Part 68 (1/2)
”How can you be alive?” she said, laughing and dabbing at her eyes with the blanket's edge.
Josua explained again, showing her the dented manacle.
”But how did you escape?” Simon was anxious now for the story to continue. ”The tower fell!”
The prince's head moved from side to side. Shadows flittered on the tent wall. ”That is one thing I cannot know for certain, but my guess is that Camaris picked me up and carried me down in the first moments. I have come close to many campfires in the past nights, and heard many things. It sounds as though the confusion and smoke and flames were such that he could have gone down the stairwell ahead of you. We first came into the tower from beneath, through the tunnels; I believe he went out that way as well. All I know for certain is that I woke up beneath the stars, alone on the beach beside the Kynslagh. But who except Camaris would have had the strength to carry me so far?”
”If he went down before us, then Cadrach must have seen.” Miriamele fell silent, pondering this.
”It's a miracle,” Simon breathed. ”But why have you told no one? And what did you mean when you said Miriamele would be queen? Won't you... ?”
”You do not understand,” the prince said quietly. There was a strange edge of merriment in his voice. ”I am dead. I wish to stay that way.”
”What?”
”Just as I said. Simon, Miriamele, I was never meant to rule. It was ago r me, but I saw no other course but to try to push Elias from the throne. Now G.o.d has opened a door for me, a door that I believed forever shut. To die or to take the crown were my only choices. Now, I have been given another.”
Simon was stunned. For a long while he said nothing. Miriamele was silent, too. Josua watched them, a smile playing across his mouth.
”It is shocking, I know.” The prince turned to his niece. ”But you will be a far better ruler than I ever would-as will Simon.”
”But you are John's true heir,” Simon protested, ”even more than Miriamele! And I'm just a kitchen boy you knighted! They say I'm a descendant of Saint Eahlstan, but that means nothing to me. It doesn't make me fit to rule Erkynland or anything else.”
”I heard that tale, Simon. Isgrimnur and the others keep secrets poorly, if they ever meant to keep your heritage secret.” Josua laughed quietly. ”And I was not at all surprised to hear that you are of Eahlstan Fiskerne's blood. But as to whether that makes you more or less fit than me, Simon-you do not know all, even so. I am no more John's heir than you are.”
”What do you mean?” Simon moved slightly so that Miriamele's head found a more comfortable position on his breast. She was not looking at Josua now, but up at Simon, her brow furrowed with worry or deep thought.
”Just as I said,” the prince replied. ”I am not John's son. Camaris was my father.”
Simon sucked in his breath. ”Camaris... ?”
Now Miriamele did look at the prince, as startled as Simon. ”What are you talking about?”
”John was old when he married my mother, Efiathe of Hernysadharc,” Josua said. ”A measure of the distance in their years is that he felt no qualms about giving her a new name, Ebekah, as though she were a child.” He frowned. ”What happened after that is not particularly surprising. It is one of the commonest and oldest stories in the world, although I do not doubt she loved the king and he loved her. But Camaris was her special protector, a young man, as great and fabled a hero as John. What began as a deep respect and admiration between them grew into something more.
”Elias was John's child, but I was not. When my mother died birthing me, Camaris went mad. What could he think but that his sin had sentenced his beloved, who was also the wife of his closest friend, to death?” The prince shook his head. ”His agony was such that he gave away everything he had, as one who knows he will die-and he must have felt he was dying, since every breath, every moment, was so full of pain and terrible shame. At last he took the horn Ti-tuno and went in search of the Sithi, perhaps to expiate the sin of partic.i.p.ating in John's persecution of them, or perhaps, like Elias, he hoped the wise immortals could help him reach his beloved beyond death. Whatever the aim of his pilgrimage, Amerasu brought him secretly to Jao e-Tinukai'i, for reasons of her own. I have not discovered all that happened: my father was so distraught when he told me it was hard to make sense of everything.
”In any case, Amerasu met with him and took the horn back, perhaps to keep it for him, perhaps because it had belonged to her lost sons. Exactly what pa.s.sed between them is still a mystery to me, but apparently whatever she told him was no comfort. My father left the forest deeps, still grieving. Soon after, when his despair finally outweighed even his terror of the sin of self-slaughter, he cast himself over the side of a s.h.i.+p into the Bay of Firannos. He survived somehow-he is fearfully strong, you know; that trait his blood certainly did not pa.s.s on to me!-but his wits were shadowed. He wandered through the southland, begging, living in the wilderness, subsisting on the charities of others, until he found his way at last to that Kwanitupul inn. In a way, I suppose, he knew peace for that time, despite the harshness of his life and his own poor wits. Then, after two score years, Isgrimnur found him, and soon peace was taken from him again. He awakened with the old horror still fresh in his mind, and the knowledge he had tried to murder himself added to it.”
”Mother of Mercy!” Miriamele said feelingly. ”That unhappy man!”
It was hard for Simon to encompa.s.s the breadth of the old knight's suffering. ”Where is he now?”
Josua shook his head. ”I do not know. Wandering once more, perhaps. I pray he did not try to drown himself again. My poor father! I hope that the demons that plague him are weaker now, although I doubt it. I will find him, and I will try to help him toward some kind of peace.”
”So that's what you're going to do?” Simon asked. ”Look for Camaris?”
Miriamele looked at the prince sharply. ”What about Vorzheva?”
Josua nodded and smiled. ”I will search for my father, but only after my wife and children are safe. There is much to be done, and it will be almost impossible for me to do any of it here in Erkynland where I am known.” He laughed quietly. ”You see, I am imitating Duke Isgrimnur and letting my beard grow to better my disguise.” The prince rubbed his chin. ”So tonight I ride south. Soon old Count Streawe will have a late-night visitor. He owes me a favor ... of which I will remind him. If anyone can spirit Vorzheva and the two children out of the Nabbanai court, it will be Perdruin's devious master. And he will enjoy the sport of it more than any payment I could ever make him. He loves secrets.”
”The dead prince's wife and heirs disappearing.” Simon could not resist a smile of his own. ”That will make for a few stories and songs!”
”So it will. And I'm sure I will hear them and laugh.” He reached over and squeezed Simon's arm, then leaned farther to embrace Miriamele, who clung to him for a long moment. ”Now it is time for me to go. Vinyafod is waiting. It will be dawn soon.”
Dreamlike as the conversation was, as the whole night had been, Simon was suddenly unwilling to let Josua go. ”But if you find Camaris, and if you have Vorzheva with you, what then?”
The prince paused. ”The southland will need at least one more Scrollbearer besides Tiamak, I believe-if the League will have me. And I can think of nothing I would like better than to put all the cares of battle and judgment behind me to read and think. Perhaps Streawe can help me purchase Pelippa's Bowl, Pelippa's Bowl, and I will be the landlord of a quiet inn at Kwanitupul. An inn where friends will always be welcome.” and I will be the landlord of a quiet inn at Kwanitupul. An inn where friends will always be welcome.”
”So you are truly going?” asked Miriamele.
”Truly. I have been given the gift of freedom-a gift I had never expected to receive. I would be ungrateful indeed to turn my back on it.” He stood up. ”It was very strange to hear my funeral rites spoken at the Hayholt to day. Everyone should have such a chance while they still live-it gives one much to think about.” He smiled. ”Let me have a few hours' start at least, but then tell Isgrimnur, and whatever others can be trusted, that I live. They will be wondering about the disappearance of Vinyafod in any case. But do tell Isgrimnur soon. It pains me greatly to think of my old friend mourning for me: the loss of his son is burden enough. I hope he will understand what I do.”
Josua moved toward the tent flap. ”And you two, your adventures are only beginning, I think-although I hope those to come are happier.” He blew out the candle and the tent was dark again. ”Just as I would be a fool not to take what I have been given, Simon, you will be a fool indeed if you do not marry my niece-and Miriamele, you will be a fool if you do not take him. The two of you have much work to do, and many things to set right, but you are young and strong, and you have been given a schooling like none the world has ever seen. May G.o.d bless you both, and good luck. I will be watching you. You will both be in my prayers.”
The tent flap lifted. Stars glimmered above Josua's shoulder, then all was dark again.
Simon settled back, his head whirling. Josua alive! Camaris the prince's father! And he, Simon, with a princess lying beside him. The world was unimaginably strange.
”So?” Miriamele asked suddenly.
”What?” He held his breath, worried by the tone of her voice.
”You heard my uncle,” she said. ”Are you going to marry me? And what's this about the blood of Eahlstan? Have you been hiding something from me all this time to pay me back for my serving-girl disguise?”
He exhaled. ”I only found out myself yesterday.”
After a long silence, she said: ”You haven't answered my other question.” She took his face and pulled it near hers, running her finger along the sensitive ridge of his scar. ”You said you would never leave me, Simon. Now are you going to do what Josua told you to do?”
For answer, he laughed helplessly and kissed her. Her arms curled around his neck.
They had gathered on the gra.s.sy hillside beneath the Nearulagh Gate. The great portal lay in ruins; birds fluttered above the stones, quarreling shrilly. Beyond the rubble the setting sun glinted from the wet roofs of the Hayholt. The Conqueror Star made a faint red smear in the northernmost comer of the darkening heavens.
Simon and Miriamele stood arm in arm, surrounded by friends and allies. The Sithi had come to say farewell.
”Jiriki.” Simon gently disengaged himself from Miriamele and stepped forward. ”I meant what I said before, although I said it in childish bad temper. Your arrow is gone, burned away when the Storm King vanished. Any debt between us is gone, too. You have saved my life enough times.”
The Sitha smiled. ”We will start afresh, then.”
”I wish you didn't have to go.”
”My mother and the others will recover more quickly in their homes.” Jiriki gazed at the banners of his people ranged along the hillside, their bright clothes. ”Look on that. I hope you will remember. The Dawn Children may never be gathered again in one place.”
Miriamele stared down at the waiting Sithi and their bold, impatient horses. ”It is beautiful,” she said. ”Beautiful.”
Jiriki smiled at her, then turned back to Simon. ”So it is time for my folk to go back to Jao e-Tinukai'i, but you and I will see each other before long. Do you remember I told you once that it took no magical wisdom to say we would meet again? I will say it once more, Seoman Snowlock. The story is not ended.”