Stephen Lawhead - Taliesin

“An embroidery hoop?”

“Very like, but no. It is an enchanter’s ring. I will hold it up so” She displayed it between her palms. “And you tell me what you see.”

The girl looked and at first saw nothing but the queen’s shoulder and the glade beyond. She opened her mouth to speak, but Danea said, “Wait! Concentrate. Look deeply.”

Charis’ brows knitted in concentration. She stared into the hoop and the objects within grew hazy. There was a swirling motion, like the circular swipe of a whirlpool. Charis felt dizzy, as if she would swoon. But she forced herself to look, and when the motion ceased she saw a palace on a hill surrounded by apple groves. “Why, it is my home!” she replied in surprise. “Our palace in Kellios.”

“What else do you see?”

Charis peered into the enchanted ring as if into a mirror and saw a slim young girl running across a wide courtyard, followed by a barking brown dog. The girl stopped and threw a stick high in the air and the dog danced on its hind legs to catch it. “That is Velpa, the master cook’s daughter.”

“And now?”

The image within the hoop swirled again and resolved itself. This time it was a picture of the garden itself. Two women walked side by side, deep in conversation.

“There is Mother and Elaine,” said Charis, and her mother glanced up. “Can they hear me?”

“No, but she sensed your presence when you spoke.” The High Queen lowered the hoop and placed it in her lap. “That was very good, Charis. Not everyone does so well; some see nothing at all. You may have a gift for enchantment.”

“Was Velpa really there?”

“You saw her as she is now, yes.”

“Does it always show what you want it to show? Or is it like the Lia Fail?”

“Do you know how to use the Lia Fail?”

Charis nodded. “Annubi is teaching me.”

“But you have used it yourself on occasion without telling anyone. Am I correct?”

“Yes,” admitted Charis reluctantly. “But I meant no harm.”

“Of course not. You are curious, and that is a wonderful attribute for someone who wishes to become an enchantress.”

“Are you an enchantress?”

The High Queen inclined her head regally. “So some would say.”

“Could you teach me? I would give anything to leam.”

Danea smiled and leaned forward. “Would you? It is far more difficult than you imagine; it would take many years to learn what I know, and that is just a beginning. You would have to leave your home and family and work very hard. Such learning comes at a very high price and there are not many willing to pay it.”

Charis fell silent.

“Do not despair, child. Your love for your family is commendable. There are other things besides enchantment,” Da-nea consoled, and Charis realized that the High Queen seemed to read her thoughts almost before they appeared in her mind. “But life is never as certain as it appears, Charis. One does not require enchantment to see that impossible things happen all the time.”

From the far side of the pool came a call: “Charis, where are you? Charis…”

“Your mother and aunt are looking for you. Go to them.”

Charis turned to leave. “Will I see you again?”

“Oh, yes We will meet again.”

“How will I find you?”

“As you found me today.”

Charis retraced her steps to the ferny curtain, parted the fronds and, as she made to step inside, turned to wave farewell. But the High Queen had vanished, leaving not so much as a bent blade of grass to show that she had ever been there at all.

Beside the pool in the lemon grove, Charis found Briseis and Elaine strolling toward her. “Charis,” her mother said, “where have you been? We have been looking for you.”

“I lay down by the pool…” she began. “I-I must have fallen asleep,” she replied, and then wondered why she had lied. “I am sorry.”

“No harm,” put in Elaine. “But I have had enough of a walk for today and we should be going back.”

They started back together, the two women talking softly and Charis wandering idly behind them, her head filled with thoughts of the strange and wonderful enchantments she would perform when she became an enchantress.

“No,” said Avallach, shaking his head gravely. “Seithenin is right. We cannot go to the High King yet. We have no proof of what Nestor intends.”

“We all know well what he intends!” said Belyn angrily. “What about spies? I have their documents with me. Were we to present them to Ceremon, he would have to agree. I say we must put it to him now-before Nestor has had time to poison opinion against us.”

“But if we go to Ceremon now and he demands proof- proof of war, proof we do not have-that, too, will poison opinion against us.”

“And if we wait but a little longer,” put in Seithenin, “Nestor himself may provide the very proof we need. His failure to attend the banquet last night was a slight that will not go unnoticed. Perhaps his next act will be even more condemning.”

“Waiting can hurt nothing,” said Avallach.

“And it will give us time to win more support to our side.”

Frowning, Belyn relented. “Very well, but it galls me to wait while that-that serpent continues laying his plans with impunity.”

“Belyn,” said Seithenin softly, “this is a most grave and serious charge. The Nine Kingdoms have known peace for more than two thousand years. We must do all we can to preserve that peace.”

“Including fight for it,” put in Belyn.

“If we must. But only when all else has failed,” said Seithenin. “If we loose the hounds of war, we must be ready to follow, whatever the cost. Therefore, we must be certain-more man certain-that we know what we are doing.”

“I will not be caught unawares,” said Belyn. “We all know what kind of man Nestor is.”

“Yes,” said Avallach, “he is the kind of man who proves his own downfall. We have only to watch and wait.”

“As long as we are not found watching and waiting when the wheels of his chariots raise the dust of death in our own courtyards,” said Belyn. He pushed back his chair and got to his feet. “I will leave you now.” He raised his hands in the sign of the sun, then turned and walked from the room.

“Ah,” sighed Seithenin when Belyn had gone. “So impetuous.”

“He feels things strongly. A gift from our father who was a very intense man.”

“Yes, King Pelles, I remember him. In fact, I remember the first time we met, you and I. You were a boy-not much older than your own Guistan-when your father brought you with him on some matter.”

“I am surprised that you should remember that. You were not much older than that yourself. Our houses have been linked a very long time.”

“Yes, yes. Good friends,” Seithenin agreed readily. His eyes shifted slightly.

Avallach leaned back in his chair and smiled. “And you know, I have been thinking of recognizing our alliance formally.”

“A treaty?”

“No, a marriage.”

“I see.”

“What would you say to a marriage between my daughter and your oldest son-Terant, is it?”

“I welcome the prospect. Terant is a worthy young man, and your Charis, from the look of her, will grow into a fine woman. I would say that a better match would be difficult to find.”

“Let us call it a match then.”

Seithenin picked up his rhyton from the table and lifted it. “To eternal friendship between our houses.”

“To eternal peace.” Avallach raised his glass to Seithenin’s and drank. He replaced the glass and stared at it silently for a long moment. “The world is changing, you know. We cannot hold our place in it much longer.”

“Perhaps,” said Seithenin gently. “But we will hold it yet a little longer. Our time is not finished.”