Robert Hughes - The Prophet of Lamath

“Ligne,” Bronwynn said, her thoughts far away.

“The same.” Bronwynn bit her lip. Then she looked up at Pelmen. “Where were we going to go next?”

“I never made any plans beyond today, Bronwynn,” Pelmen said. “I didn’t really expect to need them.” He gazed at her face, his eyes serious. “You are free, must be free, to go wherever you choose. You are, after all, the Queen of Chaomonous. And a Queen waits on no man’s decision.” Bronwynn looked over at Rosha. He had backed away a step and had been waiting for her to notice him again. He felt sorrow that it had been Dorlyth who had slain her father, but she could hardly blame him for that.

“Where are you going?” she asked him. “I’m—I’m riding home to see my father. He told me to come home when I’d become a hero.” Rosha smiled slightly. “It appears I—I have.” Bronwynn looked back at Joss and sighed. “Then I’ll go with you.” She didn’t see Rosha’s smile die as she walked to take up the reins of her little white pony.

“You spoke of Admon Faye,” Pelmen said forcefully. “Where is he now?” Joss looked at the meddlesome player contemptuously—for so Pelmen was, to him. “Riding for his hideouts in the Great South Fir, being pursued by a contingent of my men. Oh, we’ll catch him eventually, Pelmen. You needn’t worry yourself over that.” Bronwynn rode to Join the Chaon party, and Pelmen noticed now that Rosha had retrieved his greatsword from the dragon’s eye and was mounting up as well. The youthful bear’s-bane patted his horse’s flanks, and they trotted over to join the group.

Bronwynn looked up at Rosha’s face. His expression echoed a look she remembered Dorlyth’s face wearing-stony, unflinching, unfeeling where women were concerned. She pointed a finger at him.

“Listen. Just because I have to go claim my throne doesn’t mean you’re free. I’ll see you again, Rosha mod Bronwynn!”

Rosha’s eyes widened. Gone was that rock-hewn expression, replaced by a boyish blush. Pelmen stifled a laugh.

“My—my Lady,” he stammered, this time with reason. “A Man woman does not call a man her treasure unless she intends to marry him!”

“I know that!” Bronwynn snapped. “I’m not stupid, you know! Joss, away!” She was gone then, riding south at the head of a troop of golden warriors, and Rosha thought as he watched her go that he had never known anyone so fit to be a regent.

At length he sighed, and looked at Pelmen. “Ready to g-go home?” he asked.

Pelmen’s eyes dropped. “No, Rosha. Not just yet. Tell your father I may be there in a few days, or weeks.” Then Pelmen shrugged. “Or maybe years. He knows me.”

“Indeed he does.” Rosha smiled. Then the young warrior cleared his throat. “I remember what you ccalled the old Elder at the m-monastery. For you and for him, it seemed-fitting. Somehow—it does to m-me as well. Fare you well, my father.”

Pelmen nodded, smiling. “And you, my brother.” Then the horse wheeled at Rosha’s command, and galloped swiftly down and out, onto the west-mouth plain.

Pelmen folded his blue robe carefully and put it on the ground. By now, the sun had set on Dragonsgate, and Pelmen had spent several hours in quiet conversation with the dead beast that had given the place its name—and with the Power. Now he grinned, and held out his hand. For the first time in what seemed like ages, a little ball of blue flame blazed in the air at his command. Pelmen pointed to the robe, and the ball dropped down onto it and quickly consumed it. Pelmen glanced at the sky, and spoke. “I hope you don’t mind, but there’s so much to do yet. And I don’t think I’ll be able to move freely as a holy man—” A sense of peace stole over him, a warm blanket of good feeling. The Power, he realized again, was real—and it was pleased. It really didn’t matter where or how he traveled now. The Power would meet him there, wherever it was.

He sighed, stood, and looked around at the darkness “Where to go, who to be,” he said aloud, then leant back and looked up again. “Will there be a time, ever, when I can be all my selves at once?” Not, he answered himself, while the world remained in such confusion. There was still so much to do. Pelmen mounted Minaliss, picked a direction, and beg his long ride out of Dragonsgate.