Rhapsody, Child of Blood (47 page)

Read Rhapsody, Child of Blood Online

Authors: Elizabeth Haydon

'At first I tried posting scouts and soldiers in or near as many settlements as I could, but it was to no avail. So I decided to enclose as much of the local acreage within a walled fortress as possible, in the hope that it will better protect the people and their land. I've invited as many as are willing to come and live within the new fortress, and some have agreed.

'Some would rather take their chances and keep the lands that are their legacy, and I can respect that. Eventually the land within the wall will become a heavily populated village, which will destroy the tranquillity of my holdings and the keep, but it's a small price to pay if it keeps more of them safe. Truthfully, I have no idea if even that will help, but while I am still breathing I have to try every option open to me."

'That's the sign of a good leader," said Rhapsody, watching the workmen in the distance as they mortared stones into the wall. Gauging from their height as they stood near it, she estimated the wall to be more than twelve feet high. Whatever Lord Stephen sought to keep out must have made a serious impression.

Lord Stephen's face grew grave for the first time since they had met him. "I have a personal reason in addition to that duty. You see, two of the casualties of these raids were my wife and her sister." He looked out into the courtyard where the children were playing in the frosty air, the snow gone with the thaw. Their shrieks of merry laughter rang suddenly hollow.

Rhapsody's heart filled with pain at his words, but they were spoken simply, without regret, and carried only a wistful sense of loss.

'I'm very sorry," she said.

Lord Stephen took a deep swallow from his glass.

'Thank you. It was four years ago. Melisande had just begun : to walk, and Lydia had traveled into the city of Navarne to purchase some shoes for her, sturdy enough to support her little feet. She and my sister-in-law enjoyed traveling into the city; it gave them time to visit together and talk.

'The baby had come down with a cold. I suppose we were lucky she had taken il , or else she'd have likely been with her mother. On the way home they and the rest of their caravan were accosted by a raiding party of Lirin soldiers. I'll spare you the details except to tell you that when I found her she was still clutching the shoes. Of course, we couldn't use them. The bloodstains didn't come out."

His words turned Rhapsody's stomach, but Achmed and Grunthor merely nodded politely. This was certainly not the worst they had ever heard.

'The strange part of it all is that, to a man, the Lirin raiders captured at the scene denied being involved in the massacre. There could be no doubt as to their guilt; they were caught in the act. Yet each man went to his death swearing that he knew nothing of the raid.

'It was extremely odd. I have known Lirin all my life, living so close to their lands, and they tend to be one of the more honorable races, in my experience. It is out of character for them not to take responsibility for their actions. I think watching the executions took some of the hate out of me; they seemed, more than anything else, perplexed, each one of them.

Very strange."

The Bolg exchanged a look. "Indeed. Is it only Lirin that have attacked your villages and towns?" Achmed asked.

'No, that's also part of the peculiar nature of these incursions. There have been incidents involving other men from Roland. In fact, even soldiers from Navarne have been caught in other provinces and Tyrian, committing similar atrocities. I swear on the lives of my children that I have ordered no such raids. I have no idea where this is coming from.

'Worst of all, the new target seems to be the children of Navarne." He opened the window and leaned out, calling to his son and daughter in the courtyard below.

'Gwydion, Melisande, come in now, please."

The children looked up from their game, and exchanged a glance and sighed before complying. Stephen waited until they had reached the door, held open by the chamberlain who had -3'

been watching them, and then turned to his guests again. "I'm sorry. These are days of paranoia and little restful sleep.

'Almost a score of the children of our province are missing, some taken in raids, others stolen from their own backyards. Their bodies are not found at the sites of the fighting, so we can only assume they have been kidnapped or taken to be sold.

'Only one has been recovered, when the child's father and uncle rode down the abductors, who were also from Navarne. The same strange circumstances; the captors swore they had no idea where the children had been taken from, despite having them in their custody. It's like the entire continent is suffering from collective amnesia."

His tale at an end, Lord Stephen drained his glass and set it down on his desk, then walked past the fireplace to the door, where he pulled a bellcord. A moment later the door opened, and a woman entered.

'Yes, m'lord?"

'Rosella, please get the children bathed and changed, and give them their tea, then bring them to meet our guests." The woman nodded and left, casting a look askance at the giant monster with his feet on her master's table.

n hour or so later the door burst open and the children ran in, dashing to their father. Stephen bent down on one knee and opened his arms, hugging the two of them together and rocking them wildly, causing them to giggle ridiculously.

In the midst of the laughter the little girl caught sight of Rhapsody. She stopped laughing during her father's rough-housing and stared. Rhapsody smiled, hoping to put her at ease, but the child broke free from her father's embrace and pointed at her.

'Daddy, who's that?"

Stephen and his son stopped their play and looked to where she was indicating. He took his daughter's arm and pushed it down.

'Well, that was rude," he said. His tone was exactly like the one Rhapsody's own father had used, and she covered her smile; some things apparently transcended social status. "These are our guests. I invited you in here to meet them. This lady's name is Rhapsody, and I expect you have something you want to say to her now."

The child continued to stare, as did her brother. Stephen's face clouded with mild paternal chagrin. "Well, Melly? What do you say?"

'You're beautiful" the child said, her voice filled with awe. Stephen flushed in embarrassment.

'Well, that's certainly true, but it's not exactly what I had in mind," he said.

'But it will do nicely," Rhapsody said breezily. Grunthor and Achmed exchanged a glance; perhaps she would believe it now that she had heard it from a child. A moment's further study indicated that the hope was unrealistic.

She came to where the children stood and smiled at them, first down at Melisande, then on eye level with Gwydion, who was almost as tall as she was.

'It's very nice to meet you both, Melisande and Gwydion. May I present my two friends, Achmed and Grunthor?" Meli-sande's gaze remained fixed on Rhapsody's face, but Gwydion looked over at the two Firbolg and broke into a wide grin.

'Hello," he said, extending a hand and walking to where Grunthor stood. The giant Firbolg clicked his heels, shaking the young man's hand with his enormous one, taking care to avoid scratching him with his claws. Gwydion then proceeded to the window, where he bowed slightly and extended his hand to Achmed as well.

'Are you going to be my new mother?" the little girl asked Rhapsody. This time the Singer's face matched Lord Stephen's, which had turned crimson to the scalp.

Across the room Grunthor laughed out loud. "There ya go, guv; my ol' man always said that children are the only thing that keeps a man from livin' forever, because they make 'im want to die o' mortification at least once a day."

'Well, if that were the case you could be visiting me in the cemetery about now,"

said the duke with a laugh. "I apologize for my daughter, m'lady."

Rhapsody crouched down in front of the child. "Please don't," she said to Stephen, never taking her eyes off Melisande. "She's lovely. How old are you, Melisande?"

'Five," Melisande said. "Wouldn't you like to have a little girl?"

Lord Stephen reached for the child's shoulders, but Rhapsody waved him away and took Melisande's tiny hands in her own. There was a loneliness in the black eyes, deep as the sea, and it reached down in Rhapsody's heart, choking it. She knew exactly how the motherless child felt.

'Yes," she said simply. "But only if that little girl was as special as you."

'Don't you like boys?" Gwydion asked from across the room. Achmed grinned in spite of himself.

'If anyone needs me, I'll be in the Great Hall, jumping off the balcony," Lord Stephen said.

Rhapsody swiveled to look at the boy, a thoughtful expression on her face. "Yes, I like boys very much," she said seriously.

'Made a lot o' money provin' it, too," muttered Grunthor merrily under his breath.

Her common status notwithstanding, Rhapsody felt the need to soothe the pain in the lonely royal children. "In fact, if your father would agree, I would like to adopt you both," she said, flashing Grunthor an ugly look.

Stephen opened his mouth to speak, but Rhapsody rushed ahead before he could.

She turned back to Melisande.

'You see, I'm traveling quite a bit, and I'm never in one place very long, so it's not a very good idea for me to be anyone's mother right now. But I could be your honorary grandmother."

'Grandmother?" said Gwydion doubtfully. "You're not old enough."

Rhapsody smiled ruefully. "Oh, yes I am," she said. "You see, I'm part Lirin, and we age differently than other people. Trust me, I am sufficiently old enough."

'What would it entail?" Gwydion asked, rubbing his hairless chin with his thumb and forefinger in the exact manner Lord Stephen did when considering something.

Rhapsody stood and let one of Melisande's hands drop, retaining hold of the other as she walked across the room to meet him. She sat in Lord Stephen's desk chair and pulled the little girl into her lap, reaching out her hand to Gwydion. He came over to her and took it. Rhapsody seemed to be considering the question solemnly.

'Well, first and foremost, I would never adopt any grandchild that I didn't think was special in a way that no one else in the world was, so it would mean that you would be dear to me in a way that no one else in the world is," she said.

'Next, each night when I say my prayers, I would think of you, and it would be like you were with me. I do that every evening when the stars come out, and each morning as the sun rises, so every day you would know that I was thinking about you at those times. I sing my prayers to the sky, so maybe you would even hear me, since we'd be under the same one; who knows?

'Whenever you're feeling lonely, you'd know that you only have to wait for the sun to come up or the stars to come out to have someone who loves you thinking about you, and maybe it might make you feel a little better."

'You would love us?" Melisande asked, tears glittering in her eyes.

Rhapsody fought back the ones forming in her own. "Yes," she said softly. "I already do."

'You do?" asked Gwydion incredulously.

She looked him deep in the eyes, and drew on her lore as a Namer, speaking truly.

"Yes," she said again. She shifted her gaze to the little girl. "Yes, I do. Who wouldn't? I would never lie to you, especially about that."

She looked up at Stephen, who was staring at her in wonder, then quickly back at the children, the sin of overstepping her position beginning to twist her stomach.

'I will try to visit you if I can, and send you gifts and letters from time to time, but mostly it would be in here." She tapped her heart, then each of their chests. "So, how about it? Would you like to be my very first grandchildren?"

'Yes!" said Gwydion. Melisande nodded, too excited to speak.

Rhapsody looked up at Lord Stephen, who still looked amazed. She felt suddenly awkward, knowing she had not only overstepped the boundaries of social status, but of politeness and good manners.

'That is, if your father agrees."

'Of course," Lord Stephen said quickly, forestalling his children's clamoring. "Thank you." He allowed himself to look her over once more, wishing she would consider Melisande's first request, before turning to Achmed.

'Well, it's time for these two to be heading to bed. Shall we go have a look at the museum?"

-

Che Cymrian museum was housed in a small building crafted of the same rosy-brown stone as the rest of Lord Stephen's keep. Unlike the other buildings on the castle's grounds, it had no torches burning in the exterior holders and sat, unnoticed, in the dark, locked and bolted.

Twilight was descending, wrapped in flurries of snow as they left the castle and crossed the courtyard toward the tiny, dark building.

Rhapsody had stopped long enough to sing her vespers, with the undesired result of causing everyone else in the keep to cease whatever they were doing to listen to her.

Melisande and Gwydion, who had been watching them from the balcony, broke into applause when she finished, which made her laugh and turn red with embarrassment at the same time.

Lord Stephen smiled. "Go to bed!" he shouted gruffly up at the balcony, then chuckled as the two figures dashed indoors. He offered Rhapsody his arm, holding a torch to light their way in his other hand.

When they came to the brass-bound door he let her hand go with a small sigh and reached into the pocket of his cloak, pulling forth an enormous brass key with odd scrolling on it. He fitted it to the lock and turned it with some difficulty; it was apparent that the museum had not been visited recently. Grunthor helped him pull the door open with a grinding screech, and they went inside.

In the light of the single torch, the stone depository more closely resembled a mausoleum, with frowning statues and exhibits that had been lovingly displayed for no one to see. Lord Stephen's face glowed ghostly white in the light of the torch as he went about the small room, lighting a series of curved glass sconces with a long wick held by a brass lamplighter's stem. Once he was finished, the museum brightened noticeably, the light being enough to read comfortably by.

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