Authors: Christopher Stasheff
“Bind
the arms of each soldier!” Culaehra cried. “Herd them together, and mount guard
over them!”
Among
the Vanyar host, angry shouts arose. “Betrayal!” “You told us Bolenkar was
strongest!” “You have brought us to defeat!” As one, they turned upon
Bolenkar's priests. Those who could not reach them turned back to clasp the
arms of those who had fought for Lomallin, crying, “We shall follow the Green
Way now!”
They
only began it. With the priests dead, all the Vanyar embraced one another with
shouts of joy.
But
the allies, grinning, followed the Darians' lead, waving their swords aloft and
chanting, “Culaehra! Culaehra! Culaehra!”
Atop
the fortress, Culaehra beheld the sudden truce, and lowered the great sword.
Grinning, he threw up his arms in rejoicing. The allies saw, and shouted their
joy in return.
Then
Culaehra turned away, his face suddenly haggard. “I cannot accept such acclaim!
I did not slay the Ulharl by myself!”
“But
you must accept the praise,” Kitishane said sternly.
“Yes!”
Lua agreed.
“Who
would cheer a gnome?” Yocote pointed out.
“But
they must acclaim someone,” Lua said, “for thus are they all united again.”
“Only
in this fashion can Lomallin and Rahani triumph,” Kitishane said. “You must
represent us, Culaehra—you must accept the glory for us all!”
His
face was haunted. “Must I truly?”
“You
must—and besides,” Kitishane said, “I think that I shall find a way to share
it.” Culaehra gazed down into her glowing face, then realized the import of
what she had said. Slowly, beginning to smile again, he lowered his head to
claim her lips with his own.
He
kissed her there before the horde. They shouted approval, and when he lifted
his head, he gazed down at her for a moment, smiling now, and asked her, “Have
I at last proved myself worthy of a wife?”
She
gave him a shy, sly look and said, “You have.”
His
voice went husky and breathy as he asked, “Then will you marry me?”
“I
will,” she said, and he caught her up in his arms to kiss her once again.
Below, the crowd whooped for joy.
Lua
watched them with tears in her eyes, and her hand stole into Yocote's. She
looked up at him shyly and said, “You, too, have proved yourself worthy.”
“Oh,
I know that,” he said with a sardonic smile. “But I will not have a wife if she
is not in love with me—and with me above all others that she might find.”
“Why,
I am in love with you,” Lua said softly, “and in just such a fashion.”
Yocote
frowned at her, but her face glowed with so much love and desire that he could
doubt her no longer. He, too, took his mate in his arms, and kissed her as only
gnomes can.
The
crowd bellowed joy again, and the two gnomes looked up in surprise, then
blushed. “See what you have done now, woman!” Yocote said. “You have made me
forget where I was and who looked upon us.”
“I
may take pride in that much, then,” she rejoined, and he flashed her a smile
before he turned her, and turned with her, to accept the crowd's acclamation.
* * *
“Ohaern,”
Rahani said lazily, “come back to bed.”
“A
moment only, beloved.” Ohaern gazed down through the rift in the clouds,
running a hand over his arm and chest to reassure himself that his skin was no
longer wrinkled, that his muscles were as massive as ever.
Rahani
pouted. “You have been absent from me for most of a year! What if each month
was only a day to me? You have left me clamoring with desire! I cannot be
assuaged in only a few encounters! Come back to bed!”
“I
shall, most surely.” Ohaern gazed down at the world, smiling. “But I must see
the ending of what I have begun.”
“Wherefore?”
she asked. “You know what must be happening—the alliance of nomads and
northerners have asked Culaehra to rule them all, the whole of the western
world! You know he has been forced to accept, in order to forestall fighting
and feuds! And most surely you know that he has married Kitishane, as Yocote
has married Lua!”
“They
are being wedded together, both couples in one ceremony,” Ohaern told her.
“Even
now, at this moment?” Rahani rolled up to her knees, then rose and came up
behind him, gazing down over his shoulder.
They
saw Yusev standing before the two couples, chanting and pantomiming the tying
of a knot; they saw Culaehra kiss Kitishane as if he would never stop, and
Yocote kiss Lua with more restraint but as much intensity. “I shall bless their
union,” she breathed in his ear. “They shall have each two girls and two boys,
and none shall die till they are old.”
“I
thank you, my love. Forgive my abstraction, but I have put something of my
heart into those four, even as a smith must always do with work he comes to
love.” But Ohaern felt her breasts against his back and could not prevent the
desire that rose within him. He turned, bearing her back to the bed, and it was
an even question as to which of them bore the other down.
Finally,
Ohaern lifted his head and said, almost in apology, “You understand that it is
not Culaehra whom I count as the hero I forged.”
“Of
course not,” she replied. “It is all four of them together. But come and kiss
me, Ohaern, or my lips will grow rough with waiting.”
And
what man could wish such misfortune on a goddess?