She must have heard his harping. Emereck looked at her and became suddenly aware that he had fallen asleep in his traveling clothes, still covered with the grime of yesterday’s journey, and that he was in need of a shave as well as breakfast. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind and said, “You shouldn’t be here.”
“You made your opinion rather obvious yesterday,” Liana said, studying the two birds intently. She leaned forward and adjusted their position, then went on, “But I happen to disagree with you. Besides, you left without taking any provisions, and I thought you might need a few.”
“You brought those from Minathlan?” Emereck asked, nodding at the plains-ducks.
“No, I shot them early this morning.” She glanced down, and for the first time Emereck noticed a bow and a quiver of arrows on the ground beside her.
“Oh.” Emereck had a hard time envisioning Liana shooting anything, but the evidence was unmistakable.
“The Duke insists that all of his family learn to use a bow,” Liana said. “It’s a tradition of some sort. I’m not as good as Kiannar or Oraven, but I’m better than Gendron. Talerith is just hopeless, but the Duke makes her try anyway.”
“I can imagine.”
“So I went hunting this morning,” Liana continued. “I thought we should save what’s in my packs, in case we can’t find any game later.”
Emereck shook his head. “There isn’t going to be a later.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“I’m taking you back to Minathlan.”
“How?”
“What?”
“How are you going to take me back?” Liana repeated patiently. “You can’t very well tie me to my horse, you know, and I can’t think of any other way you could manage it.”
“I don’t believe you’ll stay out here alone if I head back,” Emereck said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.
Liana tilted her head, considering. “No, I don’t suppose I would.” Emereck let out a breath of relief. Liana smiled and said, “I’d go on to Kith Alunel, alone. Though I’m afraid it would make things a bit awkward for you when you got back to Minathlan; Gendron would certainly want some sort of explanation.”
“What will Gendron say about this?”
“Very little, I should think. I talked to him before I left, and he said most of it then.” Liana bent forward to examine the cooking birds. “He was almost as difficult as you’re being, but he gave in eventually.”
“I can’t take you with me!” Emereck had to exert all his willpower to keep from glancing at the bundle beside his horse that contained the Harp of Imach Thyssel. It was a good thing he had not taken time to make a proper camp the previous night after all. If he had loosened any of the careful wrappings around the Harp, Liana would surely have noticed it at once.
“You aren’t taking me anywhere. I’m coming with you on my own,” Liana said. “Now, if you’ve quite finished your objections, why don’t we eat? I’m starving!”
They rode west all morning. At first Emereck was silent, brooding over Flindaran’s death, and the Harp, and especially over his failure to dissuade Liana from accompanying him. He had protested throughout breakfast and breaking camp, using every argument he could think of. Liana countered them all with an air of sweet reason that came near to making him wonder whether he was the one being irrational.
Liana glanced at him several times as they rode, but did not intrude on his thoughts except to point out very gently whenever he began to drift from the direction he had chosen. After her second correction, Emereck abandoned the vague notion he had entertained of leading her in a circle and so getting her back to Minathlan. Liana was coming with him, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Actually, he reflected, Liana could easily be an asset on the journey. She clearly knew the plains well, at least this close to Minathlan, and judging by breakfast, she was a good enough archer to supply occasional small game to supplement their dried provisions. Most of all, her presence was a welcome distraction from thoughts of the Harp, and of Flindaran. He wondered how long he could keep her from realizing that he was going to Ciaron and not to Kith Alunel, and what she would say when she found out.
It occurred to him that telling her his true destination might be all that was needed to make her return to Minathlan. Surely, she would not insist on accompanying him so far! He took a quick, speculative glance in Liana’s direction. On the other hand, she was wonderfully stubborn. And she was sure to ask any number of awkward questions once she learned the truth. Better to postpone that confrontation as long as possible, and simply accept her company in the meantime.
He sneaked another glance, and found her watching him. Their eyes met, and suddenly Liana laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said almost at once, “but it seems so silly for both of us to be trying to watch each other when we aren’t looking!”
Emereck grinned reluctantly. “I apologize for being such a poor companion,” he said. “I’ll try to do better in the future.”
“I don’t know whether you should,” Liana said thoughtfully. “It never seems to work when people try to be something they aren’t.”
“I beg your pardon?” Emereck said, considerably startled.
“Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to imply that I think you’re always a poor traveling companion. You couldn’t be, or—” Liana stopped short.
“Or what?”
“Or Flindaran would have complained. He—he always did, you know, when he didn’t like something.”
“Yes.” Emereck was silent for a moment. “Flindaran never had much patience.” Suddenly he was intensely aware of Flindaran’s absence. The journey was too similar to the last one he had made with Flindaran. The countryside, the sound of the horses, the very freshness of the air made him think of his friend, and know that Flindaran was not there, would never be there again… “It reminds me of Ciaron,” Emereck said at random.
Liana looked from him to the empty grasslands and back. “This is like Ciaron?”
“Well, not really….”
Liana smiled. “Tell me about Ciaron.”
“It’s large and crowded,” Emereck replied, grateful for the distraction. “There are always at least two Trader caravans passing through. There’s a kind of permanent camp for them just inside the walls.”
“Do the noblemen really put diamonds on their carriage wheels?”
“You’re thinking of Rathane,” Emereck said solemnly. “Ciaron is much more conservative; they never use anything more expensive than quartz on their carriages.”
“You’re joking!”
“Not at all,” Emereck said, but he was unable to keep his face straight, and Liana laughed again. She had a very nice laugh, Emereck thought.
“All right, I won’t ask foolish questions,” Liana said. “But you will have to tell me what Ciaron is really like, and no more well-stretched stories!”
Emereck was quite willing to do so, and they spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon in conversation. He told her about the marketplace, where goods from all the lands around the Melyranne Sea were available for a price. He described the fish houses that surrounded the harbor, and the harbor itself, where the great ships floated carefully above the sunken ruins of an older city. He told her of the two-copper magicians, who performed by sleight of hand rather than by true magic, and of the Minstrel’s Guildhall that was one of the best on Lyra. Flindaran’s memory was a muted counterpoint to every part of Emereck’s narrative.
They passed no villages during the day, and few houses. At least one of the houses they saw had been abandoned and was in the process of falling to pieces. Several birds flew out of the crumbling chimney as they approached, and the walls seemed to be sagging under the weight of the roof. They did not stop to investigate.
They traveled farther than Emereck had expected. By late afternoon they were passing occasional clumps of trees, harbingers of the forest for which they were heading. Near dusk, they chose a place and set abou
t making camp. As they groomed the horses, Emereck wondered how he could unbundle his meager belongings without revealing the Harp to Liana. She would certainly think it strange if he slept another night in the clothes he was wearing, and it would be far from comfortable.
He was tempted to simply tell her he had the Harp, but the bitter lessons of recent experience held him back. Besides, they were still too close to Minathlan, and all Liana’s loyalties must lie there.
He lowered his saddle to the ground next to his harp case and the somewhat bulky bundle that contained the Harp of Imach Thyssel. Perhaps if he asked Liana to hunt something for their dinner, she would be gone long enough for him to take care of his own needs and hide the Harp once more, as well as set up camp. It occurred to him suddenly that there might be some awkwardness about their sleeping arrangements for the night. After all, Liana was a Duke’s daughter, however illegitimate, and Flindaran’s sister as well. Not that he, Emereck, would presume… but would she know that?
Emereck glanced back toward the horses. Liana was standing on the other side of her mare. All Emereck could see were her boots and an occasional flash of her hair as she curried the horse’s neck. He cleared his throat, then paused, not knowing how to begin or even what he wanted to say. He coughed, and cleared his throat again.
“Are you all right?” Liana called.
“Uh, yes, of course,” Emereck said hastily.
“Well, you sound as if you’re catching something.” She leaned around her mare and peered at Emereck. “Maybe I should try to find some horehound. There’s bound to be some around; it grows practically everywhere.”
“Horehound? Why?”
“Horehound tea is good for coughs.”
“I don’t need—that is, there’s no reason for you to put yourself out.”
“Maybe you don’t think so, but I’d rather not travel all the way to Kith Alunel with someone who’s coughing and sneezing.” Liana came around to Emereck’s side of her mare and continued her currying.
“Oh.” Emereck shifted uncomfortably, wondering why he felt so flustered. “I, um,” he said, and stopped.
“What?” Liana looked over her shoulder, then turned and studied him for a moment. “You were going to say something?”
“I was wondering,” Emereck said carefully, “where you wanted your bed laid out.”
“It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s reasonably free of rocks and thistles. Why?”
Emereck felt his face growing warm. “I just thought you might have a, er, preference.”
Liana stared at him, then smiled. “Oh, now I see what’s bothering you! I’m sorry; I’m not usually so dense.”
“Actually, I wasn’t worried about myself.”
“Well, you needn’t fret on my account. I have quite a few brothers, and I’ve been camping with them before. You don’t have to worry about ‘offending my modesty,’ or whatever the phrase is in Ciaron.”
“I’m not your brother,” Emereck said without thinking.
Liana gave him a brilliant smile, “I know.”
“I didn’t mean—”
“That’s all right. I did.” Liana grinned at his confusion. “I’m going to find something for dinner. Put the beds wherever you want them.” She gave him a mischievous look, picked up her bow and arrows, and was out of hearing before Emereck could think of an adequate response.
Emereck stared after her, then realized that this was his chance to unwrap the Harp. Without enthusiasm, he went over to the small pile of his belongings, knelt, and began untying the knots that held his careful camouflage together. His thoughts were full of Liana; he hardly even noticed what his hands were doing.
Had she known what she was offering when she told him to put the beds wherever he wanted them? She must have; Liana was no fool. His breath caught at the thought, then, regretfully, he laid it aside. He had been the cause of trouble and division in her family since his arrival in Minathlan; he was responsible for her brother’s death; he had taken the Harp of Imach Thyssel against her father’s expressed commands. He had lied to her about where he was going and why, and because of those lies she was determined to come with him on this long and dangerous journey. He could not add to the list of wrongs between them by taking advantage of her offer now, however much he might want to. His fingers moved on the harpstrings to pluck the first sad chords of “The Swordsmith and the Lady,” when he realized just what he was about to do.
He dropped the Harp and was on his feet in an instant. He stood two paces from the Harp, staring down at it, and waited for his shaking to stop. How could it have happened? He had been about to play the Harp of Imach Thyssel as if it were an ordinary instrument with no purpose but to make music, and he had not even noticed. He might have brought every wizard and thief between Kith Alunel and the Kathkari Mountains down on their heads. He might have told Duke Dindran what he had done and where he was. He might…
He might have played the Harp of Imach Thyssel.
Somehow, the thought did not terrify him as much as it had barely a few days before. His own carelessness frightened him far more than the Harp. He stepped forward and picked up the instrument. The ivory was cool and smooth against his palms, but he felt no urge to play it. That obsession had died with Flindaran.
He set the Harp down and covered it, then set about making camp. By the time Liana returned carrying a brace of rabbits, the Harp was safely rewrapped and Emereck was seated before a small fire, staring into the flames. She did not refer to their earlier conversation, though she must have noticed the two piles of grass on opposite sides of the fire. Emereck, watching her skin the rabbits she had brought, could not decide whether he was glad or sorry that she did not mention it.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Emereck was shaking—no, someone was shaking him. His eyes flew open and he saw Liana’s face above him, washed in moonlight. But the nightmare still clung to him; she seemed to be melting into darkness as he watched. He sat up with a breath that was half sob, and realized that it was only a cloud crossing one of the moons. He waited until he was sure his voice would be steady, then said, “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Liana said. She hesitated, then went on, “I wasn’t really sure whether I ought to wake you, but…”
“I’m glad you did. I managed to miss the worst part this way.”
Liana hesitated. “This has happened before?”
“Yes, nearly every—” He stopped, staring into the night, going backward in his mind. “Nearly every night since we found that cursed Harp,” he said slowly.
“How can it be the Harp?”
“I don’t know. But it’s the same dream, every night, and it started when we found the Harp.”
“What do you dream?” Liana asked softly.
“I see a city, and tall people with golden skin and eyes. It is night, and Kaldarin is rising. Elewyth is just ahead of it, but most of the light comes from a silver moon that’s bigger than either of them. Then something reaches out and touches the silver moon, and it… hurts. The air goes dark, and everything starts twisting. I see the golden people melting and… changing, and I know they are screaming but I can’t hear them. It goes on, and on, and the silver moon cracks and falls and everything is dark, and it still won’t stop—”
Liana laid a hand on his arm. For a long time they sat in silence. At last Liana shook herself. “It doesn’t sound to me as if it has anything to do with the Harp. But I think it’s just as well you had to leave it in Minathlan.”
“Yes,” Emereck said after a pause during which he carefully did not look at the place where the Harp lay hidden among his belongings. “I suppose it is.”
They broke camp as soon as it was light and went on. The land was dry and dusty; here and there, great outcroppings of stone reared starkly above the plain. They reminded Emereck of bones, the bones of the world poking through a dry, dead skin. He decided that his nightmares were making him morbid, and tried to stop thinking about it.
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Near mid-morning they stopped to rest the horses. Emereck paced restlessly while the animals grazed, unsure why he was so nervous but unable to keep still. Finally he left Liana sitting in the meager shade of one of the stones and climbed a small hill. He stood looking out over the plain, thinking of the Guildhall in Ciaron, of the songs he needed to practice, of anything except the Harp and Flindaran and the last few days at Castle Minathlan. At last he turned to rejoin Liana. Halfway down the hill, he halted abruptly. There was a small cloud of dust on the northern horizon.
Emereck ran the rest of the way. Liana looked at him in surprise until he pointed out what he had seen. She studied it briefly, then nodded. “Horses,” she said. “Probably five or six of them, coming this way.”
“One of your border patrols?” Emereck asked without much conviction.
“No, we’re well past the borders of Minathlan by now.”
“Then Gendron must have—”
“I don’t think so. They’re coming from the wrong direction to have ridden straight from the castle.”
“Well, who do you think they are?” Emereck said crossly.
Liana frowned. “I suppose they could be from a Trader caravan, but I can’t imagine what would bring one out here. Or they could be travelers.”
“Or bandits,” Emereck said. Or wizards, he added silently, or thieves, looking for the Harp. “And I don’t want to stay here and find out which of us is right. Maybe we can outrun them.”
“Running will just attract their attention,” Liana objected.
“All right, we’ll ride slowly,” Emereck said over his shoulder as he walked toward the horses. “But let’s go!”
They rode southwest, angling away from the approaching riders. For a time it seemed they had succeeded in keeping clear, but soon it became apparent that the riders had changed direction to intercept them. “I don’t like this,” Emereck said. “Come on.”
He kicked his horse into a trot, then a canter. Liana followed. A few minutes later, Emereck heard her call, “They’re gaining on us,” and then, “Syaski soldiers!”
[Lyra 03] - The Harp of Imach Thyssel Page 15