Part 14 (2/2)

”How does he do that?”

”He . . . he knew how I felt about taking lessons from him. He said I thought I was the great Malcuim and he was just a lowly mountain boy.”

”Is that what you were thinking?”

Airleas could feel tears pressing behind his eyes. He nodded.

Taminy moved toward his chair then, steps measured and soft on the woven rugs. ”He makes you feel bad because he can see through you. He sees some ugly things, doesn't he, Airleas? Stubbornness, prejudice, arrogance, pride.”

He nodded again, eyes blurring.

”That's not what you want him to see, is it? You want him to see courage and honor and trustworthiness-the sorts of things that inspire loyalty.” She stopped less than an arm's reach away. ”So, is it really Broran you're angry with?”

The tears slipped their bonds and fled down his cheeks. He shook his head.

”Are you angry with me?”

He s.h.i.+vered convulsively, realizing that he had been angry with Taminy. Angry that she had insisted he keep company with the likes of Broran; angry that she, too, saw through him; angry that she counseled him to caution and made his dreams of revenge seem like childish fantasy; angry that because of her, his father was dead and he and his mother were in exile.

But it was a child's anger and he saw it for what it was-shallow, ugly, unreasoning. She made him see it and that, too, made him angry.

”I'll take that as a 'yes,'” she said. ”Is there anyone else you're angry with, Airleas? Your mother, perhaps, or Catahn or . . . ?”

The tears were a flood now and, in them, his voice nearly drowned. ”Me!” The word came out in a trembling wail, making Airleas Malcuim despise himself even further for sounding so infantile. ”I'm angry at me! I can't learn anything! I can't change anything! I can't do anything! Just-just sit up here in this heap of stone and-and hide!”

She merely stood and watched him while he soaked himself in abject misery. Then she moved past him toward the hearth.

He couldn't have stopped the tears if he'd tried, so he didn't try. He let them fall, listening to the sounds of his own labored breathing in concert with outside wind and inside fire.

When at last he was gutted and empty and feeling incredibly alone, he dared turn to see where Taminy had gone. She was sitting on the floor before the hearth, but her eyes were on the flames, not on him.

He rose and went to her and, standing beside her said, ”I'm sorry, Taminy.”

She neither spoke, nor looked at him.

He sat down next to her on the hearth rug. ”Who will be Cyne of Caraid-land? Will Daimhin Feich be Cyne or the Ren Catahn?”

The corners of her mouth twitched. ”No, Airleas, neither. One way or another, you will be Cyne of Caraid-land.”

One way or another? What did that mean?

”But surely, I'm not worthy to be Cyne. I'm . . . I'm terrible.”

”Airleas, have you ever seen a fledgling bird?”

”Yes.”

”Was it beautiful?”

”No. It was ugly. All eyes and beak and talon.”

”Can it fly?”

”No.”

”When it tries it falls out of its nest and lies, flailing, on the earth. You might look at it lying there and say that it had failed. But that is the natural course for a bird, and if it survives its trials and tests, it does learn to fly. It learns, too, how to use its beak and talons properly. It becomes a songbird or a courier pigeon or a royal falcon.”

”I'm not a bird. I'm a person.”

Now she did look at him. ”You're a boy. A boy who is endowed with a fierce, strong Gift-a Gift you must learn to control. A bird can't decide not to fly. But you can decide not to learn what you need to know to become Cyne of Caraid-land. What you did to Broran this morning was not evil. But it was irresponsible. Now you know you have a very strong aidan. What do you choose to do with it?”

He looked down at his hands, folded meekly now in his lap, and he realized something else. Those were the hands that controlled his fate, not Taminy's. As much as he wanted to deed his destiny into her hands or the Ren Catahn's or his mother's, he knew he could not. The choice Taminy held out to him now was his alone to make.

”I choose to learn how to be a Cyne. A good Cyne, pleasing to the Meri.”

”Then learn from those who have things to teach you. Learn swordsmans.h.i.+p from Broran; statesmans.h.i.+p from Catahn; discipline from me; love from your mother. Learn from anyone who offers you knowledge, Airleas. No matter how lowly you esteem them to be.”

He mulled all that over as he slept away his emptiness, his head cradled in Taminy's lap. He dreamed pleasantly of galloping his horse across a great meadow of rippling gra.s.s, hands firm on the reins, the animal solid between his knees. The gra.s.s rose up in waves and became an ocean and the horse became a fantastic boat, whose tiller he leaned upon. Wind filled its sails and pulled it toward a great, gleaming moonrise.

But the journey was interrupted by a terrible pounding, and Airleas feared he had run his magical barque hard aground. The deck s.h.i.+fted beneath him and he was falling and a voice was calling, ”Come!”

He woke with a start, blinking groggily as he made out Eyslk coming through the chamber door, twisting the hem of her sweater in her hands.

”Mistress,” she said, and he realized that her voice trembled no less than the rest of her did.

Her distress washed over him in a great tide, waking him completely. He sat up; just as swiftly, Taminy came to her feet.

”Eyslk! We missed you this morning, whatever is wrong?”

The girl paled. ”It's my mother, Mistress, she-”

”She's ill.” Taminy went to the girl, took her hands. ”What's wrong with her?”

”I don't know. There's this terrible cough and she seems to be in such pain. She sweats buckets, but she's cold as ice and s.h.i.+vering herself all apart. I called the village healer first thing, but she says she can't do aught. She says she thinks it's an inyx. That someone's put magic on Mama.”

Taminy's brow furrowed. ”Who would want to do anything like that?”

”I can't think, Mistress. My mama's a good woman. Fierce sometimes, but good. I can't think anybody we know'd want to harm her. But . . . but she's awful sick and I'm afraid, and Step-da's afraid-”

”I'll come at once, of course.”

Eyslk wobbled with relief. ”If it's no trouble, Mistress.”

Taminy fixed the younger girl with a penetrating gaze. ”You were afraid to ask me.” She put a hand on Eyslk's shoulder. ”Don't ever be afraid to ask me anything, Eyslk. Ever again. And Eyslk, why ever did you run all the way from Airdnasheen? You could have Woven a message and I'd've gotten it just as clearly.”

Even in her anxiety, the girl nearly giggled. ”I . . . I didn't even think of it.”

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