Elizabeth Haydon - Destiny - Child of the Sky

Before she left she had made sure to say goodbye to the people in Tyrian that she loved, Sylvia and the pages in the palace, Rial, the townsfolk of Tyrian City, the soldiers and the Lirin children, as well as her adopted grandchildren, and most especially Oelendra. Her mentor refrained from all well-meaning advice and had stayed with her in silence or trivial conversation, watching the fire, sitting under the stars. The elderly warrior had held her hand and had sung Rhapsody’s devotions for her when her voice would not come. On the night before she left, Rhapsody had opened the door of her chambers in Newydd Dda to find the ancient woman standing there, clutching a package. She had placed it hurriedly into Rhapsody’s hands, refusing the invitation to come in.

“I want you to have this, darling,” she said in response to Rhapsody’s questioning look. “It was Pendaris’s first gift to me, and there is more love in it than you can imagine. I hope it will bring you as much comfort as it did me. I will see you at the Council.” Rhapsody opened her mouth to protest, but before the words formed on her lips, Oelendra was gone.

Rhapsody went to the balcony of her room and watched as the warrior walked away, her broad shoulders bent as if carrying a great weight. She took the package to her bed and opened it. Inside was the red silk robe with the embroidered image of a dragon that Oelendra had left for her the first night she had stayed in the warrior’s home. Her stomach turned; the image on it reminded her of Ashe. She hurriedly packed it up and placed it carefully out of sight in her satchel.

Anborn had come to see her, and had provided much useful information about the various Cymrian Houses and their leaders, as well as refreshing and brutally honest insight into the expected hostilities and bad blood between them. Rhapsody found him easy to talk to, as always. When he left he had taken her comfortably in his arms and warmly kissed her goodbye, then pulled back and regarded her with amusement.

-

“I suppose you are going to make me wait until after we are wed before going to bed with me.”

“Of course,” she had answered breezily. “It’s the only honorable thing for me to do. Otherwise, you might fear I was taking advantage of you, having my way with you to leave you, despondent and brokenhearted, at the altar. I know you would be consumed with worry.” His laughter had rung in her ears long after he had taken his leave that night.

Now, as she rode over the fields of Avonderre and western Navarne, she drove the thoughts of the people she cared about from her mind. The F’dor was dead, but she was now more afraid than ever.

Finally, after a week of hard riding, she found herself in the right place at sunset, in the secluded glade where she had come a year before, walking slowly around a quiet lake at the base of the hillside. When she could see the cave she felt the wind pick up, blowing her hair lovingly around her.

“Do you want to see me?” she whispered.

“I always want to see my friend,” came the multitone voice, warm and windy. “Come in, Pretty.”

“I may be with child, and if I am, it is demon-spawn,” she whispered again in a tone so low that no one save the dragon could hear her. It was something she had given voice to only once before, and she choked on the words, her eyes filling with tears.

“Do not cry, Pretty,” the harmonious voice answered. “I love you.”

Oelendra winced at the look on Ashe’s face; he had obviously been to the palace and had been turned away. “I’m sorry, dear,” she said gently, opening the door of her cottage wider to allow him entrance. “She’s gone. Do come in and rest awhile.”

Ashe looked away for a moment. “No, thank you, Oelendra, I have to find her. Please tell me where she went so I can be on my way.”

“Come in,” Oelendra said firmly, in the same voice she had used to coerce Rhapsody’s secret out of her. “I have dot mwl on the fire; it’s a beverage Rhapsody has loved since childhood. Perhaps it will ease your heart a little as well.”

Ashe sighed reluctantly and removed his hooded cape, then followed her into the house. He sat in the willow rocker before the fire as Oelendra ladled him out a mug of the steaming drink.

“You must go to the coast, Gwydion,” she said as she handed him the dol mwl . “The Second Fleet will be arriving soon in response to the horn of the Council. It is your responsibility as head of the House of Newland to greet them and lead them into the Moot.”

Ashe’s startlingly blue eyes opened wide in the hot vapor that rose from the mug. “She’s calling the Council?”

“Aye.” Oelendra studied his face. “Is that disturbing to you?”

He took a deep drink, letting the soft flavor fill his mouth, then warm his throat as he swallowed. “Only a little.”

“Why?”

Ashe looked into the fire. It was burning steadily, without an opinion, so unlike the way it did when Rhapsody was nearby. “Because I expect the Council will change a great many things about her life, about our lives. All she wants more than anything in the world is to find a goat hut in the forest and live out her days in peace. If I could grant her anything, it would be that.

“But it will never happen now. Once the Cymrians see her they will idolize her. She will be sought after, harassed endlessly. I don’t really want to share her with them, Oelendra; they don’t deserve her any more than I do. For all I know I will be at the end of the line for her attention and her love.”

Oelendra nodded knowingly. “It must be very difficult for you now.”

“Difficult?” His laugh was almost a bark. “I’m afraid that doesn’t even begin to describe it. Can you imagine what it is like being married to someone like her, and she doesn’t even know it? She hates me, Oelendra.” His tone was more frightened than bitter.

“No, she doesn’t, Gwydion. She loves you. She is under great pressure and false assumptions.”

Ashe nodded and took another sip, hoping it would loosen the choking knot in his throat. “It probably doesn’t help that she is being pursued mercilessly by every idiot in the world, slathering over her, locking their horns like stags in rut.”

“Undoubtedly not,” Oelendra said gravely. “Are you behaving like one of them?”

Ashe set the mug down with a graceless thump. “Of course; I never denied I was an idiot. So she has gone back to Ylorc; bloody hrekin , I just came from there. Well, at least I found all the shortcuts so the way back will be faster.”

“Gwydion, listen to me,” Oelendra said sternly. “Do not go to Ylorc; go to the coast. She doesn’t want to see you now; she won’t see you now. Wait until after the Council is over; then everything will have been sorted out, and you’ll know what you’re dealing with.”

Ashe stood up. “You expect me to wait for months to see my own wife? To delay telling her that I love her, only her, and always have? Oelendra, I don’t think you understand. I hid from the world for twenty years, believing that the next moment held my death and damnation; it was indescribable torture. But I would gladly go back to that state in a heartbeat rather than remain in the torment I am in now. By the time she finally consents to see me she’ll have wed Anborn, or Achmed, gods forbid, or have been stolen away by one of her suitors against her will—”

“I doubt that,” Oelendra interjected.

He was already at the coat peg, retrieving his cloak. “Perhaps not; I don’t care. I can’t let this go on any longer. I could carry this secret the rest of my life if I thought that the alternative was better, but it’s not. She’s going to find out someday what we promised to each other. If she has married another in that time, it will kill her; it will be like Llauron all over again, only worse.”