Starstone

by Denise M. Main

  “She's coming here?” Morgan smiled.

  “It would seem so. She disappeared two days after we left and a note was eventually found saying she'd be back soon, and not to worry.” Druin frowned at the hieroglyphs on the message that had arrived from Thesa by carrier bird.

  “At least she left a note – which is more than her father does when he takes a notion to wander off for a while,” Morgan stated.

  “But I know the country and which roads lead where. Liath's hardly been out of Thesa in her entire life. The only other place she's visited is the island just off the coast where her mother lays. Did she mention going anywhere to you?”

  “No – when I first asked her to come, she said that would be fun, and thanked me. Just before we set off, I reminded her about it, she assured me she would come, but didn't say when. I was planning to write to Demora and offer an official invitation, but...” He let the sentence trail off and stared across the hall. He remembered telling Liath he loved her, and even though he'd been a little drunk at the time, he'd not been stretching the truth all that far. “You think she's not capable of looking after herself?”

  “I honestly don't know,” Druin sighed. “Although anyone who tries to harm her will probably get all they deserve, and more. And as for you, putting this idea in her head in the first place, young man, you will have to accept sole responsibility for anything my daughter does to your hall, court or town.” With that, the healer turned abruptly and strode off towards his workrooms.

  Balin, who had been standing to one side, moved closer. “Did I overhear that correctly?” he enquired. “You've asked Liath to come to Delgannan, and she's on her way?”

  “Yes, to both questions,” Morgan agreed, wondering at Druin's brusque manner.

  “So that's the seer you've been singing the praises of to Ky and Conna. One look into those Akashii eyes and you were lost, am I right? Goddess, Morgan, I thought you had more sense.”

  “What the hell're you talking about, Bal?” the young lord demanded, waving away a couple of court ladies, eager to show their lord how glad they were to see him back.

  “You don't screw around with seers,” Balin stated. “Especially not that one.”

  “Screw around?” Morgan repeated.

  The harper raised a silver eyebrow at the tone of his voice. “You know what I mean. Lee's not like any of these pretty, empty-headed creatures,” he replied, gesturing to the members of Morgan's court. “Play around with her feelings and you're minus one great hall. Surely Druin's warned you?”

  “Yes, he made it very clear what she's capable of. But has it occurred to you that I might not just want to drag her into the nearest bed? That I might find her interesting to talk with, enjoyable to be with? That I might actually be quite content just sharing a jug of wine with her and...discussing philosophy?”

  Balin laughed, black eyes sparkling with amusement. “Discussing philosophy? Are we talking about the same Liath?”

  “Yes. And listen to this, you smart-ass fiddle player, we did discuss that, in her rooms, at night, for over three hours!”

  “In bed?”

  “No! We've never been to bed together!”

  The harper looked genuinely surprised. “Goddess, what's wrong with you two?” He shook his head, “You're losing your touch, Morgan. So's she. I know Lee, she's as red-blooded as any temple-born priestess – she's taken part in the rites for the last...four years.” His expression turned to one of fond remembrance. “I partnered her in the first rite she was allowed full participation in. I stayed in Thesa for two months after that. In the end Demora kicked me out and told me to get back to work.”

  “So the great harper fell for a pair of Akashii eyes, too,” Morgan muttered, feeling a little annoyed at Balin's old relationship with Liath.

  “It was more than just her eyes,” he smiled. “I seriously considered disobeying Demora and staying with Lee, but your father died and you named me your Harper.”

  “And Liath at that time was, what, 16?” Morgan remarked coldly. “Almost half your age.”

  “Nearly 17. It'll be good to see her again.”

  “You saw her a few weeks ago when you went down for the spring rites,” the young lord reminded him.

  Balin said nothing, just smiled to himself.

  Chapter 13 – Delgannan Visit

  A seer away from Thesa was an unusual enough sight; a young, strikingly attractive one alone was guaranteed to make people stop and stare. Of course, plenty of men and women dressed in black, but none had either that same strange, almost tangible aura about them, or the crescent moon on one cheek. Definitely not one with a healers satchel, either. Besides, rumor had come down from the Great Hall that Druin's daughter was coming to visit, and that he wasn't pleased Morgan had invited her.

  Gossip and speculation ran rife through Delgannan, as always, and many people were on the lookout for the healer-seer. When she was spotted on the road, news of her arrival spread like wildfire, reaching a particular tavern and the ears of one of Morgan's household, before travelling to the Great Hall itself. That person downed his drink, mounted his horse and went to intercept the young seer, finding her just outside the market place.

  For a moment, the two studied each other; Liath realizing with surprise that the boy was pretty as any girl, and had the greenest eyes she'd ever seen. His hair was as long as hers, a thick shining cascade of dark chestnut silk. He was tall, slender, and had a voice remarkably like Morgan's. Both trained, she decided, by Balin.

  “You're Conna,” she said, remembering.

  He smiled, green eyes sparkling, and nodded. “You're Liath.”

  Liath smiled back, the expression on her face matching his.

  For the next three days, much to Morgan's annoyance, it was Conna who showed the seer around Delgannan. Took her to his favorite places, rode out into the surrounding countryside with. Told jokes to, laughed and horse-raced with. He never just walked anywhere, but strode along, his long hair flowing out behind. One moment he would be in one place, the next, yards away, holding out his hand to her, already thinking of something else to do or show her.

  And for a time, the young seer forgot the dreams that had plagued her on the way from Thesa. The darkness that haunted her sleep, and made her feel uneasy. The shadows over the futures that made her refuse to foresee, despite the many requests she received from almost everyone she met.

  For three nights, she fell into bed, exhausted, and was woken in the mornings by Conna, banging on her door, shouting for her to hurry up.

  The only sour note was Kyle. Just as she and the young lord loved each other on sight, there was instant dislike between Liath and the northlander.

  “You and Ky don't get on well at all, do you?” Conna observed as they sat playing a board game on the fourth evening of her stay.

  “Very perceptive,” she said, neatly capturing one of his men.

  “Why not?”

  “Why don't I like him?”

  Conna nodded and took one of her men.

  “He's arrogant, ill-mannered, rude, and with an overgrown opinion of himself,” she stated after a moment's thought, and absently moved one of her game pieces.

  Across the wide room, Balin struck a discordant note on his beautiful instrument. Liath glanced at him. He smiled back and inclined his silver head, beginning another tune. While Conna worked out whether her apparently thoughtless move was part of an elaborate ploy or not, the girl was content to watch her old friend and first lover.

  “What's my future, Lee?” Conna asked suddenly, leaning forward.

  Liath's head jerked round. She sat very still, her face set like stone and stared back at him for a long moment. “Because it's you who ask, Conna,” she said very softly, “if you really want to know – I'll tell you.”

  “You'd do it for me,” he said, taking another small step along the slippery path of love, “but not for anyone else. Not even Morgan.”

  “You know the reason why I won't. But you're my fri
end. I'll tell you of some possibilities.”

  Conna reached out and brushed his fingertips over the tiny black and blue moon, then took one of her hands in his. “In that case, just tell me the bit about Morgan's reactions when he finds out someone's filled his bed with slugs...”

  Liath's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open a little way. “Slugs?” she repeated.

  He nodded seriously.

  “You didn't?”

  “I did.”

  “Oh, Conna...” A smile spread slowly across her face, turned into a grin, and then into helpless laughter. Conna chuckled, then he too sank slowly down into his chair, shaking with uncontrollable mirth. At the other side of the hall, Balin watched, smiling, then set his fingers rippling across the harp strings in an imitation of their laughter.

  Morgan chose that inopportune moment to walk past. He stopped at their table and said hello, meaning to claim the seer's attentions for a while. But Liath took one look at him and doubled over, giggling madly. Conna turned away, tears trickling down his cheeks, holding his aching sides. Morgan, unable to get even a coherent sound out of either, shook his head and made for the wide staircase which led up to the gallery.

  Wiping their eyes, Conna and Liath watched him stroll along the softly lit balcony, heading for his rooms.

  “Come on,” Conna grinned, taking hold of her hand again.

  “You are going to warn him, aren't you?” she asked, as they ran up the staircase and along the gallery, following the High Lord.

  Most of the people in the hall stopped what they were doing and looked up, hearing the roar of Morgan's voice as he bellowed out his brother's name.

  “I don't think that's going to be necessary,” he said.

  They both turned and walked swiftly back towards the end of the hallway.

  “Conna!” Morgan yelled again.

  “In here!” Liath hissed, half-dragging Conna into her own guest room and gently closing the door behind them.

  Quiet as two mice, they listened to Morgan's angry footsteps stride past, then turned to each other and giggled in the dimly lit room. Not hearing the footsteps return, or the door handle slowly move.

  They froze as light from the corridor silhouetted a tall figure in the doorway.

  “Conna.”

  A deceptively soft voice spoke the youth's name. He looked away from the young seer and into Morgan's cold dark eyes.

  “Don't you ever knock before entering a lady's room?” Conna asked.

  “Don't you ever grow up?” Morgan countered, contempt plain on his face and in his voice. “Now find a bucket, and get my rooms cleaned up!”

  “A couple of the servants will do it,” Conna said off-handedly, turning back to Liath.

  “You will do it!” Morgan snapped, grabbing hold of Conna's shoulder and spinning him round. “Rainard arrives tomorrow, all the servants are busy. And even if they weren't, you would still clean my rooms.”

  The younger man wrenched himself free and took an angry step away from the other. Liath stood to one side, Rainard's name prompting an unwelcomed image of a future.

  “Listen, Morgan, if you can't take a joke...” Conna began.

  “Do you trust this island lord?” she asked quietly, her eyes taking on a distant look.

  “What?” Morgan dragged his attention from his irresponsible brother and frowned at the priestess. She turned her face towards him, but she was seeing something else.

  A young pale, blonde woman stared into a small gold framed mirror, her blue eyes cold and calculating. A shadow fell over the mirror's surface; she turned, smiling, putting the looking glass behind her on top of a chest; then stepped into a man's arms, reaching up to kiss his lips.

  As Liath watched, the man picked the dainty young woman up and carried her across to his bed, laying her down on the soft white sheets, thick dark hair falling over his tanned cheeks as he bent his head to her neck. His fingers slowly unlaced her thin gown, laying it back like petals on a flower...

  Still watching, mesmerized, Liath saw them make love.

  Suddenly, three men, two young, all red-haired, burst into the bedroom, swords drawn, the eldest demanding to know why his daughter was being taken advantage of, and his trust being abused. Demanding satisfaction...

  She blinked and stared at Morgan, aware that he'd shut the door and led her across to the small hearth.

  “What did you see?” the young lord asked.

  Liath glanced quickly at Conna, then sat down in the nearest chair. The youth crouched in front of her, rested one hand on her black trousered knee, sensing how much this vision had disturbed her.

  “Is the island lord's daughter small and blonde?” Liath asked.

  “Yes, so I've been told,” Morgan replied.

  “I saw you take her to your bed, and make love to her.” Liath stopped, mildly embarrassed despite an open mind and lifetime of foreseeing, as the intimate scenes replayed themselves in her mind.

  “Did I enjoy it?” Morgan smiled, leaning his arm on the mantelshelf, not at all put out by the idea.

  The young woman, now angry that he'd been so annoyed with Conna, that he found her vision amusing – that she watched him with another woman – leapt to her feet.

  Flames from the small fire rose with her, hissing and crackling in the air. Outside, a sudden wind buffeted against the window.

  “Is that all you can say!” she demanded. “I was there, in the same room as you and her, watching! And you got caught with your pants down, High Lord!”

  Realization flickered in Morgan's eyes and he smiled slightly, ignoring the possibility that Liath could destroy his hall and all in it should she become angry enough.

  “Conna...leave us a moment,” he said.

  “What...!”

  “Now!”

  Reluctantly, Conna stood up and stalked out of the room.

  “Lee...” Morgan murmured, gently stroking her hair and cheek, his own form of power working to oppose hers.

  She stared at him in amazement, then batted his hand away. “Her father came in, and two brothers, I think. They weren't too pleased to find you in bed with her. Their swords were drawn, they threatened you. An alliance, or war!”

  She turned and strode over to the window, glaring out into the night, angry with herself, the island lord, and Morgan. “I would not advise you become – involved – with Rainard's daughter,” she said quietly.

  “I know that,” he smiled, then walked up behind her and rested his hands on her shoulders. Felt the tensing of her muscles, breathed her name, kissed her neck.

  In the hearth, flames spat sparks like poisonous orange snakes. Liath spun round, slapped Morgan hard across his face, then strode out of the room, straight into the tall blond, Kyle.

  “Out of my way!” she snapped, shouldering past and striding up the corridor to where Conna was staring out of the window at the end.

  Ky opened his mouth, about to call an insult after her, when Morgan stepped out of her room, gently rubbing his cheek. The tall northlander lifted Morgan's hand away and smiled at the red imprint.

  “That'll teach you to lower your standards so far,” he stated.

  “Have you seen my bedroom?” Morgan demanded, ignoring the blond's remark.

  “Not recently,” Ky admitted. “Why?”

  “It's crawling with slugs!” he snapped.

  “Slugs! So that's why you were bawling out Conn's name.”

  “Yes...the little bastard...!”

  Ky rested a hand on Morgan's shoulder, stopping him from storming up the corridor. “He's still young – and you're a hard person for him to live up to. Let it go this once.”

  Morgan stared into Ky's deep blue eyes, the blond just an inch taller than he was.

  “You can sleep in my rooms tonight – if you like,” the northlander added, smiling.

  After a moment, Morgan relaxed, chuckled. “I might just do that,” he said. Then put his arm round Ky's shoulders as they strolled back towards the hall.

>   Liath stood at Conna's side, in control of her temper again, but wondering why she'd lost it and reacted so strongly in the first place.

  “Are you going to get rid of the slugs?” she asked.

  “No.” Conna sounded surprised, as though he'd already forgotten about the incident. He turned from the window and leaned back against the frame. “What happened after he told me to leave?”

  “I told him what else I'd seen – Rainard and his sons bursting in. Declaring Morgan marry Emmer, his daughter, or there would be war.”

  “Delgannan's too powerful for that. And Morgan too experienced to fall for it. Is that all?”

  “No – he kissed me, and I slapped him.”

  Conna burst out laughing. “I think you must be the only woman in the entire hall, even Delgannan, who would have done that. Tell me, Lee, do you actually like Morgan?”

  “Yes, of course I like him. I'd have to be dead not to.”

  “Did it really feel as though you were in the same room as him and Rainard's daughter?”

  Liath stared down at the hand she'd slapped Morgan with, then rubbed it against her leg. “Yeah,” she said quietly, not adding it almost felt as though she’d been in the same bed as them.

  “Is it always like that, whenever you 'see’ things?”

  “To some extent. But not usually as clear as...” she shrugged and fell silent.

  “Cheer up, Lee,” he said putting his hand on her shoulder; wanting to let her know that he was there whenever she needed someone. He gave her a gentle pull towards him. There was a small resistance, then she leaned against him, head on his shoulder and an arm round his waist.

  Briefly, the white marble stones of Thesa called out to her, and she was almost tempted to return and lose herself in the deep dark labyrinth below the Temple; to follow one road that led through her future before it ended abruptly.

  “Come on,” he added, “let's have a night-cap while Morgan cools off.”

  Chapter 14 – Yrloch

  Almost two miles off shore, Rainard stood on the deck of his flag-ship, staring out across the calm sea to the harbor. Tiny lights gleamed brightly along the waterfront, then spread out inland on both sides of the river to the Great Hall of Delgannan. Tomorrow, he would be inside the city. Within two months – it could be his. While Ulric had been alive, Rainard would never have attempted this. The old lord had been a philanderer, but he'd been a good Prime too. All Morgan seems to care about is getting as many women as possible into his bed, the island lord thought with contempt. And as for the dubious relationship he had with the northlander...well, everyone from that barbaric part of the land was strange. Rainard always felt uncomfortable with men who formed such deep bonds with other men, as some northlanders were in the habit of doing.