The White Road of the Moon
Page 34
“And to spare!” But then Carad Mereth added more gently, “Moran Diorr was a great city, you know. There will be room and to spare for all your people in the City of Bells, if you are High King and have authority to offer it to them. Princes will do battle over Moran Diorr, you know, if you do not claim it. They will raise up armies and march to war. But if you claim the City of Bells, it will fall gently into your hand.”
The boy nodded, and sighed.
“You will do well,” said Diöllin, smiling. Now at last she set her hand on her brother’s shoulder, dropping a quick kiss on the top of his head.
Herren put his hand over his sister’s. He met her eyes, unsmiling but intense, and then said to Roann, “If I will be High King, then Diöllin will be princess of Cora Tal. Until she marries, there will be quarrels among the lords who are most ambitious to rule by her side. If she chose to marry you, I would be glad of it, Lord Roann.”
Tiamanaith opened her mouth but then said nothing. Both Diöllin and Roann stared at Herren for a long moment. Then Diöllin laughed and lifted her eyebrows at Roann, and the man bent his head and answered soberly, “My king, I will justify your trust in me.”
“Of course you will!” said Diöllin. “That’s never been in question!” She sent a cool look at her mother.
Tiamanaith still said nothing. A faint flush had risen into her cheeks. Meridy measured Herren, and Diöllin standing beside him, and Lord Roann, and found herself confident that no one would need to fear Tiamanaith making any unwise bargains in the future, even if somewhere the ghost of another long-dead sorceress might possibly wander the world.
“And you?” Herren said to Carad Mereth. “Where you will go?”
“I?” The sorcerer pretended he was surprised by the question. “I have no place in the Kingdom you will build. I am the Storm Crow, flying always on the breath of disaster. You may be sure, there is always a disaster poised to fall somewhere. But not here, not for the coming age, I hope.”
Herren paused. Then he came forward to take Carad Mereth’s hands and say gravely and formally, like a king, “You have my thanks, then. I think you are due that.”
“I think so too,” Carad Mereth answered, looking very pleased with himself. “We shall see. Later years will judge us both.” Then, turning to Meridy, he said more soberly, “Well, my rose child? You have become a sorceress; that is not a choice you can unmake. But you have the courage for it, and the determination, and the fortitude to bear the cost. Will you come with me? I will teach you the song of the stars and the language of the earth and the ways that lead from one realm to the next—”
“You think I should want to fly always on the breath of disaster?” Meridy asked him.
Carad Mereth paused. “Well—that is—”
“No, never mind.” Meridy found herself smiling, though she could feel that it was a crooked smile, with sorrow behind it, and the acceptance of sorrow. “Yes, of course I’ll come with you. I always meant to.” Then she looked at Niniol and hesitated.
“Oh, I’ll come along,” he said mildly. “You’re my anchor, after all. I’m not so weary of this world as to be impatient for the God’s realm. My wife will be there when I go, however long I linger here. And you’ll need a man who can give you practical advice instead of just the song of the stars.”
Meridy bowed her head, as grateful for Niniol’s stolid assurance as for Iëhiy’s good cheer. “Yes,” she said in a low voice. “I would be glad of that.” Then she looked doubtfully at Herren and Diöllin and the others.
“You’ll visit me, of course,” Herren told her—nearly an order. The boy added seriously, “Never mind where you might go and what you might learn. You must come visit me in Moran Diorr.”
“Visit us,” agreed Diöllin, smiling. “I’ll establish a new capital in Cora Talen, I suppose. I’ll plant a great circle of trees all around the city. Apple trees, maybe. They’d be more welcoming than a ring of mountains, not to mention easier to raise up.”
“I shouldn’t be at all surprised if you find the trees of your encircling orchards growing taller and more swiftly than ordinary trees, and bearing apples with flesh as white as the light of the moon,” Carad Mereth said wryly. “Magic does tend to linger about those who have set foot upon the White Road of the Moon.”
Meridy laughed a little because she knew this was true, and because she knew that in a sense they had never stepped off the White Road. She was not exactly happy, not yet. The loss and sorrow and fury of the past days all clung too close to her still for happiness. But she was beginning to feel, cautiously, that happiness was possible. “I’ll come visit you in Cora Talen and see your orchards,” she promised Diöllin. “And you, Herren, I’ll see you in Moran Diorr.” She looked around at them all: Diöllin and Herren, Lord Roann and his brother, and even Princess Tiamanaith. She said, “Perhaps we can all meet in the City of Bells. In a year, maybe. And it will be our city, all of ours, raised out of memory, with all its bells tuned to living joy as well as old sorrow.”
“In a year, they will ring to welcome you,” Herren agreed, smiling, but serious, too. “In a year, I will set all the bells of Moran Diorr to ringing. Promise me you will come when you hear them.”
“Yes, I will,” Meridy told him. “One year from today.” And she laughed, because she knew it was ridiculous to imagine that even the ten thousand bells of Moran Diorr could be heard not only in the world but all through the realms of dreams and memory. Yet she knew at the same time that it was true.
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