A horn whinnied, the palace doors opened again. Hundreds of people surrounded the common where they waited. The entire population was rapt, watching. The doors stood open for a minute. Nothing happened. A golden stallion appeared. His mane flowed over his supple neck like flaxen silk. His gleaming coat ranged from deep amber points to the brightness of a new-minted coin. He pranced. He knew he was beautiful.
The rider’s golden robe flowed down over the stallion’s glossy haunches. He wore a golden torc, amber and gold beads embroidered into his robe clicked as the horse curveted. One tanned hand held the gilded reins; the other rested easily on his thigh. Tanned and weathered by the sun his sky blue eyes emphasized by the gold tattoos on his face. His platinum hair was spiked ornately into the semblance of a mane. He looked annoyed.
Reaching them he stood on the saddle and let the robe drop. He stood silhouetted against the sun. Ariana tried not to gasp. Golden swirling patterns covered his powerful torso delicately tracing the tanned skin. But more remarkable, they moved and shifted as if he was covered in golden filigree. Arm rings of platinum and gold circled his arms.
“I am the Sunlord, Lyon. Do not dare my wrath. These are the patterns of my conquests. My enemy's blood flows from my sword like sweet wine. What do you have to say before you die?”
Ariana pulled Geneth up. Awkwardly they bowed to Lyon. Her mind raced. Their fates rested on her ability to explain.
“Your names, intruders? We would add you to the patterns properly.” Lyon said. His horse swished an impatient tail.
“I am Ariana. This is Geneth, handmaid to Luna.”
“What do you do here?”
“I come seeking the Second gate Heulwen.” She said. The onlookers moaned.
The Sunlord’s eyes widened. The horse snorted as if legs had clamped tight around the barrel stave ribs. “It is forbidden to speak of that.” He said.
Eight men in black with ornate knots decorating their robes stepped forward. Bows flashed into position, pointing at the prisoners. There wasn’t the slightest tremor in the shafts to mark the pallor under the tan. Lyon made the slightest of gestures. The men stepped back gesturing around their hearts.
“Follow me.” Lyon said. He raised his voice. “My people, I will find the truth of this. If they are outlander witches, they will die. Until my judgment, go home and fear not.”
He turned, gesturing for them to follow him. He made his stately way into the palace. Ariana and Geneth followed flanked by the eight officers, who ignored them. Ariana glanced at Geneth. Her face was frightened but composed. Ariana sensed a suppressed excitement that seemed out of place in the present situation. They walked up the steps through the doors. The doors were gilded, covered in intricate carvings of horses and warriors. Ariana stopped and stared.
A shove between the shoulder blades reminded her she wasn’t a tourist. Through the doors was a great courtyard where the men dismounted and untacked the horses. Each man took a moment to say goodbye, putting an arm around a glossy neck. Some straightened a forelock or even breathed into their horse’s nostrils. After this farewell the horses trotted to the stables alone and unaided. Even the Sunlord, bade farewell to his horse before walking into the great hall.
Vast and airy, the polished floor melded into vaulted walls latticed with windows. Light flooded the chamber. White gauze in the windows billowed, diffusing the light. Tasseled gold cords held the curtains. Ariana felt like she was in a ship. Under each window enameled emblems brightened austere walls.
At the far end, a golden canopy hung over a dais. A throne flanked by two seats dominated the platform. Carved from luminous stone the throne almost floated. Behind the throne was a massive arch in the shape of the rising sun. On the left hand chair reclined a pale woman with platinum hair falling severely down her back. Ice blue eyes widened at the sight of them. Then she calmed herself looking impassively ahead. On the other side, a young boy looked gravely down at them. His hair was so pale it was almost white.
The Sunlord sat on the throne. The soldiers and attendants stood in rows. He looked at the pair. The silence grew. A few people coughed. Someone shifted. The neigh of a horse wafted in through the windows.
“What do you have to say in your defense?” Lyon demanded.
Ariana’s mind raced, how much to tell him? She opened her mouth. Geneth interrupted her with a gesture and stepped forward. Taking a deep breath she flushed beet red. Pulling the shoulder of her tunic down Geneth revealed a small silver sigil on the pale skin above her left breast. Looking directly at Lyon she said, “My lord, I claim kin rights.”
The room exploded. Ariana stared at Geneth. Geneth was reticent to the point of secrecy. Despite Ariana’s efforts she’d learned little about the girl’s past. Nobles clustered gesticulating and yelling. The queen looked like she wanted to skin Geneth. Catching Ariana’s eye, her impassive mask whipped back into place. The Sunlord frankly gaped at the girl standing dignified and still amidst the chaos. Ariana felt so proud of Geneth tears came to her eyes. She’d confronted her worst fear, conquering her shyness.
“Silence!” The command lashed the room like a whip. Utter stillness descended. “Well girl, pray continue.”
Geneth cleared her throat. The slight cough rang loud in the silence. Ariana smiled encouragement. Geneth took a deep breath.
“I am Geneth handmaid of Luna. My father was Tareth, youngest son of Tareg, First of the Silveray.”
Murmurs broke out. Lyon stopped them with a gesture. Silence reigned, except for Geneth’s voice.
“My mother was Genna, a weaver of Saethwyr. She was a bondservant to Tareg’s house. She and Tareth fell in love. Luna blessed them with a child. Clan laws forbade their marriage so they ran away. They crossed the desert alone on foot. At the edge of the sands Tareth was bitten by an adder and died.” Geneth choked, her voice trailed off.
A muffled cry came from a white-haired man. His sons stood stoically around him with tears in their eyes.
Taking Geneth’s cold hand Ariana said,” You don’t have to go on.” Geneth shook her head, wiping her eyes,
“My mother went mad with grief. The shock brought on her labor. The Handmaids found her. They took her in and she died soon after. By bonds of blood and love I claim kin rights.” She looked up defiantly at the room.
A man dressed in silver robes stepped forward. His proud face and eagle eyes dared anyone to stop him. He was tall; the remains of good looks lingered around his mouth and eyes. He looked intently at Geneth. His hair was silver and his eyes brown not blue but age had barely blurred the profile they shared. His gnarled hand reached out. He gently exposed her birthmark. A single tear trickled down his cheek. Geneth waited. Abruptly Tareg pulled his granddaughter into his arms. Convulsively Geneth hugged him. She clung to him sobbing. Ariana’s throat was tight. Standing next to Geneth he put his hand on her shoulder.
“Here is Geneth, daughter of the house of Tareg. May Lyw shine his radiance on her. So speaks the Lord of the Silveray.” Tareg looked at Lyon. Lyon nodded.
”What say the herdlords?”
A roar filled the hall. Tareg’s family rushed forward clustering around the newest member of the clan. Excited chatter filled the hall. Geneth’s hand held Ariana’s in a death grip. But enthusiastic relatives pulled her away. Geneth was pale under her sunburn and her eyes were glassy. She looked imploringly at Ariana and fainted. Everyone started yelling.
“Silence,” Tareg roared. Sweeping Geneth up into his arms he strode from the room. Ariana followed right behind, the rest of the clan on her heels. They hurried to the Hall of the Silveray. It was directly to the right of the great palace. Ariana realized the pennants and devices corresponded to each hall’s location relative to the palace. It related to color; black and white were furthest away, silver and bronze ranged on either side of the palace.
Silver flags embossed with the figure of a rearing horse decorated the entrance. They walked into the courtyard. Word had preceded them. Servants bustled around g
etting a chamber ready. In the center, dwarfed by the marble doorway, stood a woman, the gentle lines running out from pale eyes barely marked her face she hurried forward and put her hand on Geneth’s forehead.
“It’s the sun sickness.” They hurried down the hall. She sent servants for salve and tea. She scattered the hovering kinfolk with raised eyebrows. “Go about your business.” Ariana refused to leave. They reached the bathhouse. It was filled with greenery, decorated with white and green mosaics. There were two pools, one shallow and gently steaming, the other deep and cold. Tareg laid Geneth down on a white marble bench.
“Dearest, leave us now.”
“Lorena...”
“I’ll take care of her.” The woman started undressing Geneth. Tareg put his hand on her shoulder. Absently Lorena patted his hands with hers. He kissed her hand and left. Quickly they stripped the girl and slipped her into the plunge pool. The flush faded from her skin and she sputtered in the chill water.
“Stay child; let the water take away the heat.” She said.
“What’s going on?” Geneth said.
“Don’t talk child. Lean back and let the water heal you.” She stopped suddenly, “Listen to me, I never even introduced myself. I am Lorena. You are my guests and welcome under my roof.”
She looked down at Geneth. “I would have known you anywhere. You are a true daughter of the Silveray.” She caressed Geneth’s wet cheek. Lorena turned and looked at Ariana. “You are our honored guest for you have brought our granddaughter home. All I have is yours.” The calm blue gaze seemed to see her heart. Lorena smiled.
“Thank you ma’am, I am Ariana.”
“Well that’s enough of that. You children are tired and need rest.” Lorena helped Geneth out of the plunge pool. The she turned and gestured for the servant to come forward. Taking a jar of salve out of the basket she slathered it on Geneth’s skin. Then she covered her in a light robe and gave her a beaker of fragrant tea.
“I will leave you now. I need to make your chamber ready. I will have your things brought to you. You will of course, want to bathe also and rest until this evening.”
“Thank you, ma’am.”
“I will leave you here. I will come back to show you your room.” A soft rustle of silver silk and she was gone. Ariana looked over where Geneth sat relaxing in her silken robe. She stripped out of her traveling clothes and slid into the shallow pool. It was heaven, warm and fragrant with crushed herbs. Once she was clean the servant put some of the lotion on her and gave her a robe and tea. For a few minutes she just sat.
Lorena appeared to lead them personally to their chamber. She gestured for them to follow. For a moment she stopped and touched Geneth’s rosy cheek pushing a pale strand of hair back behind her ear. Geneth ducked her head with ashy smile. Lorena smiled and they walked to their chamber.
The room was whitewashed and accented with carved wood panels. Carpets obscured the stone floor. A table spread with sliced fruit, flowers and pitchers of water waited in the center of the room. A colorful profusion of pillows surrounded it Lorena went over to a panel. Sliding it open she revealed an alcove carved into the wall, inside nestled a sleeping pad, equipped with a pillow and quilt. Ariana hungered to lie down on a real bed.
“Dear ones rest and refresh yourselves. When you have rested, I will have the servant bring you suitable clothing for the banquet, this evening.” She slid gracefully from the room.
“Thank you.” Ariana said. Geneth was silent, overwhelmed.
“I didn’t think we were going to get out of this alive. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m sorry. But I was ashamed.”
“Of being an orphan?” Ariana said.
“I am baseborn. My parents weren’t wedded.” Geneth said.
“They would have if they could have.” Ariana said.
“You are the Stonebearer. I thought if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t let me come with you.”
“Geneth, we’re friends. Never be afraid to tell me anything. Should we eat first or sleep?”
“Sleep.” Geneth said.
They hugged. Then opened the panels and settled into the quilted cocoons. A gentle chime woke Ariana. Groggily she sat up and stretched. This had been the first real sleep she’d had in days. Fear and thirst had kept her from sleeping since they crossed the river. Geneth slid out of her alcove. She poured two glasses of water and sliced some fruit. She seemed fully recovered from her sunstroke.
“Are you feeling OK?” Ariana asked.
“I feel fine. The bath and salve fixed everything. Here.” Geneth handed her some fruit. Ariana ate greedily. The bath had replenished some of her dehydration but the water and fruit restored her fully. There was a tap on the door. Lorena walked in.
“I brought you clothing for the celebration, also some things for everyday. Your other clothes will be returned to you tomorrow once they are cleaned. But please let me offer you these as a gift.” Lorena said.
“I am an initiate of the Goddess Luna. It is not seemly for me to wear anything other than Her robes.” Geneth said, her light eyes stern and her face stubborn.
Lorena’s face reflected the same determination tempered with wisdom and humor from years of dealing with a temperamental family. “Would you be seen in the dirt of travel before the court? We have no honor treating a family member so.” Lorena said.
“Luna’s robes are worn with pride whatever their state.” Geneth’s soft voice was inflexible.
“Geneth, maybe you should.” Ariana began, but a look from Lorena stopped her.
“I would not force you dear one. Yet think on this child, you are a daughter of the Silveray, as well as Luna. It is no dishonor to wear you family’s clothing. Your goddess Luna surely led you here to reunite with us. Is she not Mother of us all? Is not family her most important trust? So your stubbornness is both insult to family, clan and Luna.”
Geneth’s mouth gaped. Lorena had outflanked her. Resigned but with a rebellious glint in her eyes Geneth picked up her clothes. Ariana turned to her own pile. Satisfied Lorena left. Geneth wore cream silk trousers and shirt with an elaborate silver and white robe that swept the floor. Ariana wore the same, but her robe was plainer.
Once they were dressed the servants braided their hair and brushed the barest trace of color on suddenly dry lips. They were ready. Geneth took Ariana’s hand. Ariana smiled reassuringly. Geneth’s face was worried.
“Keep the Stone hidden,” She warned. “We have to wait until the time is right. I don’t know how they’ll react.” Ariana nodded.
Servants escorted them through the courtyard, out into the commons in the center of the great plateau. Torches blazed under the indigo sunset. There was the soft murmuring of conversation and laughter. The sweet smoke of cooking fires wafted over the plaza.
A huge round table sat in the center. A gilded disk bisected the table into six sections. Each section was a different color, ebony, walnut, red cherry, blond oak, silvery ash, and white birch. Behind each sextant flew a pennant with the coat of arms of each clan. Behind each pennant the clan sat at a series of tables set up like spokes of a great-multicolored wheel.
At the center of the table sat Lyon, his wife Maeve and son Conor flanking him. Beside them sat Tareg dressed elaborately in his formal court robes. Lorena sat next to him in silver satin accented with gray pearls. In the first table behind Tareg were his three surviving sons and their wives. The entire Silveray clan was present. All wore varying shades of gray or silver. The further from the head of the table they sat, the less silver they wore. Each clan/color repeated this seating pattern.
The entire community was there. Looking out at the sea of colors Ariana realized there was no ambivalence here. Everyone knew their place and was allied and involved in a complex hierarchy based on birth and clan.
Two places at the center table beside Tareg and Lorena were open. Ariana and Geneth walked to their seats. The only sound was their slippers padding on the ground. The scrape of Ariana’s
chair reverberated like an explosion. There was absolute silence while they sat. Ariana could feel hundreds of eyes boring into her. She wished someone would say something.
Finally, Lyon spoke, “I now declare the company fully met. The feast in honor of our returned kinswoman shall begin.”
Tareg introduced them to the clan chieftains. “Bui, Lord of the Banray and his wife Fianna.” Ban was an old bearded man dressed in white and ivory. His cloak was adorned with alabaster beads and encrusted with pearls. His young blond wife sat next to him in a gauzy white gown. He nodded vaguely and his wife looked at them curiously.
“Caroc, Lord of the Ebonray.” Caroc was a young man; his cloak outlined in jet and made of raven feathers. Two braids drew back from his pale face, tied into the mass of glossy black hair that rippled down to his shoulders. He stared back at them arrogantly.
Next was Aethan, Lord of the Donnray a bearded man dressed in shades of brown. His cloak was decorated with tiger’s eye, opals and delicate wood beads. His face was kindly and his green eyes amused as they inspected him. His wife Kara was a petite woman with a gentle smile.
Then it was Rhys Lord of the Fireray. Rhys was in crimson with rubies adorning his cloak. He swept them a flamboyant bow and a dazzling smile. Although he was tall and handsome, his wife overshadowed him. Caitlin was a redheaded beauty with flashing green eyes. She looked at them with a measuring gaze and a reserved nod.
Liam, Lord of the Fannray was dressed in tawny shades that ranged from buff to fawn. His cloak was embroidered in bronze thread and his wife Niamh was dressed in rose. He and his wife gave them a friendly smile.
Introductions finished, the servants brought out heaping bowls of marinated meats, grilled fish and vegetables. Shallow bowls sat at each place; condiments in smaller bowls orbited the central bowl. Meats and vegetables were put in each bowl. Beside each feaster waited a pile of flat bread. There were no utensils, not even knives.
Lorena caught Ariana’s eye. With minimal movement she picked up a steaming slice of the thin bread. Then with the bread hand she scooped up a reddish paste deftly picked pieces of meat and vegetables from her bowl and put them in the bread. Swiftly she rolled it up and ate. Finished she washed her fingers in the finger bowl to her right. Ariana and Geneth copied her.
The Heartstone Page 18