Destiny: Child Of Sky (67 page)

She stood with Oelendra in the great rotunda, admiring the craftsmanship and architecture. Unlike the simple, austere design of the Great Hall atop Tomingorllo, the main palace at the base of Newydd Dda was the showpiece of Tyrian, the place where ambassadors were once housed and international business conducted. It was set within a vast courtyard, surrounded by a massive wall with stone guard towers, far outstripping even the grandeur of the keep of the Lord Roland in Bethany.

Rhapsody's eyes, healing from the bitter, mistaken tears she had recently shed, took in the sights with wonder.

The rotunda itself contained an enormous circular hearth at its center, the fire of which warmed the expansive palace and its wings, keeping them at the perfect temperature year-round. The palace had been built around many tall trees that now grew within it, as did a wide variety of verdant plants and flowers, all of which were kept in a constant growing season by the heat circulating from the main hearth, imparting the feel of a conservatory.

A faceted crystal screen circled the hearth, and the prismatic reflections that bounced off it and around the main hall had a hypnotic effect on Rhapsody. She and Oelendra sat down on one of the cushioned wooden benches that faced the fire and waited for the Lord Protector to meet them.

Her eyes wandered over the intricately carved woodwork of the palace, polished to a mirrored shine for no one in particular. The floor was a giant mosaic of brightly colored marble, the patterns of which honored the formerly united factions of the Lirin, abstract representations of the sea, the plains, the forests, and the cities of Manosse. She had just returned from visiting two of these factions. The news was not promising.

Rhapsody looked up to see Rial striding toward them, smiling. The women rose as he approached, a fond look in his eyes. He took Rhapsody's hand and bent over it, then bowed to Oelendra, who returned the gesture.

'Welcome back, Rhapsody,“ he said, gently pulling her hand into the crook of his arm. "How was your visit to the plains?"

'Disturbing, I'm afraid,“ she replied as the three of them walked toward Rial's offices within the eastern wing of the palace. "The violence against the plains Lirin is apparently even worse than it is here; their lack of cover provides greater opportunity for random attack, as I expected. Their army is well trained but small; the incursions are escalating.“ . "Did they ask for assistance?"

'No, they were uncomfortable requesting help from the forest, even though they were once part of Tyrian. An alliance makes perfect sense; Tyrian can spare some of its guards to reinforce the army of the plains, and in turn they can guard your southern border."

'But will they agree?"

Rhapsody sighed. “I don't know. I guess it depends on how compelling they find my proposal to reunite." Rial held open the door to his tiny office, neatly kept but overflowing with manuscripts and scrolls.

Rhapsody looked around and shook her head. “Rial, since there's no king currently, why don't you move into the huge office that was kept for the monarch? It doesn't make sense for you, the person who handles all the trade and ambassadorial agreements, to be wedged in here with a shoehorn like this when that big one across the hall is standing empty and has been for a hundred years."

Rial offered the women the two chairs, leaning himself on the edge of the desk, and laughed. “You know, Rhapsody, you may vaguely resemble the Orlandan Cymrians, but you certainly talk like a Lirin."

Rhapsody smiled at him. The Lirin, in spite of their tradition of monarchy, were an egalitarian society. No marriage lottery existed; both men and women served in the army, as guards and ambassadors. Succession was granted to the oldest child, not the oldest son, and each monarch had to be confirmed by the joint Lirin council and by the diamond-shard crown itself. It was a mono-theist and a monogamist society, one that fit Rhapsody's values perfectly.

'Thank you,“ she said sincerely. Then a thought occurred to her. "Interestingly enough, Lord Tristan Steward once informed me that, while I looked like a Cymrian, I had the manners of a Bolg."

'Coming from a Cymrian, that's high praise, even if he doesn't know it," observed Oelendra dryly. Rial and Rhapsody laughed.

'So how do you suggest we proceed?" Rial asked, settling into the chair behind his desk.

'Well, I think we should meet in the throne room in council with all the Lirin ambassadors. The power of the demon is growing because it is somehow able to temporarily bind soldiers of each faction to missions of murder they don't remember. I'm sure this is true of the human incursions into Lirin lands as well. So the first step is to resolve the petty differences between the various Lirin factions and bring them back together. That way the F'dor will have fewer camps it can divide against each other."

'And then?"

'Second, we meet with Tristan Steward and his dukes. We form an alliance with Roland."

Rial whistled. “I'm afraid you don't understand the difficulty of what you are suggesting, my dear."

'Yes, and that's precisely why she has the wisdom to want to try it,“ Oelen dra said, smiling at Rhapsody. "Sometimes what's needed is a new eye that has not been informed of all the reasons why success is impossible." Rial nodded.

'The Bolg and Roland already have a treaty; Sorbold has one with both of those lands, and with the Lirin as well. The Nonaligned States have their own problems, but the demon doesn't seem to be focusing too much there, though I predict they are next. Whoever is starting these incursions has access to the soldiers of each land. Once we are aligned we can flush that person out. It really can only be one of a handful of people, who can move from camp to camp, unchallenged."

“Prostitutes? Merchants?" “Perhaps," Rhapsody said, nodding.

'What about Anborn ap Gwylliam?“ asked Oelendra. "He has the access you mention among all lands, even the Nonaligned States and the countries past the Hintervold. He has fought on and against all sides. Who better to pass among them unsuspected?"

Rhapsody thought of her rescue at the Kinsman's hands, his rough but careful ministrations to her after he had saved her from the storm. Her stomach tightened at the thought of his duplicity, but she couldn't deny its possibility. Then a more frightening thought occurred to her. If Anborn was the demon, she had slept alone in his hut, been vulnerable in his presence. Perhaps she herself had been bound, might be his thrall even now, unwittingly. The idea was too much to contemplate.

'We can't rule out anyone at this point,“ she said, rising. "Well, what do you say, Rial? Is it worth a diplomatic parlay?"

Rial smiled. “It is, Rhapsody, if only for the opportunity to watch you wrap those hardboiled curmudgeons around your finger."

Curmudgeonly was far too nice a word to describe the behavior of the Lirin ambassadors, Rhapsody decided many hours later as darkness came to the land.

They had been arguing nonstop since the first two had arrived in the Great Hall at the top of Tomingorllo, and as each successive representative had joined the discussion it had become proportionally uglier. Finally she rapped on the wooden bench for their attention.

'This is ridiculous,“ she said, exasperation in her voice. "I can almost understand this kind of behavior in Roland; they have so many conflicting lines of succession, Cymrian and not, that it almost excuses them acting like children at a birthday party fighting over the extra sweetmeats.

'But you, ladies and gentlemen, confound me. You are Lirin, the longest-lived of all the races common in these lands. You have seen centuries of conflict and bloodshed. You have witnessed it yourselves, not through the words of legend, but through your own eyes, in the deaths of your own relatives. What is it going to take to awaken you to what's happening here? Soon it will be unnecessary for the enemy to destroy your lands; you will do it to yourselves! This should be the easiest group to convince, but you seem intent on arguing about nothing.

'The only thing you appear to agree on is that you don't trust Roland, and its Cymrian lineage, despite the fact that many of your own people are of that lineage, too. Very well, let me ask you this: if it was Anwyn who destroyed the Diamond, leaving your line of succession unclear, why would you want that to continue? The ancestors of Roland will keep you divided and weak forever. Rise above it! Choose one among you who can see these people not as plains Lirin, or sea Lirin, or forest Lirin, or Manossian Lirin, but Lirin! This should be simple."

The ambassadors stared at her, dumbfounded. Finally Temberhal, the representative of Tyrian to Manosse, shook off his trance and addressed her politely.

'Precisely how would you propose we do that, m'lady?"

'First, agree to unite. Maintain your independent leadership under a ruler who agrees to recognize it, and swear loyalty to him or her. Can you all agree to that, at least in theory?" The ambassadors looked at each other, then nodded, one by one.

“Good. Next, each of you pledge that fealty on the crown. It had always been seen as a judge of wisdom before; ask its assistance in choosing a worthy candidate now. Agree to abide by its decision. Then go back to your various lands and return with anyone you know to be an appropriate possibility for High King or Queen of all the Lirin, and see who it chooses. Coronate him or her immediately. Fair enough?"

Silence hung over the throne room for a moment, then the ambassadors returned to their discussions. This time the conversations seemed constructive, however, and Rhapsody looked to Oelendra, who smiled and nodded slightly.

She let loose a sigh, and stared out the center opening in the ceiling at the stars as they appeared in the deepening sky. She had sung the greeting to them softly on the frosty hillside outside the Great Hall as the sun was setting, causing the first break in the arguments inside. When she and Oelendra had turned to go back into the building they found the ambassadors gawking at them from the doorway. The peace was temporary, however, and a few moments later their fighting resumed again. Now at least they were talking pleasantly.

Oelendra rose as the ambassadors' discussions continued and came over to her, sitting down next to her on the great circular bench.

'What's your next move? If they don't agree soon, that is?"

'I intend to starve them into compliance,“ Rhapsody answered solemnly. "I told Rial not to allow any food to be brought here, and not to feed any of them, until they agree. Hardly a good way to achieve consensus, but I'm running out of patience. Next I'm going to stop feeding the fireplace and freeze them until they comply."

Oelendra chuckled, and Rhapsody shook her head. “You know, Oelendra, this has been an eye-opening experience for me. I'm not sure what I expected to be able to assist with here, having no real place in this society myself, but whatever I had thought to accomplish I was wrong. I guess I'm not cut out for diplomacy or its facilitation."

'Nonsense,“ said Oelendra. "First off, what you bring, in addition to your other skills, is the very fact that you are not aligned to any of these factions.

-

You can't be seen as biased. In addition, you have no idea how remarkable it is that these people have even agreed to stay in the same room this long; it is undoubtedly a record. Whatever happens here, Rhapsody, that in itself is a tremendous accomplishment. It is not often that a warrior can act as a conciliator."

'I don't think I qualify as either, actually," Rhapsody said seriously.

'Now stop it,“ Oelendra said sternly. "We discussed this all the way to the court of the sea Lirin. You did not fail Llauron; he refused your service. The Iliachenva'ar needs to respect the customs of the religious leaders he or she protects, Rhapsody.

There was nothing you could have done but what you did."

Rhapsody looked away. She had not told her friend that Llauron was alive, despite her desire to confide the information to someone. She doubted she could even bring herself to tell Achmed or Grunthor, though she was certain Ashe would understand if she did. She rubbed her eyes, trying to soothe the headache pounding behind them. She was tired of carrying other people's secrets. Her own were heavy enough.

'M'lady?" Rhapsody looked up to see Temberhal standing over her, the other ambassadors behind him. The noble epithet he had addressed her with always caused her to grimace, as the title she had, Duchess of Elysian, was given to her as a joke.

'Yes?"

'We have reached consensus. We agree to unite."

Her headache vanished at the words, and she stood immediately and embraced Oelendra.

'Wonderful,“ she said, smiling at Temberhal and the others, whose faces reflected her grin immediately. "Thank the stars. Now, first things first. Rial, let's eat. I'm starving." After the palace pages had cleared away the supper utensils, the ambassadors took their places around the crown. As Lord Protector it fell to Rial to invoke the pledge, and he stood, looking ecstatic and nervous, with his hand on the glass case that the crown rested beneath.

Rhapsody smiled at him, the excitement of the moment in his eyes. She hoped secretly that the crown would ultimately choose him; she felt his wisdom and kindness would go a long way to bringing the fractured Lirin people back together again. Then a thought occurred to her.

'Rial, may I call starlight upon the crown to bless it before you begin?" She looked at him, his grin growing broader as he nodded, then around to the others, who agreed as well.

Rhapsody drew Daystar Clarion and felt the rush of power as the sword savored the moment. A brilliant light flashed as it came forth from its black ivory scabbard, causing the ambassadors and even Oelendra to shield their eyes.

Rhapsody walked to the center of the room and raised the sword to the night sky, closing her eyes. She began to sing extemporaneously, calling to the stars to bless the crown of their children with light and ancient wisdom.

In response, a beam of intense brilliance descended from the heavens through the circular opening in the ceiling, bathing the crown and its pedestal, as well as the ambassadors who stood around it, in white illumination brighter than the sun. With her eyes closed Rhapsody could feel its light, and a moment later heard a deep song begin within the throne room. It was the song of the crown, unheard for generations untold; its music reached into the hearts of all present, leaving them transfixed.