Part 38 (1/2)
Airleas liked that-”lad.” It made him feel . . . normal. He grinned at the Backstere. ”I'd like two of those, please, and a sugar cake.”
He held out a handful of coins, which the Backstere took after a moment of hesitation. Airleas gathered up his prizes, stuffed the baps in his pocket and began nibbling on the sugar cake. The door opened behind him, letting a draft of cold air into the shop and jingling the little silver bell tied to the latch. He turned to see Eyslk's mother, a basket on her arm.
Seeing him, the mistress an-Caerluel smiled and inclined her head. ”Good-day, lord.”
”Good-day, mistress,” he said and found that he also liked being called ”lord.”
Mistress an-Caerluel bid the Backstere good-day and conducted her business with him, trading eggs and herbs for baked goods. Then she turned her attention to Airleas once again.
”Are you enjoying your stay here, lord?”
Enjoying? Airleas had never thought of his tenure here as something to be enjoyed as much as something to be suffered.
”There are things I like about Airdnasheen,” he admitted diplomatically. ”But . . . I wish I could do more.”
”Do more?” repeated Deardru, her dark eyes glinting humorously. ”What might a boy your age do more of?”
Airleas drew himself up, mustering his dignity. ”I'm Cyneric, mistress. I should be doing more to . . . to take back my father's throne-to set things right in Caraid-land.”
Deardru smiled and shook her head. ”How like my first husband you are. Raenulf was ever ready to rise up and defend the land of his ancestors-single-handedly, if necessary.”
”You speak of Raenulf Hageswode, mistress? The Ren Catahn's elder brother?”
”Aye. He was a brave man. A brave boy, too.” She smiled again. ”Like you.”
Airleas flushed at the praise. ”How old was he at his Crask-an-duine?”
Deardru began moving toward the door, drawing Airleas with her smile. ”Well, let me see.” She opened the door, letting in a gust of chill wind, and stepped out into the snow with Airleas at her heels. ”I was thirteen at the time; I suppose he must have been almost fourteen. I'll never forget how proud of him I was. I knew he would be my husband even then.”
”Almost fourteen,” Airleas murmured. ”Older than I am. Catahn was only twelve when he did it. I guess that's why he's Ren.”
Deardru's face clouded momentarily. ”Raenulf was . . . more headstrong than Catahn. He was a man of action. Where Catahn was inclined to sit and think and agonize over his decisions, Raenulf was impulsive, even as a boy. The village elders and the holt Council thought him brash, even c.o.c.ky. He wasn't. He was merely braver than they were, more willing to take risks for what he believed in.” She glanced at Airleas obliquely. ”I imagine you're a bit like that-ready and willing to fight for what you believe to be true. Ready to act on your beliefs.”
”I am,” said Airleas. ”I am ready to fight-to take action, only . . .”
”Only?”
Airleas studied the sloping, snow-covered lane that led toward Deardru-an-Caerluel's house. How to put it into words . . .
”Only I'm not really ready yet. Not for the kind of fight I'll need to wage.”
Deardru's eyebrows rose. ”Who tells you this?”
”Well, Catahn and Osraed Wyth and mother and . . . and Taminy.”
She shook her head. ”So little faith they have in you?”
”Oh no, it's not that. I'm not ready. I've so much to learn-from all of them. I used to think about sneaking away. I even tried it once. I was going to make my way to Creiddylad-raise an army on my way.” He laughed.
”Now, why do you laugh? I think that's very brave. That's the sort of thing Raenulf would have done. It's the sort of thing a Cyne might do.”
”I didn't even have a sword, mistress! Or know how to use one.”
”What matter? You have far greater strength than a sword arm-I can tell.” She looked at him very directly, eyes a.s.sessing. ”I have my share of the aidan, you know. I can tell that you do, too. You're a fountain of it, Cyneric Airleas. Strong, like Raenulf, and brave. You're more ready than you think. More man than many that have made the Crask-an-duine.”
They had come to Deardru's house by now and entered a small fenced yard.
”I have something I want to give you, Cyneric Airleas, if you'll accept a gift from me.”
”I . . . What sort of gift?”
”Wait a moment and I'll show you.”
She went ahead of him to the little house and disappeared within while he stood in the tiny front yard, wondering at how four people could live in a place that was no bigger than his mother's suite of rooms at Mertuile. He glanced up over the house's eaves at the stark castle molded to the mountainside. Even there, his world was extensive, if lacking in luxury.
The door swung wide and the Mistress an-Caerluel reappeared. She held out her hand and placed in his an amulet hung on a thong of braided hair.
”A catamount,” he murmured. ”That's the Hageswode totem.”
”Aye. It belonged to Raenulf. It will draw courage to you and increase and preserve your valor.”
He rubbed the hair between his fingers. ”Whose is this?”
She smiled. ”Mine. It will bind the protection to you while the amulet helps you focus your aidan and your courage.”
”But it was your husband's, mistress. Are you-?”
She closed his fingers around the totem. ”Take it. It should go to another young man so like Raenulf.”
”Shouldn't Eyslk have it?”
”Eyslk is Catahn's now, more than she is mine. Take it, with my blessing.”
He thanked her, amazed by the gesture, bemused by her words, but feeling suddenly much older than his nearly thirteen years-much closer to his Crask-an-duine.
He was standing there alone, studying his prize when someone called his name from the lane. He looked up to see Broran by the narrow gate and quickly settled the amulet over his head.
”The Ren Catahn is looking all over for you,” Broran informed him when he emerged into the road. ”He wants to see what you've learned of swordsmans.h.i.+p. I think he's got a few things he wants to show you himself.”
Airleas caught his breath. ”Do you think I'm ready to learn from the Ren?”
Broran shrugged and began walking toward Hrofceaster. ”Ready as you'll ever be, I reckon. You're not bad,” he added. ”You learn pretty fast. When you want to.”
They walked for a while in silence, then Broran said, ”So, what words did the Mistress an-Caerluel have for you?”
None of your business, was what he wanted to say, but more than that Airleas wanted Broran's good will and so, he said, ”She told me about her husband, Raenulf. What a brave man he was . . .” He shrugged.
”What was it she gave you?”