Fae Song EPUB

by Williams , Deonne

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  reach.” Shae’s explanation sounded befuddled to himself, but Gwynn nodded in agreement.

  “He was right. I have memories of things that I know have never happened to me. It is hard to understand, and I might not ever understand it completely. I will have to tell you of things as I sort it out. I know more songs now too, and I—oh, I don’t know where to begin!” she chuckled weakly. “There is so much!”

  “How about you tell us what you can a little at time, after you have eaten, had something to drink, and rested. If you ever scare me like that again, I swear I will kill you myself! Being scared is not something I do well,” Shae growled.

  “Well, I can’t sleep, because I’m too excited, so how about some food?”

  “Of course! At least that makes sense to me,” he laughed, gently setting her on her bedroll and rummaging through provisions. “You made me miss a few meals, too.”

  Shae made Gwynn tea while Gunnar toasted bread for her, and she began to tell them of her “new” memories, sometimes interrupting herself to explain things further.

  “Oh, and I have a little brother,” she squealed in sudden delight. “I always wanted one; now I have one!”

  “My brother Laef is the most annoying creature in all of Balahar. Why would you want one?”

  “His name is Dylan; he was born about a year after I went to Samhayne.” A shocked look ran across Gwynn’s face. “Oh gods! I have never been to Samhayne, but now I have lived there for almost two years!” She rubbed her forehead in delighted bewilderment. “I don’t know if I will ever sort this out, but I think Dylan is around five years old now.” “A baby brother? Ever so much worse as I can tell you that from my own experience,” he said, his affectionate 281

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  tone belying his words.

  Not long after the sun came up, the lack of rest from the past two days and the magic she had worked caught up with Gwynn. She fell asleep in the middle of a story about wanting to return to Inishmore to finish her studies. Darion took one look at Shae’s haggard features and told him to join her in slumber. His own exhaustion was so great; he did not argue, collapsing across his bedroll into sleep almost before Darion finished his sentence, for once, unaware of the arcane force behind the suggestion. He woke up long enough to eat in the early evening, but after talking it over with Darion, he had left his charge sleeping.

  In the morning, they all elected to let Gwynn sleep, but she surprised her companions by awakening an hour after the sun came up. “Good morning,” she piped, sitting up with a smile. “How is everyone feeling?”

  “Fine,” Shae told her, “but should I worry about you?

  You seem awfully cheerful for this time of day.”

  “I’m fine, too. We are under three hundred leagues from Samhayne, and I truly want to meet my brother, instead of just remembering him.” They broke camp together, but after they were mounted, Darion and Gunnar turned their horses westward. “Are you leaving us?” Gwynn asked, a catch in her voice when she looked at Darion.

  “Yes, I must go home and try to smooth things over with my parents and probably Elisan, too. I also recall that you and Shae wanted to reach Samhayne before fall, so you could compete in a contest, and he could make ready for his tournament. You are only a little further north than where I would have brought you, and I think that Elisan can teach you no more for now.” He leaned over from Freesa and kissed her cheek in farewell. “You know you can call for me from any rel ar should you need me, and you need only to think on finding one to locate the one closest to wherever 282

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  you might be.” Darion turned to Shae, his slanted golden eyes gleaming with the intensity of a hunting plains cat.

  “Look after our Gwynn well; she is very precious.”

  “I shall,” he said simply, extending his hand to Darion. “You have my oath on it.” Gunnar also wished them well, and Shae thanked him for the training in Heralith. “I learned some new things, which are going to come in handy at the Wintertide Tournament, especially with these.” Shae grinned while he patted the baldric carrying his rirani. “Give my best to Tasarian and Azrith.”

  They watched the Pathani disappear over the ridge above them before starting their horses southeast toward Samhayne. “Shae?”

  “What?”

  “Do you realize that we must have spent months in Heralith?”

  “I do, and we are not going to talk about it again.”

  A sidelong glance at him showed Gwynn the steely set in his jaw. “As you wish, venchar. I don’t believe I want to think about it either. So, two seven-nights or so of riding until we get to Samhayne?”

  “Maybe less, we need to trim some excess flesh off our horses. How far do you feel like riding today?”

  “As far as we can, my father and brother will be glad to see me!” The delight in Gwynn’s voice was infectious.

  “Good, let’s see what kind of time we can make.”

  Shae put Talon into a smart trot. “Come on, you fat excuse for a war horse. Samhayne is waiting for us!”

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  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  They settled back into their pre-Heralith traveling routine like there had never been an interruption. The long days of high summer allowed them to travel further into the evening before losing light, and Gwynn spent most of the time either telling Shae about the things she now remembered or in silence while still putting things together in her mind.

  He was glad that Gwynn did not seem to be permanently affected by having two sets of memories for the last several years. From some of the comments she had made, he suspected that she was simply convincing herself that the old, sadder memories were from a song about someone else. Whatever kept her sane and aware was fine with him.

  “Goddess bless! You are not the first Southron to look after me,” she announced suddenly while they finished dinner on the evening they regained the River Road.

  “I’m not? When else have you tortured one of us?”

  Shae questioned good-naturedly.

  Gwynn stuck her tongue at him before answering.

  “Remember when I told you that I argued with my father, because I wanted to return to Inishmore and finish my studies there? Da didn’t want to leave with Dylan being so young, and he didn’t trust anyone but himself to take me back. I spent days bothering him about what made a trustworthy escort until he finally said he would trust a 284

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  Southron to do it. But he didn’t do anything to find someone, so I went to the Southron quarter in Samhayne and found one myself. Her name was Iona; she was from the Bow Clan. I practiced archery and speaking Southron with her on the way to Inishmore.” Gwynn switched from the trade tongue to Southron. “Is my accent better now?”

  “Well, actually, yes, it is. The lilt you bards can’t keep out of every tongue you speak has disappeared. Poor Iona, you didn’t drive her mad, did you?”

  “I don’t think so. She did thank me for making it one of her more interesting trips when she said farewell in Inishmore.”

  “If we ever run into her, I’ll buy my poor Bow-sister a few drinks in commiseration,” he smirked.

  Gwynn threw a cheese rind across the fire at him before she got up to refill her water skin. “Bah, Southrons like things interesting; you said so yourself.”

  Shae watched her go to the stream while he reached inside his jerkin to reassure the security of a familiar pouch.

  He pulled it out, his good humor evaporating, because his conscience caught him. He had returned to the path of a Lifeguard and keeping this secret from his charge didn’t seem right. Shae wasn’t bothered by the threat to himself, but Gwynn didn’t deserve to be endangered by something she had no part in bringing about. He beckoned her to sit beside him at the fire when she returned. “Come here, little one,” he sighed, “I need to let you know about some unfinished business of mine. It began before I offered you my oath, but when you became my tashera, I should have told you.�
� It was the first time he had called her by the term; tashera was used only for the female charge of an oath bound Lifeguard, tashar being the male form.

  Gwynn recognized the pouch that had fallen from his jerkin the night she healed him. “This has something to do 285

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  with you getting hurt; does it not?”

  “It does. I told you that I took something from someone, who was not the rightful owner.” Shae dumped the contents on the edge of his blanket, and a pile of twinkling blue-green gems gleamed in the firelight. A few were loose, having been recklessly pried from their elaborate settings of antique gold, and many were the size of a small bird’s egg.

  Gwynn stared at the sparkling mound. “Who is the rightful owner? They must be worth a king’s ransom.”

  “Close to the mark, they belong to Rayna, and they have been worn by every queen of Hasdran since the time of Maeve I. This shade of emerald came from a small vein deep in the Caeross that was mined hundreds of years ago.

  The settings needed repair, and they were being sent back to Ironbarrow, so the family of the original gem smith could do the work. A few days before I arrived in Ironbarrow, the men carrying the emeralds were ambushed and slain.” Shae’s face hardened. “I knew those men from my time in Hasdran, and I couldn’t let it pass. Some generous liquor, a few coins, a threat or two, and I learned who had them; his name is Felton Kensian. I took them back and headed for Mazlo as fast as I could. The men who attacked me worked for him.”

  He stared down at the jewels, stirring them around with his finger. “I knew it would take a while for Kensian to find out that his men had failed, and I hoped to get quite a bit ahead of him. Disappearing while in Heralith certainly worked to my advantage, but it is probable Kensian is now aware that a Southron was seen in Rathgarven or one left Mazlo heading south a few days later. I have no doubt that I can keep us safe, but you need to realize that someone may be looking for me and the emeralds. I should have told you in Rathgarven, but I really felt, at the time, it was something you didn’t need to know. I’m sorry Gwynn,” he said heavily, 286

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  “it was wrong to keep it from you.”

  Gwynn took her friend’s hand. “You did what was right ; there is no reason to apologize to me. I could not have walked away and done nothing either.” She studied the jewels lying between them. “Would it help if they didn’t look like emeralds?”

  “It might. What do you suggest?” he asked.

  “Remember the glamour Darion used?” Shae nodded and she continued, “I think they should look like nothing of concern but be something that you would keep close at hand.” She frowned, thinking for a moment. “How about something a Southron might snack on?”

  “I do like walnuts,” Shae chuckled, his conscience beginning to recover somewhat.

  “Walnuts it is, then.” A moment later, the fiery pile faded away, and an equal size pile of brown nuts lay in their place. “You can change them back, right?” Shae questioned urgently.

  “Of course, it’s just glamour. They aren’t really walnuts,” Gwynn assured him with a laugh. After staring at them for a moment, Shae carefully picked them up and returned them to the pouch, noticing they still felt like jewels rather than nuts, nor did they have the feel of magic, something he appreciated.

  The fourth night they found a modest inn, and Gwynn nearly knocked Shae down getting to the door when hot water was brought to their room. “Oh, just wait until you see the baths at Asheri’s house! I swear; there must be half a dozen. I can’t wait to slide into one again, but this will have to do for now. Oh no you don’t!” she squealed, trying to dodge him when Shae grabbed her around the waist in a feigned attempt to prevent her from reaching her bath. She struggled against his iron grasp until she was breathless from 287

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  laughter. “Let me go,” she demanded. “I’m tired of being dirty, and the water is getting cold!”

  “You have an obsession with hot water and bathtubs,” Shae declared when he released her. Gwynn flounced through the door and slammed it behind her while he chuckled.

  Later that evening, when he poured them wine to go with the fruit and large hunk of cheese he had charmed from the kitchen, Shae announced, “We will probably be able to enjoy a very good supper in Robatan tomorrow night.”

  “Really? Are we that close to Samhayne?” Gwynn asked. “We are only two days out; does that make you happy?”

  “Ecstatic! Finish your snack, and I’m going to bed, so we can get on the road early!”

  The next morning, Gwynn was up and ready to go less than half an hour after Shae, but her enthusiasm was dampened for a bit just after midday when Rogue stumbled and came up favoring his near foreleg. A quick inspection revealed it to be nothing worse than a small stone lodged against his shoe, and once she pried it loose with her knife, he seemed to be fine, much to her relief.

  Shae dismounted when she did and was picking up Talon’s feet while grumbling. He frowned at her when he set the last hoof down. “Well, if I hadn’t already gotten an idea about the true amount of time we spent in Heralith, I would have one from looking at their shoes. Talon’s shoes are not quite so bad, since most farriers have enough sense to use heavy bar stock on Southronbreds, and their hooves grow slowly, but Rogue’s shoes are almost worn through, and they are growing loose. We need to get them replaced by the first farrier we find in Robatan. We should get in there early enough to take care of it late this afternoon, rather than 288

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  having to do it in the morning.” Before he remounted, he removed his leather vambraces and put on his silver ones, thinking that it would be appropriate for when they arrived at Samhayne’s outpost. Gwynn followed suit, attaching Rogue’s bridle bells and putting on her chain.

  Several leagues out from Robatan, the River Road began to descend the bluffs above the Dinar in a series of long switchbacks. Dodging around wains moving up and down the road took time, and Gwynn was almost bouncing out of her saddle in excitement when they finally caught sight of the town itself.

  Robatan was the most southern point of the Dinar that could be easily crossed by ferry. Just south of the town, the river spread into a series of channels and marshes that made crossing it with goods nearly impossible.

  The sea tides of the Dinar’s estuary were felt some way farther north of Robatan, and when they got close to the river, Gwynn wrinkled her nose at the smell of the tidal mud flats. “I had forgotten how bad low tide can smell in the summer,” she said. “Or, at least, how bad I now remember it can smell.”

  Shae agreed with her. The miasma of marsh in the sun was not a pleasant odor. “Well, at least, Samhayne is mostly up on the bluffs; there you have a sea breeze to keep the smell from rising.”

  Robatan had massive fortifications from its time as an outer defense for Samhayne, during its time as the capital of the Empire, but in the intervening years, the town had spread beyond the ancient walls. There were guards stationed at the gates, but here, they did not delay anyone asking their business when they passed through the immense portcullis.

  The first wain or those in the lead of a pack train were asked about their cargo and directed somewhere for registration from what Gwynn could tell. The guards waved them 289

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  through, not sparing either of them a second glance. Shae and Gwynn shared grins at the tweak of their pride; neither Southrons nor Bards of Inishmore made an impression on the guards of Robatan.

  Shae hailed a boy leading a string of packhorses and asked if he knew where they could find the courier station.

  He directed them several streets down closer to the river, telling Shae it was near the ferry docks. Sure enough, at the courier station, a tall bearded man with graying fair hair in a thick leather apron was watching critically as a younger female assistant leapt from the ground onto the bare back of a skewbald Southronbred courser and trotted him back and forth in the street.

  “That’s
good,” he told her in Southron, “he’s not interfering anymore.”

  Shae hailed him in the same language when he dismounted in front of the courier station. “How busy are you, rashane? My Talon needs new shoes and so does my tashera’s horse, but we can come back later if you need us to do so.” The farrier turned at the sound of his voice, and his green eyes caught the bracers on Shae’s forearms. “I’m never too busy to assist a Lifeguard or their tashera, il-rashane,” he answered respectfully. Calling Shae elder was the proper Southron form of address to Lifeguards from their countrymen. “But it happens that I am free now. I’m Lukan, Arkan’s son.”

  “Shae, Brashaen’s son.” He motioned Gwynn forward. “This is my tashera, Gwynn, Gryffyn’s daughter.”

  Lukan gave her the same firm forearm clasp he offered Shae. Gwynn was certain he nearly crushed her arm, but she was pleased at how easy it was to shield him from the magic she knew would bother him. “I’m glad to make your acquaintance, Lukan.”

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  Lukan’s eyes widened when Gwynn’s fae silver eyes met his, but his voice was brisk when he said, “You also, lady bard. Now, get the saddles off those poor animals. We don’t make horses stand in their tack while we work on their feet.”

  Lukan examined Rogue first and frowned fiercely at Gwynn when he saw how loose the gelding’s shoes were.

  She blushed and said, “I know it is not a good excuse, but we had no contact with civilization for a long time.” Lukan growled at her, but she forced herself to make further confession. “He picked up a stone this afternoon in the near front. I got it out, but could you please make sure it isn’t bruised?”

  “It is not bruised,” he admitted after examining Rogue’s hoof minutely. “But be more careful in the future.

  A horse is a noble and loyal companion that deserves the best of your care,” Lukan admonished, his green eyes containing the same intimidating blaze Shae’s often did when she had done something without thinking.