Destiny: Child Of Sky (96 page)

Exhaustion was setting in, and sadness was beginning to call to her soul again. She gave Analise a kiss, with the promise they would meet up the next day, and, when she was sure none of the celebrating Cymrians could see her, she tried to slip away in all haste for Elysian.

It didn't work. There were thousands now, primed with wine and in the mood to celebrate, calling her name, cheering her. Rhapsody thought she had spoken at supper with the major people, but, looking around, she saw no end in sight of well-wishers and important heads of state. To greet them all would be impossible, and to deal with just the heads of House would take long past dawn. She had to get out of there.

The crush of admiring subjects was beginning to make Rhapsody nauseated. She felt trapped, and panic was coursing through her, causing her palms to sweat and her heart to race. As the wall of humanity began to rush toward her, she saw a coppery glint out of the corner of her eye; Ashe, who himself was surrounded by well-wishers, was attempting, as politely as he could, to make his way to her side.

He caught her glance and signaled to her, then moved a little more through the crowd.

The prospect of speaking to him was more than Rhapsody could stand. She bolted again, and ran straight for Rial, whom she could see on the other side of the exit.

As she approached him a broad smile appeared that was quickly replaced by a look of concern when he saw the expression on her face. He held his hands out to her and she ran into his arms.

'M'lady, what's the matter?" He gave her a comforting squeeze, then pulled back from her to look into her eyes again.

'Please, Rial,“ she gasped, more from anxiety than exertion, "get me out of here.

Please; I'm going to break down if you don't."

Understanding took root in her viceroy immediately, and he executed a quick half-turn, pulling her under his arm as he did. His long red cape swung behind them both as they walked, and he spoke to her in a comforting tone, much like the one she used with frightened children.

'There, now, m'lady, don't worry. You've had an exhausting day, and everyone will understand. I believe you put in enough time at the feast to be polite; we'll get you away from here, and I'll make your apologies to the assemblage." He patted her hand gently as they walked, and she clutched his, hanging on for her sanity.

Ashe struggled to remain upright, such was the swell of the crowd. He endeavored to smile at each person who grabbed his shoulder, took his hand, or clapped him on the back. He knew Rhapsody would expect as much from him, and it was only her potential disapproval that kept him from drawing his sword and slashing a path clear to her through the annoying jackasses that barred his way.

The cacophony of voices and cheers was giving him a headache; he could not wait to be rid of this place and in her arms. It was a moment that he had waited for more than half a year, and if he was kept from it one moment longer, he was afraid of what might ensue.

As he broke free of another pocket of humanity he looked to where Rhapsody had been. She was gone.

He whirled around and let his dragon sense loose, but he couldn't feel her. He knew immediately she must have returned to Elysian, but then a chill swept over him as he realized this might not be the case. Rhapsody had been to many strange places in their time apart, and had learned techniques to hide herself even from him.

Maybe she wasn't there at all.

At any rate, he didn't have the time to misguess, as he had after Llauron's pretended death; if he should take the time to track her to the wrong place, the night would be gone before he caught up with her, and the Council would resume before he had given her memory back. He could not allow that to happen.

His eyes scanned around for clues and came perchance upon Oelendra. She had made her way out of the crowd and was walking slowly on the rim toward the night. He dashed for her and caught her arm, the words exploding before he could engage in any polite pleasantries.

'Where is she?"

Oelendra looked at him regretfully. “Congratulations, my Lord Cymrian. My best wishes to you for every good thing—"

'Where is Rhapsody? Oelendra, tell me, or by the gods, I'll—"

Oelendra's eyes narrowed. “Or you'll what? Don't start out on the wrong foot, m'lord."

'I'm sorry, Oelendra,“ Gwydion replied, subdued. "With one notable exception, there is no one I owe more to than you. But if you think I am going to be kept from my wife for one more second—

'Did you ask her before you named her Lady?"

Gwydion's face froze. “What do you mean?"

'Did you bother to ask her, or even tell her about what you planned to do?"

'When?“ he asked incredulously. "I haven't even bloody seen her for three months, Oelendra. I have gone slowly insane, waiting for permission to talk to my own wife, and it has never come."

'Perhaps there's a reason for that."

'There are undoubtedly many reasons, but none of them matter. I have to see her, Oelendra, I have to see her right now. Before anything else goes wrong, before Anborn presses his claim to her, or Achmed; gods, I have to tell her the truth.

Please, please help me. Did she go back to the Cauldron? Or did she go to Elysian?"

Oelendra looked into his eyes; they were already touched by new wisdom, the look of a true king. But deeper, and more encompassing, was the look of utter fear and despair of a frightened husband; the look of a man about to lose his soul. Her heart went out to him, but her honor stood between him and the information he needed.

Ashe knew her dilemma. “Oelendra, I know and admire your loyalty to Rhapsody, but you must know that the decisions she is making she is deciding in the dark, without some very important information. Instead of doing what she asked of you, please consider doing what she would want you to do if she had all the facts. Don't you think it will hurt her more if she takes any action that will compromise what she decided on that night six months ago? What do you think will happen to her when she eventually finds out what we have promised each other, if she has married another in the meantime?"

Oelendra got the point. Ashe watched the conflict in her eyes, holding his breath.

Finally he saw her decision register.

'Where do you think she would go to hide, to find comfort, where no one else might find her?"

Ashe understood. “She's in Elysian."

Oelendra smiled. “I wish you luck, m'lord."

As she crossed the edge of the plain that led into the pass to the Cauldron, Rhapsody glanced through the flickering light of distant torches and saw a dark figure packing up a dark horse. The man looked up at her and smiled broadly. Even in her desire to escape from the Bowl unnoticed, she felt compelled to stop and walked over to him, looking around to be sure the Cymrians hadn't followed. They hadn't; the wine was flowing now, along with the stronger spirits of the distilleries of Ylorc and Canderre, and loud drunken singing could be heard echoing off the Bowl.

Anborn stopped his packing for a moment and looked at her intently. “They certainly know how to celebrate, don't they?"

'I suppose it comes from all those years of needing a reason to,“ Rhapsody said, her eyes glittering in the dark. "Why did you do it?"

'Do what?“ He withered under her knowing glance. "Oh, Gwydion? I meant what I said; he is the most suited to lead them. The gods know he has far more patience for that sort of nonsense than I do. Besides, I could envision us all spending the rest of our lives in that damned Moot. The First Fleet would have felt compelled to argue at least a hundred years before they would agree to listen to anything I had to say, and frankly, I have better things to do."

Rhapsody's hand came to rest on his arm. “Why do I think it was more than that?"

Anborn sighed and threw his saddlebag over the horse's back. “Because, despite your tendency to put yourself in extraordinarily stupid situations, you are actually an extremely wise woman, one wise enough not to ask any more than she really needs to know." He looked directly into her eyes and smiled; she understood what he was saying.

'You're not staying for the rest of the meeting?"

Anborn shook his head. “I'm not the head of my House, and besides, I think I've done enough here, don't you?" They both laughed. Then Anborn took her hands as his face grew serious.

'I have to ask something of you, something that will be harder than anything I ever remember doing.“ His eyes twinkled within the serious expres sion. "Knowing my history as you do, you know that's saying a great deal about how difficult this will be."

Rhapsody's face grew solemn. “Ask anything of me; it's yours, without question or hesitation."

'Ah, ah, careful, my dear; I warned you a long time ago about making promises rashly, especially to someone who has wanted you from the moment he laid eyes on you. I could take you here quite easily; the ground is soft and relatively warm."

Blood rushed to her face, and Anborn laughed. “I'm sorry, Rhapsody, that was rude. This is what I have to tell you: I must ask you to release me from my promise to wed."

Rhapsody's face went blank for a moment, and the blood that had flushed her face spread throughout her body, leaving her weak and feeling a little sick. “All right,"

she said reluctantly. “May I ask you why?"

The great warrior gave her hands a gentle squeeze. “For three reasons. First, the Cymrians have chosen you for their Lady, and the truth is I passed up the Lordship because it would be a bore. As you know, the thing I cherish most in this world is my freedom. I might have had that as your husband, but if I had to fulfill a role of my own, that freedom would disappear under a hill of responsibilities and duties. I couldn't allow that, Rhapsody, not even for you."

She nodded. “I understand," she said, her eyes filled with respect for his honesty.

“Will you tell me the other reasons?"

Anborn sighed and examined the ground. “Well, as much as I agreed to the terms and understandings we set forth, I have to admit I don't think I'd much like being wed to someone who is in love with another man. You have done a good job of hiding it, my dear; I doubt anyone else knows. But I can tell; it's in your eyes. And, as much as I hate to admit it, I think I would be very jealous."

Rhapsody's face went red again, but the expression she found in Anborn's eyes was mild and understanding. The tension broke and they smiled at each other again.

'And the last?"

Anborn hesitated, then spoke. “I'm afraid I cannot live up to even the first condition you asked for. If I recall, the main reason you chose me is that I didn't love you." He looked away, and Rhapsody felt a tinge of pain rise in his throat.

She put her arms around him in a warm embrace. “That's ironic," she said softly. “I guess I can't live up to the terms myself."

Anborn laughed and returned her clasp. “Words a man could die happy upon hearing from you," he said. He pulled back and looked down at her; the roughness of his features softened for a moment, and he knelt down before her. “You have my allegiance, Rhapsody—my sworn allegiance, whether as Lady Cymrian or the Lady of the Lirin, or just as a lady. My sword and life are yours for your protection and need."

Rhapsody understood the significance of this pledge. “I am well and truly honored," she said softly, as she helped him rise. “Thank you, Anborn."

'And now, if you'll allow me, I'd like to kiss my almost-wife goodbye and be on my way before I give in to my baser nature and change my mind." Rhapsody smiled and came into his arms; they were strong and rough, as he was, and yet gentle as they wound around her waist.

His lips took hers warmly, gently at first, then with more insistence. She felt the heat from the fire inside her begin to rise and fill the spaces within herself that were reaching out, calling for him. The feeling shocked her, but she gave into it, sad in the knowledge that it would never come to pass. She could never be in love with him, or any man again, but she had grown accustomed to the prospect of living as his wife in comfortable friendship. She would miss him.

The kiss grew intimate, and she could feel Anborn's heart begin to race. He pressed her closer, then abruptly pushed her away.

'Not a good idea,“ he muttered to himself. "Will make for uncomfortable riding.

Goodbye, m'lady. You know how to reach me on the wind if you should ever be in need of me."

'Please remember that it works both ways,“ she said, giving him one more heart-melting smile. "Don't be a stranger."

Anborn laughed. “You needn't fear that, my dear. Goodbye, and enjoy your newly conferred royalty." He mounted his great black charger; the horse snorted and danced in place as he turned to look at her once more.

'Oh, and by the way, Rhapsody, welcome to the family." He gave her a rakish wink and galloped off toward the west, leaving her staring at him in bewilderment as he rode out of sight.

Across the plain a mile away, still trapped within the rim of the Bowl by the circulating crowd, Ashe felt her lips press against Anborn's, and he let out a shriek of despair that caused the Cymrians standing near him to part hastily and make a path for him. He ran through it and blindly into the night, hurrying, as she now did, for Elysian.

The Elysian gardens were in full bloom, overgrown from neglect, wild with the sweetness of maturity. Rhapsody had spent the last month before the Council with Achmed and Grunthor in Ylorc, sleeping at night alone in her solitary, windowless quarters within the Cauldron, across the hall from where Jo's room had been.

She hated it, but she felt protected there. In a close call she had returned to Elysian from the Bowl one day, after greeting and accommodating some of the later arrivals, to find a loving note and a bouquet of winter flowers on the dining-room table. Apparently Ashe could still infiltrate the Heath, but he couldn't broach the security of the Teeth and the Cauldron. So Rhapsody had stayed there, knowing it would keep him away.

She opened the door of the dark house, feeling the scent of spicy herbs and dried flowers rise up to greet her. Despite its vulnerability and bad as sociations, Elysian had a comforting feel to it, a sense of home like none she had ever owned.