Lucien

by James Moloney

  Tamlyn did his best to comfort me. ‘Geran won’t betray Lucien.’ But he could have repeated those words for a hundred years and it wouldn’t have done any good.

  Then the Elders were at the door. Birchon’s face appeared at the bars while the bolts were drawn back, and Delgar was behind him, with three others, not members of the Circle, but younger, stronger men.

  As soon as they entered, Birchon gave the order. ‘Take the boy.’

  ‘No, leave him with me,’ I begged.

  Tamlyn tried to lift himself from his stretcher, but his strength hadn’t yet returned and he fell back, exhausted.

  Ryall launched himself at the first of the younger men as soon as he started across the cell towards Lucien. The man was bigger than him and Ryall would have struggled to stop him even with two good arms. I worried the man would throw him against the hard stone walls. It didn’t happen that way, thanks to Ryall’s dogged spirit. He grabbed hold of the man’s arms and forced him back a pace.

  I took a closer look as Ryall tried to wrestle the man away from Lucien. The grip of his hand … there was something odd about it … Then it came to me.

  ‘Look, Ryall! Look at your arm,’ I shouted.

  My cry distracted him and he pulled away from the man, his arms stretched out. His sleeves fell back, leaving his hands exposed. And that was it — I saw two hands.

  As Ryall stood panting frantically, determined to protect Lucien, he saw it, too. His left arm no longer ended in a knob of bone, but a wrist and a hand, and from that hand extended four perfect fingers and a thumb.

  He cried out, half in shock and half in delight, and forgot all about fighting off the intruder. He brought both hands together, stretched out flat, each a mirror image of the other, then wiggled the fingers of his left and touched them with the fingers of his good hand.

  ‘They’re real,’ he said. ‘It’s not a dream. My arm has grown back.’ He turned to Birchon and Delgar. ‘Why have you done this?’

  It didn’t make sense to me, either. Weren’t they planning to kill us all?

  Delgar came forward for a closer look, then glanced over his shoulder at Birchon. ‘Fully restored. I don’t understand it.’

  He turned back to Ryall. ‘This feat is beyond anything the Felan can do. Even together, the Circle can’t alter the body in such a way. You must look elsewhere for the magician.’

  ‘It has to be someone among the Felan,’ I said, shock making my voice soft. ‘No one else even knows about Ryall’s arm. Who would care enough to do such a thing, anyway?’

  And there was the beginning of an answer. Not the Felan, that was certain, and their magic simply wasn’t strong enough. Not Tamlyn, because he no longer carried magic within him; and besides, if he had been capable of such a thing, he would have conjured the enchantment long ago. There was only one other.

  I looked over to where Lucien was sitting calmly in the corner where he had spent the entire day, not once running around the room as he would usually do to stretch his legs. For days now he’d had no energy, and I was beginning to suspect why.

  ‘Come to me, Lucien,’ I called, sinking to my knees to set myself on the same level as his little figure. I opened my arms and this proved too much for him to resist. I hugged him for a moment, then held him at arm’s length to look into his face. ‘Darling, did you do something to Ryall’s arm?’

  For long seconds, Lucien returned my gaze, then broke off to look up at the solemn faces of Birchon and Delgar, who waited for his answer as anxiously as I did.

  Ryall came to us and dropped to his haunches. ‘Did you help me?’ he asked Lucien, holding out his arm.

  Lucien stretched out his own hand and ran the plump pads of his fingers over Ryall’s new arm. ‘Your old arm made you sad. I want you to be happy. Are you happy now, Ryall?’ he asked, with such innocence I fought back tears.

  Ryall took Lucien in his arms. ‘It was you! You gave me a new arm and now I have two again. Yes, I’m very happy, Lucien.’

  I stood as straight as I could and faced the Elders. ‘Did you hear what he said? He wants Ryall to be happy. How can you think of killing a boy with such good in his heart?’

  ‘This is a trick of some kind,’ said Delgar. ‘The boy is a Wyrdborn. There is no compassion in his body. It’s impossible. The Wyrdborn have no feeling, they care nothing for whether another is happy. This has been known for centuries. It’s why we left Athlane.’

  ‘Explain the trick, then, Delgar,’ said Birchon.

  But Delgar couldn’t, and no amount of bluster on his part could change what this meant.

  I took Lucien back into my arms, no longer afraid to be seen with him in this pose. In fact, I was beginning to see this as our best hope. I kissed him on the forehead and held him close so he snuggled against me, wanting them to see how much he enjoyed the intimacy. That was another emotion the Wyrdborn could not feel, and yet here was the most fearsome Wyrdborn of all, according to the ancient mosaics, cuddling a commonfolk girl purely for the joy it brought him.

  ‘I can make no sense of this,’ said Delgar. ‘A Wyrdborn who seeks love, who uses his magic to aid a friend instead of to destroy him? There has never been such a thing. The Circle should hear of this, Birchon. We have more to discuss.’

  Birchon turned to me. ‘For now, it seems, the boy has earned a reprieve.’

  And with those words, the Elders departed, leaving the woman to once again shoot home the bolts in the door of our prison.

  ‘A reprieve,’ I said to Ryall, as soon as they were gone. ‘That means they might come back at any time.’

  He responded with a grim nod, yet soon joy returned to his face, and how could I blame him? For Ryall, the last few minutes had brought the most wonderful discovery. While I watched, he flexed his left arm, formed the fingers into a claw and snatched up strands of straw one at a time, proving that it was as nimble as his right hand. He quickly tied the strands into knots, his two hands working together as skilfully as they had before he lost his arm.

  ‘You don’t know what this means to me, Silvermay,’ he said when he found me watching.

  ‘I do, Ryall, and I’m glad for you.’

  He wasn’t about to forget who had ended his misery. ‘You’ve done a great thing, Lucien. Come here and let me give you another hug.’

  Lucien made a game out of it, running from Ryall, who chased him until they ended up in a giggling heap amid the straw. But when Ryall held onto him for too long, Lucien demanded to be set free. Was it a sign that his Wyrdborn nature still made him uncomfortable with too much affection, I wondered, or was he simply being a little boy who preferred to race around? He didn’t always want my cuddles, after all.

  I called him to me and held up my hand. ‘Whose is the biggest?’

  He grinned and pressed his palm to mine. ‘You,’ he declared, and once again I gave thanks for his delight in the intimacy of our touching.

  ‘You earned your own escape today, Lucien,’ I said, even though he didn’t understand what I was saying.

  I knew the Elders would return, though, and what would I do then? What could I do? The sortelle tattoo on his arm, the good will he had shown by restoring Ryall’s arm, these would not save him a second time.

  I looked over at the figure dozing in the centre of the room. Was that another murmur coming from Tamlyn’s lips? I went closer, and rejoiced when his arm moved at my touch.

  He opened his eyes. ‘Silvermay! Did I drop off to sleep again?’

  ‘You’ve done little else since they brought you in here,’ I said with a smile. ‘And you missed the excitement, too.’

  I called Ryall over to show Tamlyn his arm. Tamlyn was as shocked as I’d been, and as pleased.

  ‘Lucien did this? I had no idea Wyrdborn magic could do such a thing.’

  ‘Only his, I think. He’s certainly astounded the Elders.’ And I told Tamlyn what had happened in the Great Hall when it was Lucien’s turn in the white circle.

  ‘Poor Geran,’ Tamlyn sai
d. ‘She will be treated like an enemy of her people because of this.’

  Consumed by fear for Lucien, I had barely given Geran a thought and here was my Tamlyn showing concern for her. My face broke into a broad smile, despite the seriousness of our discussion.

  ‘What is it, Silvermay?’ Tamlyn asked.

  ‘You,’ I answered. ‘You’re afraid for Geran. You care for how she must be feeling, for her future. It’s what the commonfolk do.’

  ‘But not a Wyrdborn,’ he said, finishing the thought for me. ‘I am one of the commonfolk now, Silvermay, like you. I submitted to the Felan’s magic so that I could feel such things.’

  And does it make you love me all the stronger, I wanted to ask, but there were some things that would have to wait until I had Tamlyn all to myself. I longed for those moments, and resented these prison walls for how they allowed so little privacy as much as because they prevented our escape.

  Our lunch was delivered, and after a hearty meal Tamlyn slipped into sleep for an hour, but by mid-afternoon he was bright-eyed again.

  ‘Lend me that good arm of yours, Ryall,’ he called and, with me helping on the other side, he rose tentatively to his feet. ‘That’s better.’

  He worked his shoulders to loosen the stiffness, and after a little more flexing he seemed recovered at last.

  ‘You spoke of a kiss, to test my commonfolk credentials,’ he whispered.

  I didn’t want a stolen peck on the lips, for it wouldn’t tell me a thing, and besides, I was hoping for something more romantic. My mind had built quite a scene, and again I cursed our prison walls.

  ‘Later,’ I murmured in reply, and with a flick of his eyes towards Ryall and Lucien, Tamlyn showed that he understood.

  ‘We need to talk about Lucien,’ I whispered. ‘What are we going to do when they come back? They want to kill him like a criminal. How will we stop them?’

  ‘You did it once with the eloquence of your words, Silvermay. You can do it again.’

  I shook my head. ‘Words won’t work on those who have set their hearts against him. I might as well throw pebbles against a wall.’

  I didn’t add that I couldn’t bear to carry that responsibility a second time. I needed others to take the load. I needed Tamlyn. He seemed to read this in my face and held back his answer until he had explored our prison more thoroughly.

  ‘Once I would have pulled the bars free from that window,’ he said.

  He reached up, took a firm grip on one of the bars and tugged at it. He knew it wouldn’t budge, but I understood that he needed to be reminded of what he had given up.

  I went to him and put my hand on his shoulder. ‘Do you regret giving up your strength?’

  ‘My strength would be handy for escape,’ he said, ‘but no, not when you touch me so tenderly, Silvermay.’

  Those words were better than any kiss. I knew I would replay them later when I wasn’t so worried about Lucien.

  ‘Do you have any other ideas?’ I asked.

  Ryall had seen what Tamlyn was up to and came closer to hear what we were discussing.

  ‘They’ll have a fight on their hands, if they come again for Lucien,’ he said.

  ‘There will be many of them,’ Tamlyn said, ‘bearing the strongest magic the Felan can muster. He must be gone from here before that happens.’

  ‘But you just tried the bars yourself,’ I said. ‘No ordinary man can pull them free, and the door is the same. Only a Wyrdborn can break us out of here.’

  ‘You’re right,’ said Tamlyn, and to my surprise he turned to stare at Lucien.

  ‘No,’ I said instantly. ‘He’s not up to such feats.’

  ‘Don’t be so sure. It took a powerful magic to grow Ryall’s arm so quickly and so perfectly. Lucien is quickly learning what lies inside him. He could probably haul those bars out of the window right now if we asked him to.’

  ‘I’ve already talked about this with Ryall,’ I said, dropping my voice. We didn’t want our words leaking into the passageway outside. ‘Getting out of this room would be the easy part. We’re in a foreign land and surrounded by people much better at tracking us down than commonfolk would be. And how would we get a ship back to Athlane when the Felan sailors aren’t as easily bought with gold?’

  ‘There are other ways to convince a captain to take us on board.’

  It took a moment for me to work out what Tamlyn was suggesting.

  ‘No,’ I snapped. ‘I won’t let Lucien threaten people with his magic. Ever since I learned what he is, I’ve wanted the opposite.’ How could Tamlyn be thinking of such a thing? Now that I’d guessed the plan he was concocting, I saw other dangers. ‘The Felan will come after us. Would you use his power to fight our way free?’

  ‘There’s no other way, Silvermay. It’s Lucien’s life we are trying to save. It will have to be his powers we use to do it.’

  ‘He would have to hurt people, perhaps kill them,’ I said.

  ‘Yes, before they kill him,’ Tamlyn insisted.

  I could see his point, but that only confused me and made me lash out.

  ‘It’s wrong,’ I said, but I had no words to back up my certainty.

  I would have to find them or lose the argument, I realised, because Ryall was standing shoulder to shoulder with Tamlyn to show what he thought about the matter.

  ‘Lucien’s magic is the key, Silvermay. We have no other weapons,’ said Ryall.

  ‘His magic comes from his Wyrdborn soul,’ I said. ‘That makes it evil.’

  ‘Was it an act of evil to give Ryall back his arm?’ asked Tamlyn.

  ‘Of course not,’ I snapped again.

  It was the only answer I could give and it pushed me deeper into confusion. Was there a way out?

  ‘Lucien’s only young,’ I went on. ‘He doesn’t understand what is good and right; he does things because he can. Your arm, Ryall, yes, it’s a wonderful thing, but before we met you in Nan Tocha, when Lucien was still feeding at Nerigold’s breast, he was killing things to make himself stronger — first a squirrel, then a fawn, and then Nerigold herself. He will have to face that horrible truth one day, and he’ll carry the pain of it for the rest of his life. I don’t want him to carry even more pain on our orders.’

  ‘Then talk of escape is pointless,’ said Tamlyn. ‘It seems to me you want us to be free of danger but you’re not prepared to fight with the weapons we have. If I were still a Wyrdborn, wouldn’t you want my help?’

  He spoke sharply, but I knew he wasn’t angry with me. He simply wanted me to understand.

  ‘I’m not a Wyrdborn any more, Silvermay,’ he finished. ‘I’ll do all that I can, but I am as weak and vulnerable as you now.’

  He turned away, dejected, and lay down on the stretcher where he had spent so much time asleep.

  He was vulnerable, yes, I had to agree, but not weak. Hadn’t he made a brave speech to the Felan about the strength he admired in the commonfolk?

  I went to him and, sitting with my legs beneath me, took his hand. ‘I’m sorry I spoke to you that way. I’m frightened and I’m not making much sense.’

  ‘It’s a man’s duty to fight his way out of trouble, Silvermay. Not just the Wyrdborn, but every man, and I am still a man for all the Felan did to me.’

  ‘I know it,’ I said. ‘I wouldn’t love you if you were afraid to fight when the need was there. It will take a while for you to accept what you can’t do any more. You were always a warrior alone, like all Wyrdborn, but from this day you will find your best strength as one among many.’

  9

  Invasion

  We settled to yet another night among the straw, no closer to saving Lucien. My only consolation was the company of Tamlyn, weary still from the magic, but alive and sending tentative smiles my way that promised the better days I’d dreamed of.

  Our breakfast was late the next morning. Poor Tamlyn, ravenous now that his body was returning to normal, pushed his face against the bars of the door, hoping to see the attendants coming. />
  ‘Something’s going on out there,’ he said when he returned to my side among the straw.

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘There’s a commotion of some kind — whispering, worried voices.’

  Before I could go to the door to listen, a face appeared at the bars and we heard the unmistakable click of a key in the lock.

  ‘Stand back against the wall where I can see you all,’ called the woman guard.

  I was becoming used to her bad temper, but this morning she seemed particularly agitated. And why did she want us to stand by the wall? She had never demanded such a thing on earlier visits. We soon discovered why when she entered the room alone, carrying everything on a large tray.

  ‘Where is your companion?’ Ryall asked.

  The woman made no reply, at first, although she couldn’t control her face as easily as her tongue. Deep concern etched her forehead and around her eyes.

  ‘He’s been called away,’ she conceded at last, but offered nothing more.

  It was a mystery that grew more questions as the morning wore on, for the ‘commotion’ as Tamlyn had called it seemed to have spread to the square outside. Since I wasn’t tall enough, even on tiptoe, to see through the high window, Tamlyn offered to sit me on his shoulders.

  ‘Oomph,’ he said when he rose to his feet, the skirts of my dress rucked up around the back of his head. ‘I don’t recall you being this heavy, Silvermay.’

  ‘That’s hardly a gallant thing to say to a lady.’

  He laughed, but his effort was another reminder that he had the strength of an ordinary man now, not a Wyrdborn. Once he was upright, he didn’t find me such a burden, and I wouldn’t have cared if he had because there was so much to distract me out in the square.

  ‘There are people everywhere,’ I said. ‘Mostly men by the look of it. Why are they gathering in groups like that?’

  ‘They are forming up into ranks,’ Tamlyn said.

  ‘Like soldiers, you mean?’

  ‘That’s what it looks like to me.’

  ‘But the Felan are a peaceful people,’ said Ryall. He couldn’t quite see out through the window and had to make do with little jumps and a fleeting glimpse each time. ‘Geran said they never fight wars over territory the way we do in Athlane.’