Prophecy: Child of Earth

14

“Tea’s ready. Want some?”

“Yes, thank you,” Rhapsody answered. She looked around the interior of the room again as Ashe laid a fire with the wet branches he had found behind the hut. She went to the hearth to light it, moving the little screen out of the way.

“It’s here on the table,” Ashe said.

“Thanks.” Rhapsody looked at the wood that a moment before had been green and wet; it was now dried as though seasoned for a year or more, every drop of water having been removed from it. She touched the kindling and spoke the word for ignition, then the one for sustenance, and sparks leapt up, catching the edges of the wood. She smiled and looked up at Ashe, who was kicking the towel he had dropped on the floor under the bed.

“Are you j^d to water yourself, or just through the sword?” She rose, picked up the mug he had set out for her, and went to the old chair, settling down in it.

He looked startled, then relaxed a bit. He took off his battered scabbard and laid the sword across his knees, running his hand over the tattered leather. It’shard to say, really. I’ve had Kirsdarke for so long now that I can’t remember that element not being a part of me. I’ve always felt the sea in my blood, even as a child. My family were seafarers by and large, and so it comes naturally., I guess.” Rhapsody waited for him to go on, but instead he went to the hearth and picked up the fire iron. She shifted in the chair; it was so old and the fabric so threadbare that it was difficult for her to sit upright. So what do you want from me now?” she asked.

Ashe bent to stir the embers of the fire, and as he did she felt a thrill run up her back, as though his ministrations to the flames were being applied to her body, she felt a moment’s panic, then realized almost immediately that it was a function of her communion with the fire rather than anything he was doing intentionally. She concentrated on separating herself from it as he replaced the screen and turned to face her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” Rhapsody answered, sipping her tea, “you have been after me for weeks to yield the information I just gave you about my Cymrian lineage. It has seeded very important to you, so now that you’ve broken me down and you have your answer, I’d like to know what you plan to do with the knowledge. What do you want from us? From me?” Nothing you aren’t prepared to give.”

Rhapsody sighed. “You know, I don’t make a very good Cymrian, and I certainly don’t much like being one. You people can’t answer a question directly to save your lives.”

Ashe smiled in spite of himself. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I know it’s annoying, but it comes from centuries of breeding, from paranoia and distrust cast in the forge of a terrible war, Rhapsody. They’re all like that, I’m afraid, and I am among the worst.”

“I can tell. I mean, how many people walk around by choice in a cloak of mist hiding from the eyes of the world?”

Blue eyes of startling intensity met her own. “Who said it was by choice?”

She was unable to break his gaze or to say anything for a moment. “I’m sorry,” she said when she could finally speak again. “I had a sense when you first showed me your face that it wasn’t.”

“Why?”

Rhapsody considered her answer. Until the moment he had lifted his hood and let her look at him, she had assumed he was malformed in some way, the victim of an accident or a battle injury, or perhaps of a difficult birth. She had felt an affinity for him because of it; she sometimes felt that way herself, knew the desire to shield her countenance from the stares and gawking looks that often came her way in the street.

She had examined her face at great length in the glass, trying to determine what was so unusual about it, coming finally to the conclusion that her Liringlas blood had produced a visage in her that the people of this land were not used to seeing, or found to be alien. Even though she didn’t consider herself ugly, the stares sometimes made her feel that way.

But Ashe was not ugly. On the contrary, there was a beauty to his face, a handsomeness that could be seen even through the scraggly beard and unkempt hair. He had an aristocratic look to him, despite his simple clothes and the muscularity of his body; he was obviously a man who had wandered far, as evidenced by the long, strong sinew in his legs. His shoulders were broad and his waist narrow, like a man who had labored on a farm or chopped wood, and his hands had seen hard work and hard times. And Rhapsody knew, from the moment she beheld him, that the misty screen was a necessity, not a measure of vanity. She knew he was hunted, sought by predators with extensive reach and power. Seeing the terrible black wound on his chest only served to confirm that belief. And in her heart she hurt for him, even though she did not really know him.

The sound of pounding rain could be heard on the turf roof, and air of the room became damp. “You never answered my question,” she said finally. “What do you want from me now, if anything?”

He went to the bed and sat down, giving her a studied look. “It would certainly be nice to have you as an ally. Your friends as well, but you especially.”

“Why me in particular?”

He smiled slightly. “You seem a good person to be with in a fight.”

Rhapsody laughed. “Well, thank you, but you are a poor judge of fighters. If YOU have to go up against something hostile, you want Grunthor if you can get him. Or, better yet, Achmed.”

“Why Achmed?”

“Achmed is—well, Achmed is—talented.” She decided she had said too much already. “Before I can be your ally, I have to know what you’re fighting. Can you tell me?”

“No.” His word was abrupt, sweeping the smiles from both of their faces. “Sorry.”

“Well, that does make it a little difficult to agree to be your ally.”

“I know.” He sighed heavily. “Do you trust anyone enough to tell them?”

“No.”

“What an awful way to live.” She ran her finger around the rim of the mug of tea, all but empty now. “Don’t you think there are some things worth the risk, the gamble?” Her voice was gentle.

“I’m not a gambling man, I’m afraid. Not anymore.” A stillness descended, thick and palpable. Rhapsody cast a glance at the fire, snapping and hissing within the grate, then looked back at Ashe, the strange vertical pupils of his eyes accentuated by its light. There was a look in those eyes she could not identify, but it filled her with a sadness that squeezed her heart.

“Do you at least leave the door open to the possibility?” she asked. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Rhapsody stared into her teacup, then took another sip. “My past is a corridor of doors I left open, never meaning to close them. I never closed a door if I didn’t have to, in the hope that things would be right again one day if I only left the chance open. Maybe you aren’t ready to gamble now, to trust anyone with your secrets, but perhaps one day you will be. Is that possible?” Ashe looked into the fire. After a long moment he spoke. “I don’t think so. I believe that door is not only closed, but locked and bolted. And sealed shut.”

Silence thudded between them. Rhapsody set her teacup down. “Then I guess we had best stand by our bargain and try to avoid talking about the Past,” she said gently. “Agreed.”

“Perhaps it’s better if I tell you in broad terms what I’m willing to fight to support, and then, if your agenda fits into that, you will know that I’m your ally, even if you can’t state your cause.”

His face brightened a little, and the vertical pupils twinkled. “That would work.”

“Right. First, if you are planning to assault the Bolg or wrest the mountain from Achmed, we will be fighting each other.”

“No. Not at all.”

“Well, I thought not, but one never knows. Anyone planning to harm a child in any way is my enemy; likewise any innocent person or Lirin holy tree or forest. I would like to see peace take a lasting hold. I am generally on the side of the defender, not the aggressor, unless I have a good reason not to be. I will castrate any rapist or child molester I catch in the attempt.

“Other than that, I may build myself a goat hut in the forest one day, if the Lirin will accept me, and live there in peace, not harming anyone, puttering with my plants and working on my music. Someday I’d like to build or help build a healing place and use my music to treat illness or injury, and teach others to do so. As I’ve told you before, I doubt I will survive these dangerous times, so I don’t hold out much hope for the longer goals. I expect to go down doing something I believe will make the world better in one way or another. So, am I your ally?”

Ashe was smiling. “It sounds like it.”

Rhapsody looked seriously at him. “And would you tell me if I was not?”

“Probably not.”

She sighed. “I didn’t think so.” Thunder rumbled in the distance. “So is that all that you want?”

Many emotions passed over Ashe’s face, but when he spoke his words were simple. “I would like have you as my friend.”

“I’d like that as well,” she answered, putting her feet up on the end of his bed. “And, as long as you really are what you seem, I think I am.”

“And are you really what you seem?”

She laughed. “Totally. I don’t know what I seem to be, but anything I am is out in the open. I’m afraid I’ve never learned to hide my faults, and I’m very unsophisticated. You know I try never to lie if I am not forced to.”

He looked interested. “How can one be forced to lie?”

Rhapsody thought back to Michael, the Wind of Death, and the cruel gleam in his eyes as he laid his terms out to her.

Tou will want me, too, and tell me so. You will not only meet my needs, you will engage in their succor willingly, with relish. Tou will make love to me with your words, as well as all your other attributes. Now, can you do that? Can you promise me a reciprocal situation?

She closed her eyes and tried to block out the memory of the child’s screams of fright.

All right, Michael, I’ll say whatever you want. Let her go.

Rhapsody crossed her arms over her waist. She thought about the victorious smile on Michael’s face; either she would be truthfully telling him what he wanted to hear, or she would have to lie, a fate far worse. Either way, he won.

“Take my word for it; one can be,” she said finally. Her eyes met Ashe’s, and she caught her breath. He had the same crystalline blue irises as Michael had had.

“Is something wrong?”

She shook her head, and as she did, the thoughts cleared out of her mind. Michael may have had the same blue eyes, but they were certainly not slit vertically. Perhaps whatever odd nature caused his strange ocular formation was part of why Ashe was hunted.

“No,” she said. “Nothing is wrong.” She drained the rest of her tea and put the cup down on the table next to her chair. “I just hope you never find yourself in the position of being forced to lie. It’s one of the worst things in the world. Anyway, I guess the things you want are possible. I will try to be your friend, and your ally. I can’t speak for Grunthor or Achmed, but if I put in a good word for you, as long as they don’t object to whatever action you are undertaking, they will probably be willing to ally themselves with you as well.” She watched Ashe’s face wrinkle in something that appeared to be disgust. “What?”

“Sorry,” Ashe said, looking contrite. “Sometimes it amazes me that you have anything to do with those two, especially Achmed.”

“Why?”

“He’s a repulsive person, that’s why.”

Rhapsody bristled. “You don’t even know him. How can you say that?”

“I have been the recipient of his hospitality twice now, and I can’t say that I enjoyed it much either time.”

“I’m very sorry,” Rhapsody said sincerely. “He can be a bit abrasive. Why did you stay?”

Ashe went back to the fire and gave it another stir. It seemed unwilling to participate fully in warming the room. “You and Jo were pleasant enough to be around. And when you mentioned Elynsynos, I knew I could help you find her. I’m one of the few living foresters who has ever approached her lair.”

She sat up at his mention of the word forester. “You’re an official forester?” He nodded. “Were you trained at Llauron’s?”

“Yes.”

“I’ve been there! What a lovely man he is. Did you have much direct instruction from him?”

Ashe replaced the screen. “Some. Generally Llauron doesn’t do too much of the forester training himself, he leaves that to Gavin, with occasional help from Lark.”

“Yes, I met them, too. Lark taught me a good deal about herbalism. I’m sorry; I got us off the topic. Achmed is really not that bad. He is rough around the edges, and he has an interesting perspective on the world, but he is a good person to know. He and I actually have a great deal in common.”

Ashe shuddered. “Short of being Cymrians of the First Generation, I can’t think of anything.”

“I didn’t say Achmed was a First Generation Cymrian—you’re inferring that. For one thing, both our appearances seem to rile the sensibilities of the people of this land.”

Ashe stared at her in amazement. “What?”

“Yes, in case you haven’t noticed, we both tend to walk about in hooded cloaks because when we don’t, we get stared at or worse.”

He shook his head in amazement. She had no idea why she was getting the reactions she was. Even though he was aware of this before, the realization never ceased to bewilder him. “Achmed is an ugly person.”

She was beginning to grow angry. “How judgmental you are! It’s foolish to assume a person’s appearance is the same as his personality.”

“I was referring to his personality.”

“As I said, you don’t know him.”

He leaned back on the wall next to the fireplace. “You never did answer my question about you and he.”

“What question?”

“About whether you would mate with Achmed—I mean marry him.” The words caused a large knot in his throat that Rhapsody could almost see.

“Maybe,” she said. “We certainly haven’t discussed it. He might be horrified at the thought. As I told you, I don’t expect to marry anyone, but if I were to live that long, he’s probably my best prospect.” Ashe looked sick. “Why?”

Rhapsody drew her knees up to her chest. “Well, let’s see; he knows more about me than anyone else in the world, he understands my strengths and weaknesses, and he doesn’t seem to be put off by my appearance.”

“Rhapsody, no one is put off by your appearance.”

She ignored the comment. “And I don’t think he would expect the things from marriage that others might.”

“Such as?”

“Love, for instance. Achmed is aware of the fact that I am without a heart, and it doesn’t seem to bother him. I think he would be satisfied with what I am limited by, and what I would be able to share. This is speaking theoretically, of course. As I told you, we have never talked about it.”

“I don’t know, Rhapsody, but it seems a shame to me that you would limit yourself at all in your expectations of that relationship you claim to hold in high esteem.”

She was growing annoyed again. “What difference does it make? I mean, why are you the custodian of my marital prospects?”

Ashe turned away. It was far more difficult to talk to her without the anonymity afforded by the mist cloak’s hood. “I’m not.”

“I find it strange that you really seem upset by the prospect of my loveless marriage.”

He turned and looked at her directly. “I’m surprised you’re not. You say you have a great respect for the institution.”

Rhapsody considered his words. “Fair enough. I guess that applies in my mind only to those who have the capability to enter into a loving one.”

“And you are not one of them?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

She sighed and stared at the fire, now beginning to catch. “I am forsworn, prohibited from it.”

Ashe sat down on the bed across from her. “Why? Are you a member of a celibate religious order?”

Rhapsody choked, then laughed. “Hardly.”

“Then why?”

Rhapsody looked down at her hands. “Back in the old land, I traded my ability to ever love that way for something I wanted to protect.”

“Which was?”

“A child,” Rhapsody answered. She looked up and mild surprise was on her face; she had a hard time believing she was answering his questions so easily, as he was the first person she had ever told about it.

Ashe looked down, not meeting her eyes. “You had a child?”

“Not of my own, but I wanted to protect her anyway.” Ashe nodded. Rhapsody thought she sensed relief, but he said nothing. “Anyway, I vowed I would never love anyone else, and I have kept my word.”

“Anyone other than the child?”

“No, I guess I’m not explaining this correctly. I gave my word to a man that I would never love another until the world ended.”

“And who was this man that you loved? What happened to him?” Rhapsody grimaced. “I never said I loved him. He was a pig.”

“You’re losing me; why did you vow to love a pig?”

She sighed. “All right; let’s go over it again, since it seems to be important to you. The most reprehensible, evil, cruel bastard I have ever known had possession of an innocent child that he would have raped repeatedly and butchered if I didn’t intervene. I vowed, in return for her safety, never to love anyone else, and I haven’t. I never said I loved him.”

“Not until the end of the world, right?”

“Right.”

“That’s a hefty oath to give to someone like that.”

“Well, I guess it depends on what the likelihood was that I would find love I wanted anyway.”

“And you didn’t expect to?”

“No. It really was not a big sacrifice.”

A warm smile crossed Ashe’s face, and he rose from the bed and came to Rhapsody, crouching down before her. “I have wonderful news for you.”

“What’s that?”

“If you should ever decide that you do want to love someone again, you can, free and clear, without breaking your oath.”

“How do you calculate that?”

“Because you vowed not to love again until the end of the world?”

“Yes.”

“Well, guess what, Rhapsody? Your world did end; it’s been gone more than a thousand years. You’re free of him, and any promises to him.”

Tears welled up in Rhapsody’s eyes for more reasons than she could count. Ashe reached out and took her hands comfortingly, anticipating her allowing the tears to fall. But, as required, she choked them back, struggling with intense effort against giving herself over to her sorrow and the relief that his words had stirred inside her. Ashe stared at the contortions of her face in its battle against the tears, and he reached up to touch the corner of her eye, only to be pushed away.

“Don’t,” she whispered. She looked away. “I’ll be all right in a moment.”

“You don’t have to be,” Ashe said gently. “It’s all right, Rhapsody; you can let it down now. You’re safe here. Have a good cry. You look like you need one desperately.”

“I can’t,” she said quietly. “I’m not allowed to.”

“Allowed by whom?”

“Achmed. He forbade it.”

Ashe laughed unpleasantly. “You’re joking.” She shook her head. “You’re not joking? What a lovely person he is. Look, Rhapsody, crying is not a sign of weakness.”

“I know,” she said, blinking to drive the moisture from her eyes. “It’s annoying.”

“Annoying to Achmed? Tempest take him, he’s not here. If you need to cry, cry. It will not annoy me in the least.”

Rhapsody smiled. “Thank you, but I don’t need to. I’m fine.”

Ashe shook his head. “No, you’re not. I’m a minor expert on salt water, be it sea water or tears; an effect of the sword, you know. I can assure you that the body and the soul both need the cleansing that comes with tears. The blood is far cleaner and healthier afterward. I would think Achmed would know that if anyone would.” Rhapsody’s eyes narrowed slightly at the comment, and Ashe hurried on. “If you have been withholding the natural action of weeping all these centuries, given the amount of grief you have undoubtedly experienced in that time, you are not just doing yourself a disservice, you are doing yourself harm. Please, Rhapsody, I can hold you if it would help.”

Her eyes went to the monstrous wound beneath his shirt, and she flinched at the memory of the pain she had inadvertently caused him with the embrace she had given him in the forest. “No, thank you. I appreciate the offer, however.”

“Or I could leave for a while, take a walk, if you like.”

“No, thank you,” she repeated, firmly this time. “I really am fine, and you don’t need to be soaked to the skin. What you could do for me is to pass me the lute Elynsynos gave me. Would you like to hear it?”

Ashe rose and went to the closet where she had stored her gear. “I would love to. Are you sure you—”

“Yes,” Rhapsody said, taking the instrument when he held it out to her. “What would you like to hear?”

He sighed, and decided to let the matter drop. “Do you know any songs of the sea from the old world?”

“A few,” she said, smiling, thinking of Elynsynos. “Some of my family were seafarers too. A minarello really is a better instrument for that, but I’ll do the best I can.” She tuned the lute and began to play. The strings were am but the dragon’s magic had held them in perfect condition, and 't mellowed since its carving into a sweet, rich sound that resonated in the i

Ashe stretched out on the bed, listening to her play, enraptured. She no idea of the depth of his feelings, even without the protection his f; longer had from his hood. He let the music creep into his head and win way through his heart, soothing the constantly throbbing pain a b the headache that had been brewing since the discussion of Achmed. was so beautiful, airy and ethereal, like the singing of the wind, and him drowsy. He would have given the remainder of his soul at that if she would only stay for a few more days, singing to him alone, open heart she said she didn’t have.

After a few sea chanteys she stopped singing and let the music ( through the lute alone, a haunting melody that made him feel immensely *** He felt on the verge of tears himself when a discordant note rang out, ja him out of his reverie. Rhapsody blinked, then played the passage continuing on until the next wrong note. Then she stopped altogether

Ashe sat up and looked across the room at her. She was asleep in tl her fingers still on the lute strings. He thought about carrying her to tl but the scene at the Tar’afel rose quickly up in his mind, and he discarded the thought immediately. Instead he got up and slid the lute out of her hands, setting it on the table, and then covered her with one of the blankets. She sighed in her sleep and turned over on her side in the chair.

Ashe looked at the black velvet ribbon. He longed to unbind her hair, but decided that would be intrusive as well. So he put another log on the fire burning quietly and steadily, then went back to the chair where Rhapsody He stared down at her for a long while, enjoying the picture of her, asleep in the firelight. After almost an hour he felt exhaustion overtake him. 1 her a soft kiss on the head and slipped in between the covers of the 1 knowing it would not be long before she woke in the night, sobbing u

When she did, he went to her in the dark and whispered words of comfort until she grew quiet again. The pounding storm had given way to a steady, insistent rain. Reluctantly he returned to bed and left her to her dreams.