Prophecy: Child of Earth

19

The border watchers of Tyrian had been following her for more than an hour when Rhapsody finally decided to call a halt to the game. She had been aware of their notice, several miles after she and Ashe had parted. They had come down silently from the trees, unseen, to observe her as she walked, whistling, through their forest. She had expected them to show themselves fairly early on, but instead they moved silently behind her, covering the ground with no more disturbance than the wind. If she hadn’t been in tune with the song of the forest she would never have known they were there.

Finally she stopped in the middle of the forest path. “If you’re concerned about my presence here, come out and greet me,” she said, looking at the four different spots she knew they were standing, hidden. “My intentions are peaceful.”

After a moment one of the guards came out, a tall, broad-shouldered Lirin woman with eyes the same color as her fawn-brown hair. Those eyes were large and almond-shaped, her body lithe and long of line, with skin that bore the marks of the sun and the elements in its hue; she was a perfect specimen of her race. She had been standing in the spot where Rhapsody’s gaze had come to rest.

“I am Cedelia,” she said in Orlandan, the common tongue of Roland. “Are you looking for something in particular?”

“Yes, actually,” Rhapsody answered, smiling. “I have come to see Oelendra.”

The woman’s face betrayed no reaction. “You be in the wrong part of Tyrian for that.”

“Well, can I get there from here?”

“Eventually,” answered Cedelia. She moved slightly, and Rhapsody saw she was returning an arrow to her quiver. Rhapsody had not seen the bow until just then. “You be more th-in a week’s journey away. ’Twill be easiest if you head west through Tyrian City. Who are you?”

The Singer bowed slightly. “My name is Rhapsody,” she answered respectfully. “If it would be preferable to you, we can speak in the Lirin tongue.”

“Whichever language you are more comfortable with is fine.” The Lirin woman’s face betrayed none of the hostility that Rhapsody had seen humans occasionally exhibit toward those of mixed blood. She leaned to the east slightly and emitted a series of birdlike whistles. Rhapsody heard a faint rustling in the trees and nothing more. “I will escort you as far as Tyrian City.”

“Thank you,” Rhapsody said. “It will be good to have a guide.” Cedelia gestured to a barely visible trail off the forest path, and Rhapsody followed her into the greenwood, amid the sounds of birdsong and the wind in the trees of Tyrian.

They walked in virtual silence for the entire journey. Rhapsody tried several times to make conversation, and though Cedelia answered her pleasantly, she never sought to continue the dialogue. Eventually Rhapsody recalled that her mother tended to only speak when there was a need to say something significant, too, so she lapsed into a state of quiet contentment, satisfied to observe the beauty of spring as it came to the forest.

The leaves were in full bud now, lacy foliage appearing with the eagerness of a toddler’s smile, green and silver, fresh from the long sleep of winter. Rhapsody felt her heart opening as she passed through the woods, following her silent chaperone. There was something renewing about being here, in the land of her mother’s people, though the Lirin of the wood were not Liringlas, as her mother had been. It was an honesty, a simplicity about the life they led; each village they passed seemed fruitful and peaceful, the people they encountered were pleasant and seemed to treat each other well. There was joy here, or something close to it. Tyrian felt like paradise. Rhapsody felt her inner fire grow steadily day by day.

Cedelia sat the watch each night. Rhapsody had offered to share it with her, but she had politely declined, citing no need for sleep. Rhapsody’s own need for sleep was less than that of her Bolg friends, and far less than Jo’s, but even she required a few hours’ rest, where Cedelia did not. So each night she climbed awkwardly into her bedroll, feeling the eyes of her guardian escort on her. She hoped she would be more welcome at Oelendra’s.

On the fourth day it rained, heavy, pelting rain that stung as it fell. Even Cedelia felt the need to take shelter from the storm, and led Rhapsody into a cottage that she would not have seen had it not been pointed out to her. Inside it was sparsely furnished with a few cots and tables, and stores of dried food. Cedelia pried open a chest and offered Rhapsody some salted venison strips. She accepted so as not to appear rude. Finally she decided to attempt conversation once more.

“What is this place?”

Cedelia looked up over her food. “One of the houses of the border watchers.”

“It’s cleverly hidden. I wouldn’t have seen it.”

“Tis the point; you’re not supposed to.”

Rhapsody wilted under the cool tone. “Have I done something to offend you, Cedelia?”

“I know not. Have you?” The fawn-colored eyes narrowed slightly; otherwise her expression didn’t change. She took another bite of meat,

“I don’t understand,” Rhapsody said, color rushing to her cheeks. “Please explain what you mean, Cedelia. We’ve been traveling together for four days and I still have no idea what’s bothering you.”

Cedelia put down her food. “You were seen with a man in a hooded gray cloak five days ago at the Outer Forest lip.” Rhapsody looked puzzled. “Yes.”

“Who was that?”

Her heart began to pound. “Why?”

“Because a man in a hooded gray cloak led a raid on a Lirin village on the eastern edge of the Outer Forest lip that same night. The settlement was burned to the ground.”

Rhapsody leapt to her feet. “ What?”

Like lightning a bow was pointed at her heart, the arrow nocked. “Sit down.” Rhapsody obeyed. “Fourteen men, six women, and three children perished in that raid.”

Rhapsody began to tremble. “Gods.”

“Hardly; try again.” Venom dripped from Cedelia’s voice. “Who was that man?”

“His name is Ashe.” Her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Ashe? Ashe what?”

Rhapsody looked out the window at the greenwood. “I don’t know.”

“Do you always kiss people you don’t know?”

She looked back at Cedelia. “No.”

Cedelia nocked a second arrow on the string next to the first one. “Why are you really here?”

Rhapsody’s glance hardened. “I told you the truth. I’m looking for Oelendra.” Cedelia continued to stare at her. “What are you going to do now?”

“I told you the truth as well. I am escorting you as far as Tyrian City. What happens after that will be up to Rial to decide.” en they left the house of the border watchers Cedelia returned the arrows to her quiver and slung her bow across her back.

“You are being covered from all angles. ’Twould be decidedly unwise for you to try anything untoward.”

Rhapsody sighed. Her vision of paradise had dimmed considerably with the knowledge that they had been followed all along, that the Lirin thought she might be responsible for the heinous attack on the village. She could not allow herself to even think about Ashe.

In the first joyful hours of her walk when she was alone, communing with the forest through her music, she had learned much about the place. The forest of Tyrian was more than a hundred miles wide east to west; it was closer to two hundred going north to south. On its western edge it bordered the sea, running north to the Roland seaside province of Avonderre and south to the lands of the Lirinwer, the plains Lirin.

The wonderful impression she had of the attitude and plight of the Lirin who lived in Tyrian appeared to be borne out by what she had learned from the wood itself. It seemed macabre that she was now a virtual prisoner of unseen jailers, on her way to judgment by someone named Rial. Elynsynos had certainly not mentioned him, nor had Ashe. At the thought of Ashe Rhapsody went cold again.

“This way,” said Cedelia politely. Rhapsody shouldered her pack and followed her down the muddy trail, rainwater dripping off the new leaves like tears.

Two more days of silent travel through thick vegetation brought them in sight of the city. Rhapsody had seen the guard towers long before she realized what they were; a wall of ancient heveralt trees, a cousin species to tl White Tree, had been set on a hill-like rise and reinforced with a wide stone and wood barricade at their bases, from which ladders ascended into forms that connected their upper canopies.

The wall stretched north for as far as she could see, giving her the impress that the size of Tyrian City as akin to that of Easton. Before ^ wall ay a wide and steeply sided ditch, slick moss coating the bottom. Hundreds of I guards, men and women, traversed the connected aerial pbtformj»thi trees as effortlessly as walking on the earth. The sight filled Rhapsody wi wonder and sadness. The possibility that she would ever be welcome marvelous place was becoming more remote by the moment[...]

Half a mile or so outside the clearing that surrounded the city, Cedelia a turn off course and led her into another hidden structure similar to the bord, watcher’s house. It was larger and better appointed inside, with no sleeping bunks but several long tables and many chairs. The windows each contained a mounted crossbow stand and windowbox-like vessels that held hundreds of bolts. A weapons rack with impressive contents took up the rest of the wall that the door was in. Cedelia drew forth her bow and nocked an arrow, holding the weapon ready but not pointing it at her.

“Take a seat,” she said.

Rhapsody laid down her own bow and removed her pack, dropping it onto the table. She pulled out a roughhewn pine chair and sat down, sighing heavily.

They waited that way, Rhapsody and her guard, for more than an hour. Just when she was about to ask for water the door opened and a tall, silver-haired man came into the longhouse. He wore the same forest-colored clothing as Cedelia, with a dark red cape and a polished wood buckle on his belt. His face was lined with age but tanned and healthy, and his eyes smiled as he looked at her. He turned to her guard and nodded politely.

“Thank you, Cedelia.” Cedelia slung her bow and returned her arrow to the quiver on her back. She took her leave silently and quickly, closing the door behind her.

The man crossed the room and came to a halt in front of her. “How do you do?” he said, extending a hand to her and assisting her in her effort to rise. “I am Rial. I hope Cedelia has treated you well.”

“Yes, thank you. My name is Rhapsody.”

Rial looked her over intently but in a way she did not feel invaded by. Then he released her hand and pulled out a chair next to the one she had been sitting in. Rhapsody sank into her seat again, her back aching at the hardness of the wood. “You have a beautiful voice,” Rial said as he sat down.

Rhapsody looked at him in surprise. “Excuse me?”

“I heard you singing a week or so ago, at least I assume that was you.”

“You have been following us?”

“Nay,” said Rial with a smile. “I’ve been here in Tyrian City. There are some things that transcend distance in Tyrian. Music of the kind you were making is one of them.”

Rhapsody flushed with embarrassment. “Does that mean everyone heard me, or just you?”

His smile grew warmer. “I’m afraid ’twas everyone. ’Tis nothing to be embarrassed about. It may have been the forest’s way of telling its people something they need to know. Tyrian is more than a wood, ’tis a living entity; it has a soul. Your music delighted the soul of Tyrian in a way it never has been before. Tyrian decided to share it with its people.”

Rhapsody ran a hand awkwardly over her hair. “Well, I’ll try to keep that in mind before I open my mouth again.”

“I hope you won’t,” said Rial. “ ’Twould be a shame if you became self-conscious about something that might be useful to the people of your blood. You are Liringlas, are you not?”

“My mother was.”

“Aye, I thought as much. Well, ’tis an honor to meet you then, Rhapsody. I have only seen Liringlas visitors once before, when some of Cymrian descent came from Manosse to pay homage to the Great White Tree and stopped to pay a visit to Queen Terrell.”

“Queen Terrell is the ruler here, then?”

“She was,” said Rial, his dark eyes shining. “She has been dead three hundred years now. Her son’s reign has come and gone as well; he died quite young, leaving no heir.

“At the moment the Lirin have no sovereign. I serve as Lord Protector. There are three others who serve as liaisons to each of the other Lirin factions that were subject to the queen as well, the Lirinwer of the plains to the southeast, the sea-Lirin to the southwest, and the Manossian contingent. The Manossians have their own government, but see themselves ultimately as subjects of Tyrian, or at least they did when there was a ruler. Now we are a fragmented people, almost as divided as Roland. ’Tis a shame, really.”

Rhapsody didn’t know what to say. She had expected to be interrogated for the murderous act of pillage that Cedelia quizzed her about, and instead she was receiving a lesson in Tyrian politics from the Lord Protector himself. Her forehead came to rest in her hand, her elbow on the table.

Rial rose and went to the door. He whistled a strange trill, and a moment later a guard came with a skin of water. Rial thanked him and brought it to her.

“Here; I can see you are overwhelmed. Why don’t you have a drink and rest for a moment?”

Rhapsody accepted the skin, smiling. “Thank you. You’re right; I am overwhelmed. I’m horribly sorry to hear about the raid on the Lirin village, but I didn’t have anything to do with it, I really didn’t.”

Rial nodded. “I didn’t think that you did. These border incursions have been going on for years, Rhapsody; your arrival in Tyrian had unfortunate timing. What can you tell me about your companion?”

Rhapsody thought for a moment. She was still unsure, after all these months in this new land, whom she should trust. Ashe had asked her to be his ally, and yet if she had inadvertently led him into Tyrian and he was guilty of the raid, she was responsible as well. She owed it to the people of her blood to help them find the aggressor.

On the other hand, if for some reason Rial and the Lirin were involved in something corrupt, something to do with the demon Elynsynos spoke of, she might be responsible for delivering an innocent man into evil hands. Lord Stephen had said that his wife had died in a brutal raid at Lirin hands. Achmed’s policy of total isolation, trusting none but themselves, was looking better all the time.

“Not much that’s accurate, I’m afraid. He calls himself Ashe. He guided me here from Ylorc—er, Canrif. He has done nothing to harm me, or anyone else in my time with him. He always walks hooded and cloaked. I have no plans to see him again.”

Rial nodded again. “And why is it that you have come to Tyrian now?”

“I am looking for Oelendra.”

“Would you mind if I asked the reason?”

Rhapsody looked at him directly. “No, I don’t mind. I’m hoping she will train me in the sword.”

Rial leaned back and looked thoughtful. “And how did you come to hear about Oelendra? She does not commonly train those outside of Tyrian anymore.”

Rhapsody thought of Elynsynos and smiled to herself. “Someone thought she would be the best person to train me in the sword I carry.”

“You have a unique kind of sword?”

“Yes.”

“Interesting. I am a bit of an aficionado of the sword myself. May I see it?”

Rhapsody considered the wisdom of fulfilling his request, then decided to grant it. She prepared herself in case she had to fight her way out of the longhouse. Rial looked like a formidable adversary, and she would probably have to unleash all of her fire lore to get by him.

“Very well,” she said, and drew Daystar Clarion.

The sword came forth with a blinding flash that filled the cabin with stark white light, then settled into the flames that licked up the glowing blade. Rial’s eyes opened wide in shock and he rose slowly to his feet, unable to take his eyes off the weapon.

“Daystar Clarion,” he said. His voice was filled with awe.

“Yes.”

After a long moment he tore his eyes away from the sword and stared at her. “You are the Iliachenva’ar.”

“I believe so, if that’s what this sword’s bearer is called,” Rhapsody said, trying not to sound flippant.

Rial lapsed into amazed silence again. Finally he spoke.

“I will take you to Oelendra now.”