.

“Very little traffic on the road,” he told them over stew. “Ahead, there’s a small group of merchants hurrying to winter over in Kars. Coming up behind you there’s several single travelers. None look to be a danger.” He looked at Dancer. “Just don’t let any of them see that cat. It isn’t exactly the sort of companion mercenaries ride with. Move along briskly, though, and likely they’ll never catch you up.”

Keelan and Aisling did so. The roads were wearying since they kept more to the lesser trails and stayed from the main road direct to Kars city. They arrived at Geavon’s home to good news once the old man had them alone.

“Ruart has taken the bait I have dangled before him. He will wed the girl and Shandro will call home his soldiers before the winter is done. But be wary. I have heard nothing of Kirion of late; that I dislike.”

Keelan looked thoughtful. “Did you not have a spy in Iren Keep?”

“I did. He vanished,” Geavon said briefly.

Keelan whistled. “I dislike that myself. How much could he have said if forced to speak?”

“Too much. Yet he disappeared on the way here. It may have been bandits. His horse was a good beast.”

“And if it was not?” Keelan queried, leaning over to stroke Dancer.

“Then he could have said you were on the way here. That you were expected before the worst part of the winter. I made inquiry when I discovered he was nowhere to be found. He should not have known these things, but someone spoke too carelessly.” Geavon gathered himself to stand slowly. “I think it best that you, Keelan, remain here. If there are watchers, let you appear careless just once. They will believe Aisling remains here with you.”

“But she does not?”