Part 24 (1/2)

He laid his hand on her abdomen. ”It hurts to love you and this child.”

”Hurts? But why?”

He swallowed. ”Because the harder you love, the more it will crush you to lose it.”

Roca entwined her hand with his, five fingers with four. ”Whatever happens, know that I will do everything I can to make it possible that we can stay together.”

His mood lightened. ”Good. It will give me more opportunity to do this.” Sliding his hand under her s.h.i.+ft, he tickled her side.

Laughing, Roca pushed his hand away. ”Eldri-”

”Bard Eldrinson!” The cry came from outside. ”Come! Hurry!”

Warriors paced the top of the huge wall that surrounded Windward, protected by reed-shaped merlons.

Roca, Eldri, and Garlin crowded into the lookout of the high tower. Leaning into a narrow opening, Roca studied Avaril's army in the plain below. They were guiding a battering ram on wheels, pus.h.i.+ng it toward the bridge that arched across the chasm to Windward.

Eldri leaned next to her. ”What can you see?”

”I can't figure out how they plan to use that thing.” Roca magnified the scene with her optics. ”They need a way to drive it forward, but I don't see any mechanism.”

”Maybe they will just push it.”

”That won't give enough force.” She pulled away from the opening, awkward now, clumsy with her girth. ”I don't think they've finished it yet.”

Garlin was leaning against the wall next to them. ”It might be a test, to see if they can get it across the bridge.”

Roca regarded him uneasily. ”They're managing just fine.”

Eldri stood up straighter. ”Garlin, I want the men to step up their training sessions. I will work with them again later this afternoon.”

Garlin laid a hand on his shoulder. ”I will do it.”

Eldri pushed off his hand. ”I will be fine.”

”If you overwork yourself, you may have more attacks.” Garlin spoke awkwardly, obviously aware his words could hurt. ”Having one in front of your men now could hurt morale.”

Eldri crossed his arms. ”I would be no Bard if I hid while my men prepared for battle.”

The mention of his t.i.tle startled Roca. Although many cultures a.s.sociated song with battle, this was the only one she knew of where the ability to sing historically accurate ballads had become a prerequisite for commanding an army. She hoped Avaril Valdoria had an atrocious voice. It would be fitting retribution for this man who would be Bard.

”You mustn't push yourself,” Garlin told Eldri.

”I haven't had an attack in days,” Eldri said.

”That doesn't mean they have stopped.”

Roca almost urged Garlin to let him be, to let Eldri save his pride; then she wanted to urge Eldri to protect himself. She held back, knowing neither man would relent. Instead she said, ”Eldri, can you do your extra workouts with Garlin?” Besides supervising his men's training, Eldri also trained one-on-one with selected partners, to hone his craft. ”If you have a seizure, Garlin knows how to deal with it.”

Eldri shook his head. ”I must work with my men. Otherwise, why should they follow me?”

”And if the convulsions start again?” Garlin asked.

”Then they come.” Eldri nodded to them. Before they could protest further, he took his leave, going down a narrow staircase to the s.h.i.+elded pathway that ran along the top of the wall. Roca wanted to go after him, but she held back. Through the doorway, she could see him walking. Each time he pa.s.sed one of his men, he stopped for a moment to talk before continuing on his way.

Garlin watched until Eldri turned a corner. ”The crime of it,” he said, ”is that he is a natural leader. The men would follow him from here to the moons if he asked.”

”If he has a convulsion during battle,” Roca said, ”he's dead.”

”And if he survives because he holds back when others fight?” Garlin spoke heavily. ”He couldn't live with himself.”

Roca knew he was right; if they interfered, Eldri would never forgive them. She wondered if fate were laughing at them. It offered all of humanity a new hope in Eldri, one of the strongest psions ever born-and then would take his life before he ever had a chance to realize his gifts.

17.

Bridge of Sorrows.

There.” Brad set the delicate contraption on Roca's upturned hand. The hollow gla.s.swood body was so small, it fit in her palm, but the wings had a span longer than her forearm. She and Brad had used the skin of red and blue bubbles to make them. He had scavenged components from his palmtop and smart-knife and even torn out tiny computers in the clothes he had worn up here that long-ago day he had come to see if she was all right.

A breeze from the open window picked up the flier, and Roca barely managed to grab it before the wind carried it away.

Brad closed the shutters. ”I hope it can reach the plains.”

”I too. Who knows how long it can stay aloft.” Roca flicked her thumb against the switch on the flier.

The gadget fluttered up, wheeled around the chamber a few times, and drifted to the floor. She laid her hand on her abdomen, thinking a child would love such a gadget.

As Brad retrieved the flier, a tiny holo of Eldri activated above it and began telling them Windward needed help.

”It looks good,” Roca said as the message finished.

”We can make ten of these fliers,” Brad said. ”Actually, we can make as many as we want. But to run the holo, I only have enough components for ten.”

”We could send written messages on the rest.”

”Who would read them?”

That gave her pause. It was too easy to forget the Lyshrioli had no written language. They didn't even understand the concept. She sighed. ”If only we could attach a Memory to the fliers. That would solve everything.”

”The components have memory.” Brad shrugged. ”They could hold hundreds of text messages, but no one here could decipher them.”

”I meant Shaliece.TheMemory.” Roca smiled. ”I suppose she is like a computer. Her recall is incredible.”

Brad nodded. ”I've wondered if the original colonists here were trying to design human computers.”