by Pati Nagle
He made his own way toward a different door and before long was able to excuse himself and withdraw. Breathing a sigh of relief, he hastened to the arcade.
Luruthin was there ahead of him, talking with Felisan. The tone of his voice was earnest.
“She should not go with only Greenglens to escort her. I could accompany her.”
Felisan smiled. “That is good of you, Luruthin, but she will not be with only Greenglens. Ten of our guard will join her in Highstone, and ten of Jharan's will return to Midrange.”
“But she should have kindred along, not just guardians! She—”
Luruthin broke off catching sight of Turisan. He came forward.
“You are talking of Eliani?”
Felisan nodded. “Yes, of her departure for Fireshore tomorrow.”
Turisan winced inwardly. He had forgotten Eliani's volunteering to ride to Fireshore, the pledge that had set off all this day's events. He was to bid her farewell so soon! Eliani joined them, glancing at Turisan. Luruthin turned to her.
“Eliani, I offer to accompany you to Fireshore. I, too, would be glad to see Davhri.”
Eliani glanced from him to Turisan and back. “That is kind of you …”
A slight frown creased Felisan's brow. “That would leave only two of us representing Alpinon in the Council.”
Luruthin turned to him. “The Steppes have only two councillors.”
“Ah, but Pashani counts for at least two herself!”
Felisan grinned, but Luruthin, it seemed, did not appreciate the jest. He turned his gaze to Eliani again, eyes filled with anxious hope.
“I would be honored to accompany you, Cousin.”
With sinking dismay, Turisan realized that Luruthin had strong hopes of Eliani or perhaps had been her lover already. He had known they were close, but Luruthin's khi sang with more than unfulfilled hope. A stab of anger smote Turisan, but he schooled his face to show nothing and controlled his own khi as he spoke.
Eliani, what is your wish?
She blinked but did not look at him. I wish that my cousin's feelings may not be hurt.
Turisan swallowed, then drew a breath and addressed Felisan. “It would be well for Lady Eliani to be accompanied by her kin. The journey will be long.”
Luruthin looked at him, his expression astonished. Felisan's was thoughtful as he nodded.
“It is Eliani's choice, I think.”
Eliani looked at Luruthin and smiled. “You would be welcome, Cousin.”
“Thank you. I thank you.” Luruthin looked at Turisan, uncertainty in his gaze. “I will retire, then, to rest and make ready. Good night.”
“Good night, bold Luruthin!” Felisan chuckled as Luruthin departed, then turned to Turisan and Eliani, his smile softening. “That reminds me, I wish to hear that ballad! Do you join me?”
Eliani shook her head. “I have had enough of feasting for to night.”
“Aye. You did not even get near the table.”
“I was near it.”
Felisan regarded her, an eyebrow climbing slightly, then glanced at Turisan. “Well, you will wish to rest as well, no doubt, and Turisan here would probably enjoy a bath. Good night to you both, and good rest.”
He turned away, humming as he returned to the feast hall, leaving them alone. Turisan looked at Eliani and noticed she was wearing the simple blue gown he first had seen in Highstone. He had a sudden memory of her treading on its hem beside the Three Shades, and felt a swell of affection. Conscious of the possibility that others might seek respite on the arcade, Turisan offered his arm.
“Will you walk, my lady?”
She laid her arm lightly atop his. More formal, more distant. Perhaps her cousin's offer had given her doubt. He knew not how to fight it.
He led her down to the fountain court and to the Whispering Walk. The arcade's chilly mist surrounded them, and moonlight turned the flying streams overhead to liquid silver.
Their steps slowed, then stopped. Eliani turned to face him, a smile hovering on her lips.
Suddenly he wished he had taken off his riding gear. Felisan had been right; he needed bathing. Never had he tried to woo a maiden while wearing all the dirt of a day's hard riding. Never had the wooing meant so much to him.
Eliani was no gently bred court flower, though. She would care nothing for the dirt if she wanted to be wooed. If she wanted it.
He took a step toward her. “I have never felt such joy as I did today at Skyruach.”
His voice came out hoarse, which surprised him. She glanced down, the smile fleeting across her lips. He saw in the infinitesimal tensing of her shoulders the answer to his concern. His heart sank, though he would not let her see his disappointment.
“You are hesitant. I understand. This day has been—”
“Why are you always so reasonable?”
She stared at him, green eyes demanding an answer. Thrown off guard, he gave a soft laugh and glanced at the silvery wall of water beside them.
“My father is deeply devoted to the creed and taught me to be the same. Always to serve others, never to be selfish or do harm. I suppose it has made me overcautious—”
“Turisan.”
He met her gaze. “Yes?”
“Be selfish for once.” Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she tilted her head. “I want to see how it looks on you.”
He drew a breath. “Very well.”
Two steps closed the distance between them. He caught an arm around her waist and pulled her against him, kissing her hungrily.
Her khi was like mead on her lips, honey-sweet. He savored it and after a moment felt her respond. His heart began to thunder in his chest as her arms slid around him.
Ah, yes. The joy he had felt that afternoon returned, overwhelming him, banishing all thought. He raised his head to gaze at his love.
“I thought you were afraid of me. I am glad to be mistaken.”
Her green eyes glistened with tears as she looked up at him, a slight frown creasing her brow. “Not of you. I am afraid of hurting you. Of doing something to destroy this.”
He kissed her again, more urgently, losing himself in her mind this time as well as in her flesh. She permitted it, and his elation soared as their khi blended. He sensed the stab of fear in her, the worry she spoke of, and dismissed it.
This cannot be destroyed.
He reached deep into her, wanting to touch every part of her khi, wanting to feel her throughout himself. Everything they had shared before was as nothing to the closeness they now both sought.
Sparks of fear still flashed within her. He accepted them, as he accepted everything of her. She burned into his very soul.
On the edge of awareness he sensed a change, a shift in the fountain's note, a new shape in the air of the garden. Though the moving water interfered with his acuity, he knew someone else was present.
Withdrawing swiftly from the sweet tenderness that dwelt within Eliani, he spun dizzily back into himself. It was a moment before he felt steady enough to open his eyes and look toward the court end of the walk.
Someone walking past, a pair of females, heads together, talking. Turisan swallowed. The reception had spilled onto the arcade and into the gardens. This was no longer a safe trysting place. He sighed and glanced at his attire.
“I should get out of these leathers.”
Eliani smiled. “You must be weary.”
He wanted to take her in his arms again and prove how much strength he yet had. Instead, he offered her his arm.
“May I escort you to your chambers?”
She nodded, though he sensed slight disappointment from her. Her hand on his arm lit a fire through him, and he had to refrain from reaching for her in thought, lest he lose all sense of their surroundings as he led her down the walk.
She gave a small sigh. “I suppose I should try to rest if I am to ride tomorrow.”
“I offer to go in your stead.”
She laughed. “I wondered how long it would take you. Thank you, but it makes mo
re sense for me to go, particularly with the uncertainty about Fireshore's situation. I have kin there, my father's sister, Davhri. I can make a visit to her my excuse for entering the realm, if an excuse is needed.”
He began to reconsider his decision to keep apart from her this night. If this was their only chance before she departed …
“Here they are!” cried an excited voice as they stepped out of the walk into the fountain court.
“Turisan! Lord Turisan!”
“Hail the mindspeakers!”
As they were surrounded again by well-wishers, Turisan cast a rueful glance toward Eliani. She gave a small shrug of resignation and turned to greet their eager admirers.
Hallowhall
“Hail, Lady Eliani of Felisanin. On behalf of the Council I bid you carry this message to the governor of Fireshore.”
Lord Jharan held out a parchment sealed with the ribbons of all the realms attending the Council, so that there was scarcely any paper to be seen beneath them. Stifling a laugh, Eliani gravely bowed her head and bent down from the saddle to accept it.
“Ride swiftly, lady, and send us word as soon as you have it.”
“I shall.”
A cool breeze tossed the councillors' banners. Again the circle was crowded with well-wishers, and all the Council had come to bid her farewell.
She turned to Turisan, who stood smiling up at her. She felt the warmth of him, suddenly brilliant in her mind.
Spirits watch over your path, my love, and guide you safely back.
Thank you.
Eliani.
Her name in his thought was a caress, filled with longing. She felt him reach for her and closed her eyes, turning her head away even as she returned his wordless embrace. This was too strange and too intimate an indulgence in a public place. She withdrew, but leaned down to clasp his arm, a gesture for the benefit of those looking on.
“Farewell, Lord Turisan.”
“Farewell, my lady.”
Even the khi sharing of an arm clasp, muted by comparison with mindspeech, was almost too intense. She released him and turned her mount toward the city gates.
Luruthin fell in beside her as she left the circle, and Vanorin on her other side. The guard captain she had met at Midrange had volunteered for the honor of riding with her to Fireshore, as had an embarrassing number of others, and Jharan had allowed her to select those who would go. She had chosen Vanorin to command her escort because she knew him somewhat better than the rest.
Cheering followed her down the avenue, and she felt her cheeks begin to redden. If this sort of noise awaited her every time she showed her face in Glenhallow, she would inform Turisan that she intended to withdraw to the highest peak she could find and live as a hermit.
A child darted forward from the crowd, his hands full of golden cup-shaped flowers. Eliani's heart jumped as he came near her horse's hooves, but his mother snatched him up, then lifted him onto her shoulders so that he could offer his flowers to Eliani. She caught them, calling her thanks as her mount continued forward. The cheering grew louder.
Eliani raised the flowers to her face, inhaling their spicy-sweet scent. She was not familiar with this bloom but had smelled the fragrance before.
Can you smell this?
She took deep breaths, closing her eyes as she tried to share the impression with Turisan. The effort made her a little dizzy.
Honeycup. A favorite of our gardeners, though the bloom will be nearly finished by now. Where did you find it?
A child just gave me some.
Ah. The last fruits of his family's garden, no doubt.
Eliani glanced back, but the child and his mother had vanished into the throng. She tucked the flowers into a strap on her leathers, where she could bend her head to smell them.
I am at the gates now.
She sensed his warm farewell, returned it, then let go, withdrawing her thoughts to herself again. Though the crowd still cheered, her heart seemed wrapped in sudden silence.
So soon, to have become accustomed to his constant touch. It still frightened her, though she wanted it again, wanted it always. In some ways he was yet a stranger.
She turned her gaze ahead as she and her escort passed through Glenhallow's gates. She would search her heart as she rode and discard all the old fears, so that when she passed these portals again she would be free to embrace her new life.
Luruthin watched Eliani covertly as they rode, wondering each moment whether she was speaking with Turisan. The Greenglen was all courtesy so far. He hoped this journey would give Eliani time to accustom herself to this gift without the pressure of Turisan's evident admiration.
It was well after sunset when the party turned away from the road, following a creek up into a small valley nestled in the arms of the mountains. Vanorin led them to a campsite that bore subtle signs of prior use, in a sheltered arm of the foothills, with a stand of willows for a windbreak, grazing for horses, and a stream nearby. Luruthin had just turned his horse out to graze when Eliani joined him.
“Walk with me, Cousin. I have something to tell you.”
She led him downstream, away from the others. When they were well past the horses, she paused and for a moment stood gazing eastward toward the road and the Silverwash.
“Turisan has asked me to be handfasted with him.”
All the world seemed to stand still. Luruthin scarcely dared breathe, his mind trying to deny what he had heard. Eliani looked at him, her expression apologetic.
“I—have agreed.”
He stared at her even as she turned to look again at the river. She did not seem joyful. He swallowed, trying to command his voice.
“W-why?”
She gave a soft laugh and closed her eyes. “Because it is inevitable.”
“I thought … you have not …”
“I am sorry if this hurts you.”
He put out his hands as if warding off a blow. She turned to look at him, her eyes filled with worry. He drew a breath and chose his words carefully.
“You have not hurt me. If I am disappointed, that is my own concern.”
“I thought your feelings had changed long ago.”
He gave a sharp laugh. “Ah, Eliani. You never could see what lay at your feet.”
He took a step away, toward the camp. Heard Vanorin call out a command to one of the guardians.
He should have known that Turisan would waste no time. What amazed him was that the Greenglen had induced Eliani, who had been so evasive since her regrettable cup-bond, to agree to handfast.
He turned to look at her. “Eliani, are you sure?”
She smiled wistfully. “Sometimes. When he speaks to me, I am sure.”
He gazed back, suddenly seeing a stranger. She had moved into a world he did not know.
“Your gift has taken you from us. It will carry you far above us all, into the realm of legend.”
Eliani looked down at her dusty boots. “It is a mixed blessing.”
“I can see that.”
He strode a few steps westward, struggling in his heart. Eliani should not suffer because of his disappointed hopes. As her friend, her kindred, and one who cared for her, he should strive to lighten her burdens, not increase them.
The sun was going golden, sinking toward the Ebons. He was reminded of the previous day, when he had stood atop Skyruach with Turisan. Only a day ago.
He cleared his throat. “I do not know what message you gave him after he read the notes from Jharan and Felisan, but the look on his face was unutterable joy.” He drew a deep breath, trying to keep his voice steady as he turned back to her. “I w-wish you great happiness, Eliani, and I think you shall have it.”
She made a small dismayed sound, then ran two steps toward him and caught him in a tight hug. Startled, he stood frozen for a moment, then brought up his arms to hold her—lightly, ever so lightly, in case she wished to pull away.
He closed his eyes, inhaling. She smelled of new leather, but beneath was her own f
amiliar scent.
“Thank you.” Her voice was muffled against his chest.
Luruthin swallowed, blinking fiercely. He would not grieve, not until he was alone.
When he dared to speak again, he stepped back, suggesting that they rejoin the others. Eliani agreed, and they returned to the camp, where golden flames were leaping up into the twilight as the party gathered to share the evening meal.
The food was luxurious for trail fare, having been sent by Hallowhall's kitchens, but Luruthin had no appetite. He took some cheese and part of a loaf of soft bread and sat near the fire. Vanorin joined him and offered a small flask. Luruthin sipped from it, savoring mead laced with sunfruit.
“Thank you. A fine brew.”
Vanorin smiled. “My mother's.”
“She could win prizes with that.”
“She has.”
Luruthin nodded, unsurprised. He tore off a piece of bread but could not bring himself to eat it. Instead he stared into the fire, thinking of Eliani. She seemed content, but so had she been with Kelevon at first.
No, she had been blindly smitten with Kelevon. She showed no sign of that now. She was a little older and a good deal wiser. As long as Turisan did right by her, she would be happy.
He glanced around, looking for her, but she was not in sight. Gone into the woods, perhaps, to seek a private place to speak with Turisan.
Vanorin offered the mead again, and Luruthin accepted gratefully, taking a larger swallow. A nighthawk's cry made Vanorin sit up, suddenly alert. A second brought him to his feet.
“What is it?”
“Our sentry. Someone is on the road.”
Stuffing his uneaten bread and cheese into his pouch, Luruthin followed Vanorin up the nearest slope to a crag that afforded a view of the road. A female Greenglen met them and silently pointed out a solitary rider approaching from the north, traveling swiftly. He was not by looks a Greenglen and probably not a guardian, riding alone and at night.
Where was Eliani? The thought became suddenly urgent, though this single rider could be no threat to her. Luruthin cast a frowning glance back toward the camp.
Vanorin caught his eye and jerked his head downhill, indicating that they should return. Luruthin followed him, keeping silent until they were back beneath the willows.