The Key of the Keplian

by Andre Norton

  They marched with a slow, wary care. But the passages remained light, the traps unsprung, if traps there were. Nor did the distance seem as far. It was only Romar’s weakness that slowed them. He had to rest often. Each time was an opportunity to catch up on what their friends had done.

  Tharna spoke for the Keplians, as usual. *We waited, but you did not return. The signal came, so that we knew our kin would have ceased to hold that one’s attention at the river. When you still came not, we became anxious for you. The door in the outer tower wall was yet open, so we entered. Some of the passages were too small for us, but we could follow others. We could feel our sister, and that tie we followed until we reached the place where you confronted the evil one.*

  “You did not pass through a great cave far below?”

  The mare looked surprised. *No, we moved upward always. It took little time before we found you.*

  The humans blinked at each other with interest. This place was a maze, Eleeri thought. You really could get there from here—and anywhere else, too, it seemed. Not that it mattered much; she’d be delighted if she never saw the tower again, let alone tramped its endless corridors. They came to another just as Romar stumbled, dragging her almost to the ground as she sought to hold him up. They rested a little then Tharna poked a sly nose at her. *I could carry your mate for a while, if he would permit?*

  She had not mind-sent to Eleeri alone, so that all turned to stare, first at the mare, then at the blushing woman.

  Jerrany grinned. “Ha, spring has come early, it seems.” His wife flung herself at Romar and Eleeri, almost sending them to the ground again. Jerrany’s hand caught them, lending a moment’s strength.

  “Careful, Mayrin, or he won’t be in any shape for a wedding.”

  Eleeri’s blush deepened. “Hoi, I haven’t been asked; don’t let anyone’s mounts run away with them.”

  “Not been asked, eh? Romar must be getting slow in his old age.”

  Romar straightened. “Thank you, brother. I can speak for myself.” His eyes sought her face and read the answer to his wonderings. Gently, he took her hand and pulled her to front him. “Would you consider a man who has nothing? I can bring no lands, no wealth; I have little of the power, and no one has ever called me handsome. Nor am I any longer so young. I might have some possessions, did I return to my father’s keep and bow to him. But that I will not do, even for love.”

  “Nor would I wish you to!” Eleeri broke in hotly. “Mayrin told me all about it. He’s a fool not to see what sort of a son he had.”

  Romar’s eyes lit up. “I have nothing,” he warned again.

  “You have strength and courage, intelligence and sense. What more do you need?” Her face turned away a little shyly. “I understand you are supposed to wed for lands here. I can bring those, but they are half yours already.” She watched as he peered at her in bewilderment.

  “Let’s take Tharna up on her offer. I’ll explain as we move.” They marched on, with Eleeri talking, telling of her journey into the mist and the tale as it had been told to her. At the end he drew a deep breath.

  “So this canyon and keep are ours by birthright?”

  “So our far-kin said.”

  He reached down for her hand. “I would not wish to live there alone, nor to drive you out.” His voice faltered. “I am no great catch, so my father assured me. Yet if you would share my life and all else, I would love you. I—I do love you, my most valiant lady.” He was forcing his words now. He had spoken lightly to women before, but never seriously. Never opening his heart to one for whom he cared as he did for this slender gray-eyed daughter of another people.

  “You’re sure you don’t just want to have things convenient? The keep is half yours, and—”

  His hands shot out to grab her shoulders. His distress gave him sudden strength so that he shook her a little. “No, I do not want to have things conveniently arranged. I love you! If you don’t love me, if you don’t want me, then the lands are yours. I’ll remain with Mayrin and Jerrany. I know I have so little to offer; I know—” It was his turn to halt as he realized that her eyes were alight with laughter.

  “I believe you, I believe you. Just don’t shake me to death. It’d be a poor start to a betrothal.”

  “You will—I mean, you really do—you’re sure you—”

  Eleeri put a gentle hand over his mouth. “I mean, I love you, I will wed you, and will you stop talking long enough to kiss me?” There was a long silence, broken only by whoops of approval from their friends.

  As they broke apart, Tharna pushed her nose curiously toward her kin-sister. *Does this mean you’ll foal now?* she queried.

  Eleeri started giggling helplessly, joined by Romar and his kin.

  “Give me a chance, Keplian,” Romar found breath to answer.

  *I am Tharna.*

  “Thank you. Then give me a chance, Tharna, and my thanks also for carrying me. As for foal”—he smiled down into Eleeri’s eyes—“I think there may be a foal or two in years to come. Just don’t rush us.”

  The mare nodded, starting to walk on. Eleeri walked beside her, her fingers tight within Romar’s hand.

  All journeys must end, and this one did so into bright sun. Romar shaded his eyes and allowed himself to slip from the broad back onto the sweet-scented grass. He dug his fingers into the earth, studying the brown, crumbling soil in his hand. He’d feared he would never see this again. But beyond hope, on the other shore of despair, one had come to bear him back. No, not one alone; his sister, his sword-brother, and, beyond belief as well, four Keplians. He grinned, laying back on the soft grass.

  “I think I’m dreaming all this.”

  Eleeri dropped down beside him. “Then dream this, too.” She laid her mouth against his, kissing him with love and passion.

  He grinned, folding his arms about her and returning the kiss. Then Jerrany cried out, looking upward. As they spun to follow his look, they saw that the tower was slowly crumbling. The top eroded, the door through which they had entered and departed slammed shut. Behind it they could hear stone falling in a long, slow rumble that echoed far into the distance, as if it receded into immeasurable dimensions.

  “I think it best we leave here,” Jerrany muttered.

  There was no disagreement with that as they scrambled onto Keplian backs. At a steady canter, they swept over the plains toward the mountains. There was no hesitation; Romar was not fit to be aught else but abed for a while. They would return to the lake keep until his health and strength returned. This they did, as Mayrin and Jerrany rode on to the Valley of the Green Silences to make report of events and reclaim their children.

  They returned with pack ponies and a tail of riders. Eleeri flew out to meet them, Romar at her heels. “It’s good to see you back, sister. But what’s all this? Have you looted someone’s hold?”

  Her sister-to-be laughed. “No, but we paid a visit to my father.” She giggled as her brother’s head came up sharply. “We dropped hints about Romar’s wealthy bride and how she had lands and a keep. He said that he would not be shamed before you. So he—ah—sent a few things as bride gifts.”

  Eleeri surveyed the pack ponies with awe and amusement. “Just how much of this is for us, then?”

  Jerrany, too, was smiling widely. “All of it. It isn’t as much as it looks, mostly bulk rather than riches, but I think you’ll find it all useful. The ponies should go back, both of them, and you could add a few of those furs of yours as a kin-gift in return.”

  She nodded. The last load she’d brought here had been hides and weapons from the ancient keep armory. There were still many furs safely held in the canyon, well cured and tanned in a variety of sizes and types. Out here they had little value, save to be used. But in the valley, surrounded by more civilized holds and holdings where such furs were no longer obtainable, they were of greater worth. She could make up a pack of the finest, including several of the rasti pelts. That would make eyes open.

  Meanwhile, Mayrin had
seized her brother’s arm. “How are you? Are you completely well? You still look pale. Are you eating enough?”

  He hugged her. “I am well, I eat like a snowbear, and I will be brown soon enough.” He turned just in time to catch his balance as an avalanche of two children descended upon him. He had been gone almost a year, but neither had forgotten their adored uncle. By the time the excitement had died down a little, they were all within the main courtyard, helping unload the ponies. Eleeri glanced at Mayrin.

  “Who are these new people? More to add to your menie?”

  “No, to yours. They’ll stay here for a few weeks so we can teach them sense about the lands. Then those who wish will come on to your keep. Here they can also meet the canyon Keplian and see they mean no harm.”

  Eleeri hesitated. She had never considered that they must do more than continue to camp out in the large building. If she would take up the lands, it must be run as a proper holding. She sighed softly. Life was about to change again.

  Then she drew back her shoulders. The last change had been for the good. She had found a land to live in, a mate to love, family, friends, and something to fight for rather than against. She would not fear more change. She turned to look at Romar as he pulled another bundle from the pony. If all changes brought her such joy, then she would run to meet them.

  He must have sensed her eyes, for he turned to look at her. Then he handed the package to Jerrany and strolled across. His hands gathered her against his heart. Eleeri looked up as he bent his head to kiss her. She would not fear change. She was a warrior. She would meet it as she had met so many other changes these last few years.

  And now she would meet nothing alone. Beside her Romar would stand—swordmate, shieldmate, and beloved. She smiled, relaxing against him. And in her heart she breathed a silent prayer of thanks to the gone-before ones. Their path had in the end brought their daughter home.

  * * *

  Thus this story is recorded in the records of Lormt, where word came many months later. Strange things come out of the ruined lands of Karsten since the turning. This tale is one more. Nor is it likely to be the last. For when powers stir deeply, old secrets rise again.

  ABOUT THE AUTHORS

  ANDRE NORTON has been writing for over sixty years. One of very few authors to receive the Grand Master award from the Science Fiction Writers of America, she is the author of more than a hundred science fiction and fantasy novels, including the Witchworld series and such classic tales as Ware Hawk and Judgement on Janus.

  LYN MCCONCHIE runs a colored sheep farm in New Zealand. A former government employee, she has contributed to Andre Norton’s Catfantastic anthologies and has written historical novels and a nonfiction book about amusing incidents that take place on her farm.