Authors: Nancy Springer
Hal threw back his head and laughed. The two of them were walking at random now, arms around each other's shoulders, as they had at other happy times. “Poor Alan! I believe I begin to understand. All that crustiness ...."
“Was the only way I could hide the longing in my heart from you. If I had let myself show love for you, my secret would have popped out in an instant. Then I was vexed that I could manage it no better, and being vexed with myself I grew vexed with you and the whole world. But even that is not the worst of it."
“Nay,” agreed Hal wryly, “on top of all that, your eyes caught the glitter of this pretty bauble I wear on my bead."
Alan winced as if he had been struck. “By my troth, you know me better than I knew myself,” he whispered.
“But why, Alan? You were not really planning to seize the throne from me."
“Nay, of course not! But in spite of my best intentions, the thought would nag at the back of my mind, and it nearly drove me mad with shame and frustration. To add to my shame, I knew that I had only to ask you, and you would have given me your crown as freely as you give your love! But of course I could not ask any such thing. If only I could have come to you, talked to you—but to explain my malady would have been to explain the cause."
“That, by birth, you have as much right to the throne as I do."
“Ay. Such nonsense. Your right to the throne has always gone far beyond the right of birth, and I have always known it."
“Do you still desire it?” asked Hal quietly.
“Nay! Mothers, nay. Blain cured me of that."
“Then you shall have it, Alan.” Hal faced him, smiling, with warm affection in his voice. “You fought for me, I know .... But I fought, in large measure, for you."
“You are babbling nonsense. Hal!” Alan exclaimed. “You know I can't take your crown!"
“Who said anything about
my
crown!” Hal teased, “Think more of
your
crown!” He took Alan by the shoulders, his eyes bright with joy and mischief. “What, Sunrise King, do you not yet know yourself? Just as I am the last of the line of Veran, the sunset of the Age, so are you the sunrise of the new Age, the first of the Liege Kings of Laueroc! Do you not think that two brothers such as we can rule together? Our capital is to be in Laueroc, centered between east and west—though you know I shall look most often to Welas. After my death, the two peoples shall be united under you and your heirs, as they ought to be. And the blood of the elves shall enrich your line, as it did the Blessed Kings before you. By all that is lovely, you shall be a bright dawning for this land after a long, dark night."
“You are serious!” Alan whispered.
“Quite serious. It is written in
The Book of Suns
, though I knew it long ago. Torre let it slip, and you, modest soul that you are, soon forgot it."
“But how can I rule? You are Mireldeyn."
“And you alone are Elwyndas. Your power is equal to mine—remember? Is it so hard to accept?"
Alan shook his head, stunned. “But Hal, what of your heirs?"
“I shall have none.” The joy went out of his voice. “I am to be the last of the line of Veran, the last of those Very Kings—though there will be others, Alan, mark it. But Rosemary and I will have no children. That is the prophecy."
“Oh, Hal, I am sorry.” Alan gently touched his shoulder.
“That is the advantage of prophecy, you see, Alan.” Hal tried to smile. “If I had not known this, your crown would have been obliged to wait until my death. But now we can both be crowned and wed to our ladies together, on the morrow.” He faced Alan whimsically, brushing the ever-unruly hair from his brother's brow. “Have children, Alan—my second self—and I shall love them as my own. It is for Rosemary that I mind it most. I do not know what comfort to give her."
“You yourself are her best comfort. So you plan to tell her?"
“Ay. If there is one thing I have learned in the past year, it is not to keep a secret from a loved one. Secrecy breeds fresh sorrow, but sharing is joy in itself. Still, I have not told her yet. I did not wish to mar her wedding day."
For an hour Hal and Alan walked together, voicing random thoughts, reluctant to give up their rediscovered companionship on this last night of their single lives. “It is past midnight,” Hal finally said. “Let us get some sleep. It will not do for us to be tired, not tomorrow."
They returned to Hal's fire, in embers now, and laid out their blankets. Nearby, Alfie and Arundel peacefully grazed.
“We could go inside, you know,” Hal remarked. “There is no need to sleep out."
Alan laughed quietly into the darkness. “Strange. So many times we camped together, each longing for a warm room and a soft bed; and now ...."
“Ay. One last time .... Well, good night."
“Good night."
In her castle chamber. Rosemary lay still and miserable on her canopied bed. There was scarcely a rustle, but like a green-and-golden spirit of summer Lysse stood beside her.
“Sleep, my sister,” she said. “Be content. Alan is here, and all will be well."
Rosemary sat bolt upright. “Oh, has he come at last!” she cried.
“Ay, that he has.” Lysse smiled a secret smile.
“And—are we to be sisters, truly?” asked Rosemary more calmly.
“Indeed, we are."
“Oh, Lysse, I am so happy,” said Rosemary softly. Lysse looked into her eyes for just an instant; then with all her heart she embraced this generous mortal woman, her first and lifelong friend in the strange race she was fated to join.
The next morning, Cory slept late, for even in his dreams some dejected part of his brain told him there was little use in waking up. A rough shaking roused him at last.
“Alan!” he cried, dazed with joy and surprise.
“Come on, you sleepyhead!” shouted Alan, grinning with delight. “This is my wedding day, and you must be my best man. Aren't you going to help me make myself presentable?"
“Your wedding day!” Corin sat up, squeezing his head in disbelief. “But who?"
“Lysse."
Corin thrashed his way out of bed, shaking his head. “Lysse!” he sputtered. “You lucky dog! You lucky, lucky dog!” Hastily he dressed, muttering to himself in bemused happiness. “Confound it, is that what you and Hal were quarreling about?” he finally demanded.
“Well, after a fashion, ay."
“It was! But why?"
“Because I was a dolt, forsooth!” Alan retorted cheerfully. “But come on, we have lots to do. I'll tell you about it later.” He strode out, and Corin trotted after him, still shaking his head.
A few hours later, Robin and Cory stood waiting in the castle courtyard, smiling at each other from time to time. Already their eyes were glazed from the events of the day. They wore tunics of finest fawn-colored wool, gifts from Adaoun, and they held the reins of his other gifts: steeds of the
elwedeyn
breed. Cory's was creamy gold in color, and Robin's a gray so dark as to be almost black. These had never known saddle or bridle, but at Adaoun's gentle command they now bore intricately woven blankets. The youths led them by soft hackamores, such as were worn by Alfie and Arundel beside them.
As the sun reached its height, Hal and Alan came out and mounted. They carried no weapons or warlike gear, except their swords, suspended from the chain-link belts Roran had given them years before. They wore shirts of pure-white wool, delicately embroidered in multicolor designs of every living thing. Bright cloaks fell back from their shoulders. Their heads were bare and high. On his right hand, Hal wore a large, dark gem set in silver, with a strange glow emanating from its heart. Alan no longer tucked the green Elfstone beneath his shirt, but proudly centered it on his chest. From time to time, he and Hal glanced at each other in silent, sober affection—men with the look of eagles, great in stature beyond their physical size, regarded with awe by poor and prosperous alike, each other's equal in power and valor. They waited together for their destiny.
Soon, Rosemary and Lysse rode out with glowing eyes, in gowns of a simplicity which set off their beauty as no jewels and laces ever could: long, sweeping dresses of purest white, somehow made without a seam. Their hair swung long and free, crowned and intertwined with roses of soft pink, yellow and creamy white. Flowers of the same hues adorned pretty little Asfala and Lysse's darkly golden Faen. They sat sideways on blankets of summer green, and their white skirts trailed down below their feet. Hal took Rosemary by the hand, and Alan clasped hands With Lysse, and they rode four abreast through the town, with the rest of the company following. The townsfolk, and countryfolk from miles around, watched them pass with quiet joy, then fell in line and followed after.
On a green, tree-crowned bill outside of town, a hill Alan remembered from his earliest years, Adaoun waited for them. He was to perform the ceremonies by greater right than any priest of any god, for he, sung in the First Song, had not forgotten Aene. He needed no temple except the blue sky above, which had always been his roof.
The weddings were simple and eloquent. Each loved one and each lover stated their devotion in the words which best came to mind; then they vowed troth, honor, and duty until death. Hal and Rosemary exchanged the rings that had been worn by Torre and Megolyn, sent to him at Torre's dying request. Alan and Lysse exchanged the rings that had wed Veran and Claefe. Each couple Joined hands to seal their promises, and the crowd stirred and murmured in pleasure.
From the little chest at his feet, Adaoun reverently took up
The Book of Suns
. From this he read in the Ancient Tongue, the only language he knew. Rafe translated for the sake of the witnesses: “And it shall come to pass that a truly great lord of the land of Isle shall have two sons. One shall be by his
mendor
, a daughter of the house of Veran, and the other by a gentle lady to whom be shall be wed by chance of custom. And these two brothers shall not know each other, but shall grow in courage and goodness, each in his own way. Manhood shall be thrust early upon them, and great misfortune, and they shall meet strong enemies. In the course of their struggle they shall find and aid each other, and love one another as if they had been raised together from birth, though they shall not know of their bond. And the goals of their two lives shall become one."
Hal glanced at his bride and, seeing that she understood, smiled and pressed her hand.
“The son of Veran's line shall be he to whom all your dreams should turn. People of Peace. He shall be the means of your leaving to the land I have promised you; he shall be the savior of Isle and Welas, and the consummation of the Age. The blood of elves shall flow strong in him, giving him knowledge, power, and vision beyond those of other mortals; yet he shall know the love and pain of a mortal heart. Men shall stand in awe of him, and call him Healer, Ruler, Welandais Prince, and Sunset King. But your name for him shall be Mireldeyn —'Elf-Man.’ And these shall be the signs: that he shall come to you, unbidden, on a steed of the elfin blood, with the marks of suffering on his body, and the Old Language on his tongue, and the vision of the legends in his eyes. His only magic and his only power shall reside in himself.
“But men's dreams shall find fulfillment in his brother, for he shall begin a new Age of peace for mortal men. A great-hearted man, like Veran before him, he also shall win the love of an elf maiden —"
Alan stood, scarcely listening, with his arm around Lysse.
“—so that his heirs may be blessed with elfin wisdom and vision. The knowledge of the Old Language, and of many mysteries, shall be his. Men shall love and honor him, calling him Elfstone, the Golden One, and Sunrise King. But your name for him shall be Elwyndas —'Elf-Friend.’ And these shall be the signs to you: that the ash maiden shall find love for him in her heart, and intervene for his sake, and lead him to you; and he shall fearlessly find the knowledge of the Old Language and its secrets in her eyes."
Adaoun closed the Book, speaking now more slowly and thoughtfully. “This is called
The Book of Suns
. It tells of the rising and setting of many kinds of suns—the suns of all men's days, the suns of many men's lives, the suns of all the ages of history for both men and elves. But all of these are bound up and reach their culmination in the two sons who stand before you, sons of a truly noble man. From their first meeting, though they did not know each other, they loved each other as brothers, and now they find that they are brothers in truth. They were born on the same day, in the same hour; there is no thought of younger or elder between them. They are at one with each other, just as the sun which sets at night is the same sun which rises in the morning. In Mireldeyn, you see the splendid setting of the sun that rose with Veran. In Elwyndas, you see the splendid rising of the sun of a new Age, dawning, like the Age of Veran before him, in peace and love. Whether peace and love shall endure, mortal men, depends on each of you ....
“This is a moment of great weight in your history, folk of the Second Song. The One has said that, if you will it, the sun can set forever on the wreakers of war and oppression. The tide of their onslaught can be turned for all time, if this land of Isle stands strong in its path. Aene has given you two men, the likes of which you will never see again, for this, your time of need. He has given you two who are something more than men, who face the specters of pride and greed and dare them to do their worst. They have shared the chances of life and death. They have fulfilled all the prophecies of
The Book of Suns
, except this last one, and they shall fulfill that one also: that greed and pride shall have no dominion, but all men shall live in harmony. Long, prosperous, and peaceful shall be the reign of Laueroc!"