Part 7 (1/2)

Book of the Covenant, #14

He stood on the banks of the Halig-tyne and looked east toward Nairne. Behind him, the Sun set into the Western Sea and color drained from the sky in runnels of red and purple.

He waited for the Rose. It would appear in the sky over Halig-liath and his invisible wings would take him almost there to watch it shed its radiance over sleeping Nairne. But the night sky grew dark and stars glinted, and above distant Halig-liath was nothing but a swathe of dewy black velvet.

Anxiety tugged at him. Where was she? Had something happened to her? He fidgeted. He heard himself moan.

You look for me in the wrong place, Leal.

He s.h.i.+vered, eyes darting. Had he heard those words or imagined them?

In their feverish dance, his eyes caught a gleam of light to the south, high over the Gyldan-baenn. He fixed on it, and before he had taken two breaths, the light blossomed into a thing that was both crystal and rose and yet neither. Golden, the spreading, translucent petals dripped glory onto the tops of the mountains, strewing the snowy peaks with Eibhilin wealth.

Leal puzzled. Where was this? He tried to distinguish the mountains, number them, name them, but they remained huge, dark and anonymous beneath the spreading splendor. He remembered Catahn Hillwild and tried to recall where his capitol lay among those t.i.tanic shapes, but could not.

Fhada! Fhada would know. If he could only wake.

Wake! He willed his eyes to open.

Wake! He tried to conjure a bright sunrise, a splash of cold water.

WAKE!.

He sat up abruptly, brain reeling from the sudden charge of warm energy that flushed him. The room was not dark, for someone stood beside his bed with a lamp.

He blinked. No. There was someone by his bed, but there was no lamp. The light he saw radiated from the figure itself.

He choked, suddenly unable to breathe. ”Taminy! Mistress!”

She raised a radiant hand. ”Peace, Lealbhallain.”

He felt peace. Like warm water, like soft sunlight, it poured over him. He smiled.

”I'm sending you someone,” she said, and in that moment, he saw Aine-mac-Lorimer as clearly as if she stood before him. A wash of indecipherable sensation came with the vision. ”Listen to her. Learn what she has to teach. Teach her what she must learn . . . Be patient with her. She comes with the Claeg.”

”Wha-?” Leal's eyes stared into complete darkness. He was surprised to find himself still lying flat on his back on his low pallet in his room at Carehouse. Windowless, the chamber admitted daylight only through a narrow aperture high on the western wall. In a flutter of stunned blinks, that feature appeared as a gray, poorly defined rectangle. In the meager light, Leal could see the solid shapes of his spa.r.s.e furnis.h.i.+ngs.

He suspected it was near dawn, but it hardly mattered. Regardless of the time, Fhada must be told of the aislinn. Leal scrambled to find his boots and coat and hurried to the elder Osraed's room. It took several moments of tapping before a groggy Fhada let him in.

”Taminy-Osmaer has left Halig-liath,” he blurted, before he'd even cleared the door.

”She-what? How-how do you know this?”

”I had a dream. An aislinn. She's gone to the Gyldans.”

”Hus.h.!.+” Fhada pulled Leal completely into the chamber and shut the door firmly behind him. ”Are you certain?”

Leal nodded emphatically-flopping unruly red hair into his eyes-and rubbed his coated arms against a frenetic chill. The aislinn still held him, rattling his teeth and quivering his innards.

”I saw the Crystal Rose high over the mountains. Then Taminy, herself, appeared to me and told me she was sending Aine-mac-Lorimer to Creiddylad to teach us.”

”To teach us what?” asked Fhada.

Leal sc.r.a.ped the suddenly empty insides of his mind. ”I . . . I'm not sure . . . No, wait. Yes! So we might speak with her as clearly as we speak to each other now.”

The older Osraed peered at him in the mellow light of his single light-bowl, then threw back his head and laughed. ”My dear Leal, I hope it's somewhat clearer than that!”

Leal came down to breakfast to find an unusually somber Osraed Fhada sitting in the small refectory, staring from the window. His tea mug, clutched in both hands, was quickly losing the heat of its contents to the chilly room.

”Your tea's getting cold,” Leal told him when he sat down with his breakfast some minutes later.

Fhada's eyes dropped to the cup; Leal wasn't sure he actually saw it. ”Daimhin Feich paid a visit to Ochanshrine yesterday,” he said.

Leal set down his spoon. ”And?”

”According to Osraed Eadmund, he entered the Shrine and displayed some interest in the Stone.”

”Interest?” Leal shrugged. ”He's an unbeliever. What interest could he possibly have in it, other than as a means of coronation?”

”He didn't mention a coronation, at least not in Eadmund's hearing. He did express concern that the Crystal seemed . . . lifeless, dark. He evidently regards it as a powerful talisman, regardless of his disbelief in its spiritual significance.”

”But that . . .” Leal shook his head. ”That's good . . . isn't it?”

Fhada made wry face. ”I'm not sure. Whether he believes in the Stone may not be so critical as that he knows we believe in it. Eadmund said the Abbod seemed distressed over Feich's interest in the Stone. Perhaps he also sees the threat inherent in the situation.”

”You mean that Feich might contrive to use our belief against us-the way he did with Cyne Colfre? The Stone could . . . could become his hostage.” Lealbhallain found it suddenly difficult to breathe. ”Eadmund said Osraed Ladhar seemed distressed . . . surely he can be counted on to protect the Stone.”

”Can he? Can we be sure of that?”

Fhada left his stool and moved to dispose of his cold tea. He poured himself another cup from the eternally steaming pot on the stove.

”Ladhar went with Feich to Halig-liath in pursuit of Taminy. He's a politically astute man. He knows what his presence at Feich's side implies: that the Osraed are acknowledging Feich's right to be where he is-ensconced in Mertuile. Leading what's left of the Cyne's forces. Placing the Chalice on his battle standard.”

Leal glanced down at his cooling porridge. It no longer seemed appetizing. ”I must believe that what binds Ladhar to Feich is a shared hatred of Taminy. A-a desire for order. If Ladhar is not acting out of loyalty to the Covenant-as he perceives it-” If. That hardly bore thinking about. ”Might Osraed Eadmund be able to determine where the Abbod's loyalties lie?”

Fhada shook his head. ”I can't ask the Taminist brethren at Ochanshrine to place their lives in jeopardy. Their very presence there puts them in enough danger. Ladhar already views Eadmund as a weak brother. If he hadn't been a member of the Osraed Council, and if the Osraed at Ochanshrine weren't suddenly so loathe to look each other in the eye, he wouldn't have lasted this long. The others are too junior to draw any interest. In pressing for such information, they could very likely reveal their loyalties.”

Leal nodded. ”And leave us with no contacts inside the Abbis. We must get to Ladhar, Fhada. There must be some way to get to him.”

Fhada smiled wryly. ”I'm too well known there. You might walk up to the gates in your ritual robes and hope to pa.s.s without comment, except for that Kiss.” He glanced pointedly at the bright golden star on Lealbhallain's brow. ”Even drabbed, the color would give you away.”

”Still, Siusan's theatrical cosmetics do a good enough job at most times. As long as no one challenged me . . .”

”Good enough to go about in the street, perhaps. But to enter Ochanshrine? Eadmund says they're checking visitors very carefully at the gate. However . . . if we were to, say, b.u.mp into the Abbod while he was about in Creiddylad . . .”