The Night Holds the Moon

by Roberts, Parke; Thompson, Colleen

  When Caldan had revealed the hidden entrance and the passages beyond, Elzin's first delicious thought was that they had been used for clandestine romances between other Saires and their lovers. However, the pragmatic lord councilor assured her that it had been built with but one purpose in mind: escape for the Saire should the castle ever fall to an attack.

  Well, maybe so. Then again . . . She smoothed the coverlet with one languid finger. The tapestry swayed. With a child's eagerness she hopped from her bed at the soft grate of stone upon stone.

  o0o

  Count Val Torska put up a hand against the harsh brilliance that lanced beneath the weaving as he pushed it back. He was blinded and a roar like pounding water filled his ears, as if he had been thrust from deepest night into bright morning at the cataract where the Whitesnake joined the Elder.

  Elzin! He must find her!

  He lowered his hand, slitting dark eyes against the glare.

  "Great Lady!"

  She was the source of the light. Elzin's lips moved; the roar modulated, and now that he searched for the words within it, he understood.

  "-- sorry. I guess I didn't realize I'd lit so many candles. Look, though, I've brought a gift for you!" A silver necklace strung with a single coin depended from her hand.

  No, he thought, no Saire, not even the first, had any power unless the Flute played; eight hundred years of history had proved it. Until now. His ears still ringing, he allowed her to drop the necklace in his hand. The room darkened.

  "Caldan? Don't you like it?"

  He smiled, marveling that he could make out her timid query after the brutal pounding his ears had taken. "'Rival of the day, my lady/ the living to her lean as to the sun'. Do you know the passage?" She shook her curls.

  "No matter," he said. "But for a time you were that lady, shining like the sun upon the snow, and your voice the thunder of the avalanche that follows. I do not know if I can accept your gift. It would seem it has been meant for you."

  "Shining? Thunder? But I didn't see anything. I didn't hear –- oh! That must be why Beksann looked at me like--oh, Telriss! No wonder!" She laughed.

  "Where ever did you get such a thing?"

  "I found it, in the cleft where the Saireflute split the fireplace. I wonder how it got there. Do you think it was always hidden in it? Could the Saireflute have made it when I played?" Curiously, she touched the coin in the count's hand, and again her skin took on the unnatural radiance. Through closed lids, Caldan imagined he could feel her light, warm as spring sunrays.

  "Either may be so; I cannot say. It does seem to have an affinity for you, however." He smiled fondly at her and reversed the coin. "Definitely a coin of the realm, but very old. Ah! Here is the date. Six-hundred and sixty-eight--one hundred and forty-two years ago. King Oshnir ruled then, and Saire Fethzann held the Flute. Those were interesting times! Did you know that Saire Fethzann was the only Saire in the entire history of the Flute--so far as any mortal knows the history of the Flute--who ever married? Quite a scandal, as you may imagine. Naturally, the Mothers were mortified and the nobles nearly up in arms. She never had any children, though, and there was the pity I think. How strange and wonderful that might have been.”

  The Saire pulled her hand abruptly away and turned her back. Tenderly, but firmly, Caldan cupped his hands over her quaking shoulders, as if he would restrain two doves from taking wing.

  "Tell me."

  Elzin spun about again and clung to him. Hot tears soaked through Caldan's thick shirt as he stroked her unruly hair. He waited, not long, until she spoke.

  "I can't. You'll hate me."

  He cupped her chin and lifted it until her eyes met his. "There is nothing,” he said firmly, “that you could say to make me hate you, Elzin."

  "I am with child, Caldan. The Saireflute chose me, and I'm pregnant. Can you keep them from killing me?" She clutched the necklace desperately and thundered through the chamber, "Can even this keep me from being stoned?"

  "Great Lady," he said, gently prying her fingers from around the necklace. If her magically altered voice could be heard through the stone walls and oak door of the room, he resigned himself to the fact that he would find out soon enough. "Great Lady, no one will stone you." Guiding her to a chair, he sat on his heels before her.

  "Did you listen when I spoke of Saire Fethzann?"

  Elzin nodded as he wiped away her tears and continued. "She was so popular that she was able to marry. Not popular with the king, not popular with the nobles, but popular with the people. Great Lady, the common people are everything. If you make them happy, there is nowhere they cannot take you.

  "Saire Fethzann became powerful enough to defy the Mothers, the nobles, and even the king himself by getting the common folk to support her. She used to travel to the villages and play the Saireflute, so that all the people of Lhant, not just the wealthy or the noble, could witness its magic. She even came into Tarska once--only once, but my people still tell of it. Not eight in eighty-eight could tell you our last Saire's name, but every child knows the name of Saire Fethzann."

  She seized his idea as a drowning sailor might seize a lifeline. "Do you really think that I could do the same as Saire Fethzann? How wonderful, to get away from the Queen! I could see my friends. I could travel--I've always wanted to.

  "But won't the Queen be angry? Won't she guess what I'm up to? Maybe I'll march right into her throne room wearing the necklace and tell her that 'the Flute has given me especial instruction to be amongst my people'," she proclaimed, dissolving into giggles. "Why, she'll be so mad she'll pop her topknot!

  "Oh, Caldan, you've given me hope," she said as she impulsively hugged the councilor. "Thank you! I'll never forget this. I promise I won't."

  "Well. Your exuberance is gratifying, but perhaps you will not be so enthusiastic when I have finished," he ventured as he disentangled himself from Elzin and stood.

  "Your idea has more merit than you know. The necklace's power is the key. You must wear the coin and chain concealed when you tell the Queen the Flute compels you to play abroad." He laughed. "She will indeed `pop her topknot', and everyone will know at last the true color of the royal earlobes.

  "But mark you, Great Lady: this is no game. If she thinks you want this task, she will seek to keep you from it. When you go to her, think of saddle sores and long, cold drenchings, bad food and worse beds, for these and other hardships will be yours upon the road. Let your mind think them; let your face show them; and never forget who you fear." He lightly touched her center. "And why."

  "I won't forget. I've seen what she can do." She brightened. "I know! You'll come with me, when I tell her."

  "No, Great Lady."

  She frowned. "No?"

  "Yes, I would refuse you. Better I suffer your anger than that I should come, for if I do she will imagine a conspiracy and never let you leave. Saire Elzin, if the people are to love you, they must know you. You must get free of Castle Sheldwinn. You must approach the Queen alone."

  Elzin sighed. "You're right--though I wish you weren't. I'll see the Queen soon." She patted her belly. "After all, I haven't much time to spare."

  o0o

  The count gone and the silver necklace hidden, Elzin lingered in her steaming bath as Beksann trotted out and in. Did her Lady need fresh water? Heated towels? Help to rinse her hair? Did her stomach give her peace now? A tea of chamomile and mint before retiring might soothe her queasiness.

  Elzin let the old nurse pamper her. Beksann's concern seemed genuine enough, even if she reported to the Queen. The woman could hardly be blamed for that. Only an idiot deliberately disobeyed Her Majesty, and if being a spy was awful, it beat becoming a corpse by one of the Queen's cruel methods.

  No doubt the monarch knew through Beksann of her spells of morning illness. Elzin only hoped Her Majesty had not yet guessed their meaning. Perhaps she found it comforting, a sign of weakness.

  She leaned back against the padded headrest of the marble tub and thought. What
was it Caldan had told her? ‘Let them build their cage to hold a rabbit’ Maybe weakness would be just the thing.

  Chapter Four

  Throughout the night

  dark future's flight,

  will times makes itself known;

  when Dreamers dream,

  mist-shrouded scenes,

  rule flesh and blood and bone.

  --Kyr children's verse

  As the Saire walked through the castle halls, people stopped to stare. Some knelt as she passed. For beneath her somber black robe, Elzin wore the necklace, and her light preceded her.

  She had sent a messenger an hour ago to ask the Queen for an immediate audience. The Queen had just sent her messenger back, with a firm reminder about the meaning of the word immediate.

  Elzin was led into the throne room without the usual wait, and even the monarch's bored expression changed upon seeing her visitor's fearsome light. But when the Queen noticed that one of her ladies in waiting knelt to the Saire and that another prepared to do so, her face grew bright red in an instant.

  "Stand! Stand, you two imbeciles, or I'll have both your heads!" A physician touched her arm, a protective gesture she rewarded by driving her elbow into his middle. As he began to retch, the other fled, promising calming tonics. Her two guilty handmaids leaped to their feet, and Hulgmal settled back in her throne with a sudden, chilling serenity. "What brings you here to see me, Saire Elzin?" she asked with carious charm.

  But even the sovereign could not suppress the quiver of her many chins when Elzin's voice boomed through the room. "Your Majesty, the Saireflute has spoken to me."

  Hulgmal's sharp eyes caught a guard's knee bending, but her baleful glare brought him instantly back to his senses. She noticed something else, too. Despite her thunderous voice, Elzin looked decidedly ill. She thought about having a seat brought for the Saire, then quickly changed her mind.

  "Oh," said the Queen drily. "Have we a talking Flute now? How nice."

  Elzin shifted nervously from one foot to the other. "It didn't exactly speak, Your Majesty, it just told me. It wishes me to go among the commoners, Your Majesty, to play it for them all. But I’m afraid. I don't want to leave the castle."

  "I hardly think--"

  "Look out!"

  Lady Sandicrest shrieked as a guard flung himself away from the wall, a shower of shrapnel at his back. He rolled to his feet and spun, sword drawn, only to be nearly bowled over by the torrent of yapping pugs that swept past him from behind.

  The Saire's voice had loosened more than knees. Snarling furiously, the dogs clawed at the tangle of splinters and canvas, which had only moments before been a portrait of Hulgmal's two sons.

  Elzin swooned, but to Hulgmal's disappointment the blonde's two vigilant elite caught her as she reeled. They settled her gently to the floor, where she waved away their attentions.

  "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. This afternoon's ceremony… I guess I'm still weak." A pug yelped as the booming whisper dropped a fist-sized fragment of the ruined frame onto its upturned nose.

  "I should think you'd be more sorry about the picture, Saire Elzin. Your voice is most inconvenient." The Queen snapped fat fingers and the stream of pugs flowed back to its source. Grunting contentedly to herself, she waited as the animals squirmed and circled and finally settled on her lap. "I suppose you must do what your Flute tells you. Very well, Saire Elzin. Prepare to leave to be among your precious commoners at once."

  The blonde's weary expression gave way to surprise.

  "Don't sprawl there gaping like a simpleton, Saire Elzin; you make an ugly lump upon my carpet. Just go. Hurry, before I change my mind." Elzin's lips parted, but Hulgmal had already decided there would be no more thunder in her presence, the exception being her own. "Leave, I say! You are dismissed!"

  It looked more like a rout than a dismissal, the Queen thought with satisfaction as the pugs barked them down the runner and beyond.

  "Clear the room," she ordered. "And you--send for Count Val Torska. Tell him I wish to see him at once."

  The mangled remains of the portrait had not even been cleared away before the lord councilor's long strides carried him swiftly to the foot of Hulgmal's throne, where he gave her that effortlessly graceful bow that was the envy of the court. His black hounds seated themselves at either heel.

  "Your Majesty?"

  The Queen favored him with an appraising half-smile, one hair's breadth short of a leer. "I appreciate your visit, as always, Count Val Torska.

  "I have a special favor to ask which requires a delicate touch. That little tart we like to call a Saire has begged leave to make a journey to play the Saireflute for the commoners.

  "I'm troubled by the fact that our Elzin seems to have changed since this afternoon's Playing. She glows, Count, and her voice has grown huge. I have never seen the like.

  "I'm most concerned with the effect it's had already on the people around her. One of my ladies actually knelt, and I believe that the whole lot would have groveled if I hadn't taken the matter firmly into hand. Gods alone know what the common rabble will do if they see her this way.

  "That girl was in waiting here for six months, and I believe I know her well enough. She's clever, in a base sort of way, and she's not above flexing a little new-found muscle. I'm not as worried as I might be, though. She seems very ill. If I force her out into the elements at this time of year, she may grow sicker still, and that might put an end to this nonsense.

  "I know that you're something of a historian, Count," she continued sweetly. "I wonder if you know of something that might explain this sudden illness. We've all heard for years of magicians that are killed by their craft. Could the same be true of a Saire who tries to draw too much power from the Flute? Is there a historical precedent?"

  "No, Your Majesty, not to my knowledge. But your hypothesis has merit. Did she seem correspondingly weaker after this manifestation?"

  The Queen rubbed the topmost roll of fat beneath her chin thoughtfully. "She seemed weaker, yes. I've been told she'd been ill, but she was unable to even stand on her own by the time she'd left here. There is, unfortunately, one other possibility that I cannot dismiss. I am sure you are aware of the Candidate who was poisoned?"

  "Indeed I am. Most regrettable."

  "Of course," agreed Hulgmal with little conviction.

  "I have been unable to learn the origin of the attack," she said. "It could well be that the Saire has been given a type of poison, but I hope to be proven wrong in that suspicion. The presence of poison within the castle, and the willingness to use it on a person of such importance, distresses me."

  The Queen stared very hard at Val Torska, as if daring him to comment on her condemnation of the method. Satisfied he would not, she continued. "I would think, in either case, that it would be wise for her to leave the castle. I would like you to accompany the girl, however, because you are a man that I can trust. I do not wish to hear of knees bent to the Saire in every village. I do not wish to hear even the vaguest whispers of theocracy. I want her to grow weaker until she gives up this mad idea of playing for the commoners. If she uses this to gain power, if she uses this to try to usurp what is mine, well, it need not be said that I have ways of dealing with traitors and usurpers." The Queen's eyes narrowed as she contemplated the pleasure that those ways had given her in the past.

  "It would be an honor to accept this task from Your Majesty," he said easily. "However, I would like to request that the Saire begin her tour in my homeland of Tarska. It is necessary that I escort my daughter home and give my son instructions for running the province while I am away. I realize, of course, that I impose greatly on our Saire. The weather in the mountains is bitterly cold at this time of year. The places we could shelter would be tiny and far apart; the Saire's audiences, if any, would be meager. And, although I am certain that they will do their best, my people are poor, so the accommodations, when we have them, are bound to be rough. I would hope that such hardships would not endanger her hea
lth, or weaken the resolve of our Saire to play for the common folk of our isle, but…"

  The Queen chuckled at the Count’s eloquent shrug. "I see that I have chosen the right lord for this task. How soon can you leave?"

  "In two days time, Your Majesty."

  "Very well then. You may go." She admired his formal bow and then ventured, "Caldan, I really do think that we should get to know each other more personally when you return. I daresay we would both profit by such an alliance."

  He seemed surprised. Well, for all his fine manners, he was, after all, only a Tarskan; a savage become “noble” due only to some outlandish caprice of her great-grandfather. A handsome savage though, with his raven hair, jet black eyes and tall, trim figure. Perhaps he had thought his breeding beneath her notice.

  He answered with another graceful bow.

  That was the problem with men, thought Hulgmal as she watched him go, they had to be lured to your bed willingly, and once there, they could not be forced. Or rather, only so much of them could be. Fear was so… incapacitating for a male.

  Caldan was intelligent enough. He would make the right choice; he came from such a poor little province, and she could be very generous when it suited her. Together they would make a formidable pair. Yes, she would reward him very well, and he would be as safe a consort as she could wish. Nothing short of a miracle would make a highlander acceptable to the populace as a ruler, and she would see to it he remembered his place.

  And if he did not make the right choice? Well, it would be unfortunate for both of them. Having been forced to be so forward, she had opened herself up for refusal. She was Queen. A refusal, any refusal, would be treason. And handsome or not, useful or not, she tolerated treason from no one.