Part 2 (1/2)

In the water they combine

The human soul and the Divine.

Humanity is glorified,

Divinity personified-

The dance of glory to and from

One to return, One to become.

One glides beneath the Sea;

One walks upon the Sh.o.r.e.

-The Meri Song

Book of the New Covenant

Hrofceaster at Airdnasheen

The room was gray this early. Though murky light entered through the three tall windows along the northern wall, it was not strong enough to bring the rich array of tapestries, arras and carpets to vivid life. A row of light-globes sat above the east-facing hearth, two more hung on either side of the fur-covered couch opposite the windows. All were unlit and the hearth was cold.

On the threshold, Taminy took in the empty chamber with something like relief. She raised her hand, palm out, to the dark globes. They lit, blue-gold flames dancing, seemingly suspended in whorls of mist. On the walls, furniture, and floors, colors leapt from sleep; golds, reds, verdant greens-all the colors of midland foliage. All the hues Taminy would have left behind in coming to Hrofceaster, were it not for Hillwild artistry; were it not for Catahn.

Taminy smiled at the thought of the Hillwild lord. He was easily her fiercest supporter, her most imposing ally and her most ardent devotee. It had taken her weeks to break him of bending the knee to her. She had yet to teach him not to call her 'Glorious Lady' with every other breath. And as he treated her, so did his people.

As if I was Cwen, she thought, moving to the firebox by the hearth. That was Toireasa Malcuim's station, not hers. It was a station she could not imagine growing accustomed to.

”They'll always treat you that way.”

Hands full of kindling, Taminy turned. ”Skeet. Will you help with this fire or just stand there pecking at my thoughts?”

The boy moved from the doorway, face unsmiling, unboyish.

”You're more than Cwen, Taminy-Osmaer. Catahn knows that. His elders know that. Toireasa is Cwen of Caraid-land; you are its soul.”

Taminy bent to arrange the kindling, not caring to look into Skeet's eyes. She knew he was right, the little old man. Knew that in her hands was the fate of the House Malcuim and, through it, of the Caraidin people.

”And Airleas is its spirit,” she said. ”I feel for the boy-to have his childhood end so suddenly, so cruelly.”

”If he'd grown up here, his childhood would've been over long since. In Creiddylad, he'd've stayed a child past time. Colfre was a young man; were it not for Daimhin Feich, he'd still be on the Throne. Maybe Airleas is better off here.”

Taminy smiled, rising from the hearth to brush at her skirts. ”Pov-Skeet, you know as well as I do the truth of that. He may not see it now, but Hrofceaster is no mean place to become a man.”

”If the Ren Catahn is any measure,” Skeet added.

Taminy turned to look at him. ”Such a sly tone. Don't you like Catahn?”

Skeet's dark eyes widened. ”Why, Mistress! I should say I like him very well, indeed. He's a prodigious man.”

The observation coaxed laughter from her throat. It felt good to laugh.

”Mistress! What are you doing? G.o.d-the-Spirit, the fire! Now, now-you oughtn't touch that!”

The Eldress Levene scuttled into the room like a fretting hen, bobbing and clucking, while Taminy, errant chick, scooted away from the hearth, dropping the log she'd been holding.

Skeet cackled.

”You really mustn't do for yourself, dearest Lady,” chided the older woman. ”Where's Eyslk? She should ha' been here to start this. Not like her to be so lazy.”

”Please, Eldress, you needn't curtsey. And I came early today. I didn't ring for Eyslk. I rather intended to be alone for a while . . . in the quiet.”

Eldress Levene paused in her fire-making and blinked at Taminy. ”G.o.d's Breath, Lady! It never came to me that you'd like to be left alone in the mornings.”

Taminy's hands flew out in reflexive apology. ”Oh, please, Eldress, I didn't mean-It's only that occasionally I like to come here and meditate. It's a lovely room.”

The other woman's face suffused with pleasure. ”Why thank you, Mistress. It was done all for your joy . . . Now, now, where's the tinder box?” She poked along the rough mantle piece, looking for the box of flints.

”Eyslk usually asks me to start the fire,” Taminy said.

The Eldress was aghast. ”Eyslk asks-?”

Taminy laughed. ”Please don't fault Eyslk. She caught me at it one morning. I admit it's a guilty pleasure of mine.”