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+-+--+-+--+-+ VOLUME ELEVEN NUMBER THREE
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| | ==========================================
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+___________+ FFFFF SSS FFFFF N N EEEEE TTTTT
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| ++ | F S F NN N E T
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| ++ | FFF SSS FFF N N N EEE T
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| | F S F N NN E T
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|_________| F SSS F N N EEEEE T
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/___________\ ==========================================
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| | BITNET Fantasy-Science Fiction Fanzine
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___|___________|___ X-Edited by 'Orny' Liscomb <CSDAVE@MAINE>
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<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>
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CONTENTS
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Ex-X-Editorial 'Orny' Liscomb
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History of FSFnet 'Orny' Liscomb
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*A Visit to Connall M. Wendy Hennequin
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*A Bride for Dargon Wendy and Orny
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Date: 082888 Dist: 685
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An "*" indicates story is part of the Dargon Project
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All original materials copyrighted by the author(s)
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<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>
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Ex-X-Editorial
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Well, we all knew it was coming, and here it is: the last issue of
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||
FSFnet. But before I get sentimental, I do want to remind everyone
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||
that John White will begin putting out the new Dargon Project magazine
|
||
real soon. I know that he already has some submissions, and everyone
|
||
who is currently subscribed to FSFnet will automatically be subscribed
|
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to the new magazine. I hope that everyone offers John the same support
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||
I've received in putting out FSFnet. I promise that I won't say "this
|
||
is not an ending, but a beginning", because it is really neither. It
|
||
is a continuation, and hopefully a change for the better.
|
||
And since there is no further mundane business, the reminder of
|
||
this editorial will be the business of ending the magazine. I've
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included in this issue a history of FSFnet, which (at least in *my*
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||
mind) doesn't qualify as 'a work of fantasy', but I felt there might
|
||
be some interest in it (and there were no other submissions
|
||
forthcoming). Still, I think it fitting that this issue contains the
|
||
first true co-written Dargon work, and I must say that I've enjoyed
|
||
working with Wendy on it. I hope you enjoy it.
|
||
And now for the thank-yous. After four years of publication, I
|
||
really cannot thank everyone involved enough for everything that has
|
||
been done to keep FSFnet afloat. However, rather than fill an entire
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||
issue with my personal thanks, I will keep this brief, but heartfelt.
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||
Firstly, of course, I must thank you, the readership, because without
|
||
your interest and support we would never have gotten off the ground in
|
||
the first place. As I wrote at the conclusion of the initial 'issue':
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||
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This is your fanzine, more than it is mine. It is up to you to keep
|
||
it going. I have merely brought you together. Now it is your turn.
|
||
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Well, with a direct readership of nearly 700, I'd say you've kept
|
||
it going. Special thanks and kudos go to everyone who has contributed
|
||
to the magazine, whether their contribution was a story or merely
|
||
letting other people know about FSFnet. Similarly, all those people
|
||
who have set up local distribution points or cross-posted FSFnet also
|
||
deserve recognition. Thanks to Chris Condon for keeping FSFnet in his
|
||
BITLIST and NetMonth magazines, and to Rich Zellich for keeping it in
|
||
the internet LIST-OF-LISTS. Also special thanks to Chuq von Rospach,
|
||
who has handled all the internet distribution of FSFnet since the
|
||
WISCVM gateway was shut down. But of all the people with whom I've
|
||
come in contact in my capacity as editor, two people deserve very
|
||
special recognition, not only by myself, but by everyone.
|
||
Firstly, Joseph Curwen. Curwen is a very intelligent and
|
||
resourceful friend who was one voice among the handful of people who
|
||
were in on FSFnet from the start. Although his submissions to FSFnet
|
||
have been infrequent, they have been among the best works we've seen,
|
||
and he has been a steady companion to me over the years. He was a very
|
||
important element of the Dargon Project, and continues to be a close
|
||
personal friend to myself and the authors who valued his skill. Curwen
|
||
graduated from the University of Missouri at Columbia recently, and
|
||
plans to find employment as a teacher. I have no doubt whatsoever that
|
||
he will also be able to call writing one of his professions in the
|
||
future. FSFnet owes a great deal to this budding author.
|
||
And, secondly, John White. John learned of FSFnet and joined the
|
||
Dargon Project in the summer of 1986 and very quickly began producing
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||
huge quantities of stories which helped see FSFnet through times of
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||
want and times of plenty. John's interrelated stories formed a huge
|
||
work which culminated in issue 10-2 this past spring. But beyond his
|
||
writing, John has also taken a leadership role in the Dargon Project,
|
||
and is now undertaking even more responsability. With the end of
|
||
FSFnet, John has become the manager of the Dargon Project, and also
|
||
the editor of its magazine, which you will see shortly. This is a very
|
||
serious duty, and John is both capable and willing to execute it. Like
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||
Curwen, John has been indispensable to FSFnet, and he deserves
|
||
particular thanks and support as he gets the new zine off the ground.
|
||
With that, my business has concluded. I must say that I have
|
||
enjoyed putting out FSFnet greatly, and I hope that you have enjoyed
|
||
it, as well. It's been an interesting road we've shared, and it has
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||
been a pleasure meeting you all, and working with you. So until we
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meet again, fare thee well, and blessed be.
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-'Orny' Liscomb <CSDAVE@MAINE>
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<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>
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History of FSFnet
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||
The University of Maine has historically had an atmosphere
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||
conducive to student computing. MAINE was among the first sites to
|
||
connect to BITNET (this in 1982), and many students began to
|
||
immediately make use of the new facilities BITNET provided. The
|
||
network was very different then than it is now. There were only a
|
||
handful of sites, all located on the east coast of the US. Most of the
|
||
people who knew how to use were computer science students,
|
||
programmers, and operators. These people were innovators, and their
|
||
attempts to improve BITNET services produced such facilities as
|
||
conference machines, RELAY, CSNEWS, and LISTSERV, which were unknown
|
||
until fairly recently.
|
||
As early as 1982, several individuals within the handful of MAINE
|
||
network users began to print electronic magazines to unite BITNET
|
||
users who had common interests. For example, Andy Robinson began the
|
||
Vm-Com computing newsletter, which eventually blossomed into what is
|
||
currently one of the most widely used service machines on the network,
|
||
CSNEWS@MAINE. In 1984, two humor magazines were being produced at
|
||
MAINE: Barry Gates' "Gliding Byte" and Ric Messier's "Environment
|
||
Account". Also, later would come Brent Britton's "Nutworks" humor
|
||
magazine and Michael Murphy's "Network Audio-Bits". While there is no
|
||
obvious rasoning as to why all these magazines developed at UMaine,
|
||
this environment was responsible for the germination of FSFnet.
|
||
In December of 1984, with several of these magazines based at
|
||
MAINE thriving and enjoying a healthy popularity, I began to entertain
|
||
thoughts of beginning my own science fiction and fantasy magazine.
|
||
Through my own use of BITNET I knew that there was a huge number of
|
||
fans on the network, and I felt that a magazine along these lines
|
||
would not only be very popular, but would also help get these fans
|
||
together, because at that time there were no facilities on the network
|
||
for meeting people with similar interests. With these ideas kicking
|
||
around my head, I bounced them off a couple friends (both local and
|
||
network), who gave me ample encouragement, and I was on my way. I had
|
||
had some experience in editing a fanzine previously, when I put out
|
||
the New England Tolkien Society's 'Mazar Balinu', a yearly magazine
|
||
containing Tolkien-related fiction, art, and poetry. I had been
|
||
involved with Tolkien and fantasy fandom for several years, and had
|
||
been writing articles and fantasy stories for some time, as well. I
|
||
wanted the new magazine to be like 'Mazar Balinu', in that it would
|
||
concentrate not on news and reviews (the usual fare for most
|
||
'fanzines'), but on printing amateur fiction. The support of budding
|
||
authors (myself included, of course) has always been a particular
|
||
interest of mine, and I felt that a fiction-based magazine would be
|
||
more interesting to read and would enjoy more popularity than if
|
||
FSFnet followed the formula for a 'traditional' fanzine.
|
||
Just after Christmas (1984) I sent out a preliminary mailing
|
||
(volume 0, number 0) to an initial distribution of 100 users whose
|
||
interests (as listed in the newly-begun BITNAUTS LIST) included
|
||
science fiction- or fantasy-related topics. The intent of this mailing
|
||
was to make the public aware of FSFnet's existence and to solicit
|
||
submissions. Response was generally favorable, and FSFNET VOL01N1 was
|
||
sent out in January of 1985 with several articles I had received, as
|
||
well as a very attractive new logo designed by a friend in West
|
||
Virginia. This issue contained a little of everything, including a
|
||
book review, a movie review, a science fiction story, and a featured
|
||
author column. After the first issue was sent out, users who had not
|
||
responded to the initial mailing or who were not interested were
|
||
removed from the distribution list. The mailing list hovered around 70
|
||
for the first few months of the magazine's existence, which was a
|
||
healthy start. I had decided to print volumes in trimesters, so each
|
||
year would contain a Spring volume, a Summer volume, and a Winter
|
||
volume, to parallel the school year. By the end of the first volume
|
||
(Spring 1985) which contained eight issues, I had written a program to
|
||
automate the sending of issues from my account (at that time
|
||
NMCS025@MAINE) in three different file formats, so as to accommodate
|
||
all readers. Several network servers had also agreed to post issues
|
||
for public access. The content of the first volume was varied, and
|
||
included the beginnings of a science fiction series called "the Narret
|
||
Chronicles", a two part story by Michael Murphy called "the Dream",
|
||
and a special issue dedicated to H.P. Lovecraft. FSFnet had met with
|
||
initial success, and we were off and running.
|
||
The second volume (Summer 1985), however, saw a dramatic change.
|
||
In contrast to the eight-issue first volume, it contained only two
|
||
issues, and alerted me to the problem of finding adequate submissions
|
||
during the summer, when many students are on vacation and not on the
|
||
network. Similarly, readership fell to an all-time low of
|
||
approximately 35 before it started picking up again in the fall, with
|
||
the return of students to school. With a distribution of less than
|
||
fifty and serious difficulty securing an adequate number of
|
||
submissions, I began to have serious doubts about the continued
|
||
existence of the magazine.
|
||
During the fall of 1985 (volume three), my original account,
|
||
NMCS025, was renamed to CSDAVE@MAINE due to my increasing role in the
|
||
administration of the CSNEWS server. This account was used to send out
|
||
all subsequent issues. Subscriptions began to edge their way up, and
|
||
by the final issue of volume three (3-5), membership was up again to
|
||
91 readers. This issue marked the climax of the Narret tales, and also
|
||
the conclusion of Roman Olynyk's "Acquisition" story. However, in
|
||
November of 1985, being concerned with the future of FSFnet, I sent
|
||
out a mailing to the authors I knew, introducing the possibility of a
|
||
collective writing project based on an idea similar to that of Robert
|
||
Lynn Asprin's "Thieves' World" series. We would get together to
|
||
outline a basic setting, and the authors would introduce and share
|
||
characters within that communal setting. The response was very
|
||
enthusiastic, and early on Alan Clegg set up a discussion group for
|
||
the project on LISTSERV at NCSUVM. After kicking around several ideas
|
||
for the shared setting, by the end of November we had settled down
|
||
with a core group of writers and the basic premise of a medieval duchy
|
||
known as Dargon. Soon the authors began talking about characters and
|
||
plot lines, and I made it known publicly that issue 4-1 would see the
|
||
printing of the first Dargon Project stories. At the conclusion of its
|
||
first year of publication, FSFnet had put out fifteen issues and
|
||
subscriptions were once again steadily increasing, and though there
|
||
were some early problems, with the beginning of the Dargon Project at
|
||
hand, the future was clearly going to be considerably better.
|
||
With the publication of the first Dargon stories, FSFnet underwent
|
||
its first large-scale membership expansion. Between the end of volume
|
||
3 and the printing of VOL04N4 (the last issue of volume four),
|
||
membership had risen from approximately 90 to just shy of 150. FSFnet
|
||
was now being listed in Chris Condon's new BITLIST magazine of network
|
||
services (which would later develop into NetMonth magazine), giving
|
||
FSFnet visibility on the network beyond word of mouth. But the
|
||
importance of volume four was in its content. FSFnet's best writers
|
||
were turning out new, interrelated stories within the context of the
|
||
Duchy of Dargon, and the size, distribution, and quality of issues
|
||
were increasing rapidly. The Dargon Project lent stability to the
|
||
magazine and helped improve its content and give it some identity
|
||
beyond that of 'just another fanzine'.
|
||
During the summer of 1986 (volume five), despite the low activity
|
||
during the summer months, three very good issues were produced. The
|
||
first issue was a special wargaming issue, and contained some
|
||
excellent articles on related subjects. The second and third issues
|
||
introduced several new project authors, including John White, who
|
||
would be a major contributor to the magazine. VOL05N3 was a special
|
||
double-sized issue (nearly 1200 lines long), but with the increase in
|
||
quality and output generated by the Dargon Project, such lengths would
|
||
soon become standard issue size.
|
||
Volume six, which contained five issues, saw two very important
|
||
changes within the distribution of FSFnet. The first change was that
|
||
FSFnet began being distributed to internet sites on ARPAnet and
|
||
Usenet/UUCP, and was listed in the "List of Lists" master index of
|
||
inter-network digests. The second change was that issues were now
|
||
being distributed via LISTSERV's DISTRIBUTE facility, rather than each
|
||
being sent individually directly from CSDAVE@MAINE. These two changes
|
||
vastly increased FSFnet's potential audience, and at the same time
|
||
dramatically reduced its network load, permitting larger issues to be
|
||
sent more efficiently to more people. Readership containued to grow
|
||
constantly, passing the 225-reader mark before the end of 1986.
|
||
The spring of 1987 was similarly successful. The seventh volume
|
||
contained five more issues, as subscriptions increased to over 350.
|
||
The idea of hardcopy subscriptions was toyed with, but due to a
|
||
personal lack of funds for a decent printer, was never implemented.
|
||
The summer of 1987 volume contained four issues. During this time
|
||
I got married and honeymooned at the Society for Creative
|
||
Anachronism's Pennsic War, in the process meeting several FSFnet
|
||
readers and contributors. Volumes 7 and 8 both contained many of the
|
||
best stories FSFnet has ever printed, and at the beginning of autumn,
|
||
subscriptions totalled about 410.
|
||
In the fall of 1987, only three issues were produced, but
|
||
membership broke the 500 mark. One interesting event during this
|
||
period happened when I accidentally discovered a separate FSFnet
|
||
mailing list which had been managed by a server. Unfortunately, since
|
||
the server had become defunct, the nearly 100 people who thought that
|
||
they were subscribed were not receiving issues at all! After I
|
||
corrected the problem with the server and contacted these people,
|
||
about one third of them signed up for subscriptions.
|
||
The first issue of volume 10 represented the third anniversary
|
||
issue of FSFnet, and was the fourtieth issue printed, and featured two
|
||
stories by Joseph Curwen, an author who had been with FSFnet since its
|
||
beginning. Although not a frequent contributor, his wisdom and
|
||
influence has been a major force in the magazine's development.
|
||
Unfortunately, his graduation at this time severely limited his
|
||
network access, and FSFnet lost one of its best writers. The second
|
||
issue of volume 10 contained the culmination of John White's epic
|
||
Dargon saga, and there was more than enough material to produce six
|
||
issues in this volume. At the end of spring, readership supassed 630
|
||
and continued to rise.
|
||
The summer of 1988 has seen the final volume of FSFnet. With some
|
||
recent additions to the staff, the content of volume 11 has been
|
||
superb. At this time, FSFnet is sent (directly) to 603 BITNET users at
|
||
318 sites, and 82 internet users. There are 159 foreign readers in 21
|
||
countries, and 444 domestic readers in 42 states, exclusive of
|
||
internet readers. FSFnet has put out 48 issues in just under four
|
||
years, with 166 stories and articles totalling approximately 2.5
|
||
million characters of information.
|
||
|
||
With the distribution of this issue, FSFnet has officially ended
|
||
publication. The Dargon Project will continue to function under the
|
||
leadership of John White (WHITE@DUVM), and Dargon stories will be
|
||
printed in a new magazine edited by him, also. All readers who are
|
||
currently subscribed to FSFnet will automatically be subscribed to
|
||
this new magazine, so there will be no loss of continuity. If you have
|
||
any questions or needs, please address them to John, as he's in charge
|
||
now, and the CSDAVE@MAINE account will be deleted in the near future.
|
||
Again, my thanks to everyone who has been involved with FSFnet, from
|
||
those who simply read it to those involved in production and everyone
|
||
else. And, of course, I hope that everyone continues their efforts to
|
||
help John make the new magazine even better.
|
||
-'Orny' Liscomb <CSDAVE@MAINE>
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<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>
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A Visit to Connall
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||
It was hours before dawn when Myrande Shipbrook woke. Quietly, she
|
||
slipped from her bed and quickly made it. She went to the small table
|
||
to the left of her bed, poured the water from the china pitcher into
|
||
the bowl, washed her face and hands with rose-scented soap, and
|
||
finally scrubbed her face and hands dry with the folded towel that had
|
||
been resting on the little table.
|
||
She silently slipped out of her plain nightgown and pulled on her
|
||
muslin chemise. Over this, Myrande put on a plain white overdress of
|
||
muslin, a cool dress, and one easy to clean. She belted the dress with
|
||
a plain leather belt which wrapped once around her waist, slipped
|
||
through a round iron buckle, and left a long strip of leather hanging
|
||
by her left leg. At the end of the dangling strip was another iron
|
||
ring, to which Myrande attached a heavy ring of keys.
|
||
She slipped into her shoes and left her room.
|
||
Myrande was, by nature, an early riser, but not even she enjoyed
|
||
leaving her bed this early. Still, there was much to be done today;
|
||
the Baron of Coranabo, his Baroness, and their daughter Danza were
|
||
coming tonight to visit the Baron of Connall. She was the Seneschale
|
||
for the Baron of Connall, and it was her duty to see that all things
|
||
in his household went smoothly.
|
||
First things first. Breakfast. Clutching the keys in her hands so
|
||
that they would not wake the household, Myrande went from her room in
|
||
the family wing of the keep toward the kitchen. Suddenly she stopped,
|
||
surprised by lamplight spilling from the Baron's study.
|
||
She knocked on the open door and entered. "My lord, when are you
|
||
going to bed?" she asked as she crossed the room.
|
||
Baron Luthias Connall sat behind a desk with an open book in front
|
||
of him. "In a little while, Sable, I promise. I just want to finish
|
||
this chapter."
|
||
Myrande slipped behind the Baron, placed her hands on his
|
||
shoulders and began kneading them gently. Luthias groaned as she began
|
||
loosening the tense muscles, and his head dropped back to rest on
|
||
Myrande's chest. She brushed her hand over his eyes so that he would
|
||
close them. "Relax, my lord," she invited. "What are you reading?"
|
||
"'History of the Blortnikson Emperors,'" Luthias told her. "I am
|
||
reading it to clear my head. I was reading Fernusius Cai all night. I
|
||
needed a break from laws." He opened his eyes, looked at her. "And
|
||
don't 'my lord' me, Sable. I do not want to hear it from you. You have
|
||
known me all my life, and it's no time to start 'my lord'ing me now."
|
||
Myrande smiled. "All right, Luthias." She continued her massage,
|
||
as Luthias closed his eyes. "When were you planning to retire?"
|
||
"Midnight. That way, I figured I could get up at dawn and still
|
||
have several hours of sleep and be reasonably awake for Coranabo's
|
||
visit. And you," he continued, his tone playful, his lips smiling,
|
||
"you, Mistress Mother, when are you going to sleep?"
|
||
"I just got up."
|
||
The young Baron's eyes snapped open. "You're joking."
|
||
Myrande shook her head. "No. This is the third time you have done
|
||
such this week, Luthias. You have got to stop this."
|
||
"There's just so much I don't know," Luthias sighed, closing his
|
||
eyes again and relaxing a little beneath Myrande's touch. "I wish
|
||
Roisart were here to help me. I have been Baron a month, and I still
|
||
feel so inadequate."
|
||
"You're doing well," Myrande reassured him. "The people respect
|
||
you, and your cousin, the Duke, asks your advice, and your lands are
|
||
run smoothly."
|
||
"That's your doing, Lady Seneschale," Luthias growled. "You take
|
||
care of this castle, you administer the castle lands, and that alone
|
||
is the work of two people. Then, on top of that, you help me run the
|
||
barony, you act as my hostess, and help me take care of my social
|
||
responsibilities. Besides, you do a job you shouldn't have to."
|
||
"What one is that?"
|
||
"Take care of the Baron." Luthias took a deep breath. "Maybe I
|
||
should marry and let some woman be my Baroness, and she could take
|
||
some of the work from you--help me with the barony--"
|
||
"And take care of the Baron?" Myrande suggested playfully.
|
||
Luthias began to smile, but then groaned as Myrande hit a sore
|
||
knot in his muscles. He opened his eyes, looked Myrande in the face,
|
||
and smiled. "No one could do that as well as you. Perhaps I should
|
||
just marry you, Sable, and find myself another seneschal. You'd make a
|
||
superb Baroness, and not only are you the most beautiful woman in
|
||
Dargon, you give the best massages in the kingdom."
|
||
Myrande smiled and continued rubbing Luthias' tired flesh. Looking
|
||
down into his open eyes, she said, "You never found me so before."
|
||
Luthias gazed up at his seneschale. She possessed long, thick,
|
||
raven hair wound into a single braid behind her head. Her eyes were
|
||
almost as dark as her hair, eyes near the color of polished ebony. The
|
||
simple white dress flattered her slim figure and made her dark skin
|
||
seem duskier. Luthias took her hand--a small, strong hand--pressed to
|
||
his cheek in the courtly manner. "You've always been beautiful to me,
|
||
Sable, ever since we were children." He kissed her callused palm.
|
||
"You're working too hard."
|
||
"So are you, Luthias," Myrande reminded him, touching his cheek.
|
||
Gently, Luthias reached up, brushed her chin with his fingertips.
|
||
"You look exhausted. You're doing too much. You should appoint
|
||
yourself an assistant." Then Luthias smiled again. "You're still
|
||
beautiful." He stared at the ceiling. "I always thought you'd be the
|
||
next Baroness, that Roisart would marry you."
|
||
"He did ask me, not long ago," Myrande revealed.
|
||
"I know," Luthias said, smiling wryly. "He told me about it. I've
|
||
never seen a man so happy to be refused. He said you were in love with
|
||
someone else. He must have been very impressed with him--he said he
|
||
couldn't have chosen a better man." He sighed, closed his eyes. "But
|
||
he would never tell me who it was--he said it was in confidence."
|
||
"It was. I swore him to secrecy."
|
||
"I was hurt that you didn't trust me, too, Sable."
|
||
At this very candid revelation, still laced with bitter pain,
|
||
Myrande's hands froze. "I didn't think you cared much for love or
|
||
lovers, Luthias."
|
||
"I don't, but I care about you."
|
||
Myrande slowly started to massage again. "I was afraid you would
|
||
laugh at me."
|
||
"You had no trouble telling Roisart," Luthias accused, and there
|
||
was an edge of anger in his voice.
|
||
For a moment, Myrande, too, was angry, but she forced calmness on
|
||
herself. Thinking of that moment, when Roisart had asked her to be his
|
||
wife and she'd had to wound him, brought tears to her eyes. "I
|
||
would not have told him, but I wanted him to understand why I couldn't
|
||
marry him." For a moment, she fell silent. "I was afraid that you
|
||
would laugh at me. Or that he would be scared away."
|
||
Quickly, Luthias rose and faced her. He took her small hands in
|
||
his. "I would never, never laugh at that, Sable. Have I ever laughed
|
||
at that sort of thing? Gods know that Roisart provided enough
|
||
opportunity for me to laugh at love, but I never did." He stopped and
|
||
dropped her hands. "And I would never laugh at you, Sable." Then, he
|
||
looked confused. "What do you mean, scared away?"
|
||
"You and Roisart were very protective of me."
|
||
"True enough," Luthias admitted. A thought flashed in his brain,
|
||
and he smiled. "You weren't afraid I'd be jealous, were you, Sable?"
|
||
"Not once."
|
||
"He better treat you well, or I'll bash his head in."
|
||
"That would be interesting," Myrande said, a grin lighting her
|
||
eyes. "I told you that you were very protective of me..." Myrande
|
||
gazed at the young Baron, whom she thought handsome, but she could see
|
||
the strain in his face and the fatigue in the circles beneath his
|
||
eyes. "Looks like you are ready to bash your own against a wall."
|
||
"There's so much to do," Luthias told her. "There's a near panic,
|
||
what with all these rumors about a Bichanese attack--"
|
||
"I've heard them," Myrande commented. "I've been watching food and
|
||
getting ready to store and preserve the harvest, just in case. But
|
||
would Bichu really attack us?"
|
||
"Of course not," Luthias said confidently. "Considering their
|
||
distance from us, it would be idiotic. According to Michiya, the
|
||
Bichanese already have posts on another continent, one closer to their
|
||
own nation, and it would be simpler and more profitable for them to
|
||
wage war there."
|
||
"Still, as you said, there's a panic."
|
||
"Yes, and it bothers me." Luthias was grim. "People so frantic
|
||
become paranoid. Mob paranoia, Sable, has to be one of the most
|
||
dangerous and destructive forces. Its victims are more likely to be
|
||
innocent than guilty. It is the panic, more than the rumors, which
|
||
truly worries me."
|
||
"Well, get some sleep," Myrande advised, brushing some hair from
|
||
his eyes. "I'll wake you mid-morning, and then you'll have some sleep
|
||
and most of the day to do some work."
|
||
"I'm not that tired, Sable," Luthias asserted.
|
||
"Don't lie to me," Myrande cut him off with a smile. "You can't
|
||
lie to me, Luthias; I know you too well. Go to bed. There is no work
|
||
that cannot wait a few hours, and you look like you're about to drop."
|
||
"The words were becoming a little fuzzy," Luthias admitted. "But
|
||
after I eat breakfast and drink some tea--"
|
||
"Go to bed, or I'll wake the men-at-arms and have them carry you,"
|
||
Myrande threatened.
|
||
Luthias chuckled. "By God, Myrande, you would make an excellent
|
||
Baroness." Suddenly, he sobered. "Sable--Myrande. The man you
|
||
love...it isn't Clifton, is it?" He paused a moment then rushed,
|
||
"Because he...I never thought he was particularly interested in you.
|
||
They say he's making eyes at some girl from Magnus. Sable, I don't
|
||
want you to be hurt, and Clifton--"
|
||
"It isn't Clifton," Myrande assured him, putting a hand on the
|
||
Baron's arm. "Get some sleep, and sweet dreams, Luthias."
|
||
Luthias covered her hand with his own and squeezed her fingers.
|
||
"Thanks, Sable. Good night."
|
||
"Good night." With a sigh, the young Baron of Connall left the
|
||
room. Myrande turned out the lamp, and closed the door on her way out.
|
||
She watched him trek slowly down the hall. Myrande knew how hard
|
||
being a Baron was for Luthias. He, by nature, was a warrior, not a
|
||
governor, but he was smart and was learning rapidly. It was a heavy
|
||
burden to be borne, especially by a young man who had just lost, not a
|
||
month before, his beloved father and twin brother, Roisart.
|
||
She sighed, understanding what it was to take on responsibility so
|
||
soon after-- why, she herself had become the seneschale to Luthias'
|
||
father soon after her mother, who had been seneschale before her, and
|
||
father, who had been castellan, died of the Red Plague. Fionn Connall,
|
||
the late Baron, had been father to her, and she had lost him; and
|
||
although Roisart had not been twin to her, he had been her brother,
|
||
and she missed him sorely.
|
||
Alone, she walked to the kitchen and began to pull supplies out of
|
||
the pantries. In an hour, the servants would be coming to prepare the
|
||
breakfast, but she had to prepare the preparations, it seemed.
|
||
Myrande ate some bread and cheese, drank some tea, which warmed
|
||
her, and wished she could go back to bed.
|
||
After checking supplies, she started a quick inspection of the
|
||
kitchen. She sat for another moment, reviewing what needed to be done
|
||
for the day. After making a list of work, she inspected the castle
|
||
(clutching her keys to keep her presence silent), and checked which
|
||
rooms needed to be cleaned and aired, seeing what little repairs
|
||
needed to be done. The grounds, gardens, and stables she would check
|
||
after dawn. Then she silently returned to the kitchen.
|
||
Myrande greeted the servants, who entered the kitchen in pairs or
|
||
small groups. As they ate, she gave her orders for the day: this
|
||
needed to be repaired, and this needed to be cleaned, and this must be
|
||
done for the visit of the Baron of Coranabo, and this must be done
|
||
because the castellan and the inspecting guards were returning today.
|
||
A man-at-arms interrupted them by entering the kitchen. "My lady,"
|
||
he called, "the castellan and the inspecting troops have returned."
|
||
"Kindly tell the castellan that I will attend him later in my
|
||
office," She sent the message formally. The soldier bowed and left.
|
||
After giving a few final orders, Myrande took her keys in hand and
|
||
toured the gardens, grounds, and stables. All was in good order,
|
||
except a tree felled by the particularly horrendous thunderstorm of
|
||
the previous night. Myrande ordered it cleared and cut for firewood.
|
||
When she returned to the keep, it was nearly mid-morning. She
|
||
retired to her office to work on the household accounts, which must be
|
||
presented and explained to the Baron at the end of each month. Myrande
|
||
kept her accounts in order, and was only adding this day's purchases.
|
||
There was a knock on the door. Myrande looked up and saw Ittosai
|
||
Michiya, Castellan of Connall, in the doorway. She rose and bowed in
|
||
the Bichanese manner. He returned the bow and motioned for a young
|
||
servant behind him to bring in the tea tray.
|
||
"Welcome home, Castellan," Myrande greeted as the servant left.
|
||
Ittosai Michiya smiled and sat. He took the teapot in his hands
|
||
and poured the aromatic, steaming liquid into two small Bichanese
|
||
teacups. "Tea, my lady?"
|
||
Myrande accepted the drink with a Bichurian bow. "Thank you. And,
|
||
Castellan--"
|
||
"Yes, my lady?" asked Michiya, sipping.
|
||
"You don't need to address me so formally. We are of the same
|
||
rank--persons of noble blood, in high service to the Baron. My name is
|
||
Myrande, and," she added, in the tone of a good-spirited command, "I
|
||
intend that you shall use it."
|
||
"As you like, Myrande." Her name sounded foreign on his tongue.
|
||
"And I am Michiya." He paused a moment, appeared confused. "But..."
|
||
"What?"
|
||
"If your name is Myrande, why does Luthias-san call you Sable?"
|
||
Myrande grinned, then laughed. "That's a long story, and an old
|
||
one." She sipped her tea, then continued, "It was a name the Baron,
|
||
his father, and his brother Roisart called me."
|
||
"Why?"
|
||
"It is because of my hair and eyes, I suppose," Myrande explained.
|
||
"And because of something that happened when we were little."
|
||
Michiya looked very interested, so Myrande went on. "When we were
|
||
babies just learning to walk and run, Roisart, Luthias, and I were
|
||
playing in the late Baron's study."
|
||
"Late Baron? As if he were delayed and you were still expecting
|
||
him," commented Michiya. He shook his head. There were some
|
||
expressions in this confounded language that were plainly idiotic.
|
||
Myrande laughed. "It is a strange expression." She continued,
|
||
"Apparently, I was trying to keep up with the twins, who were older
|
||
and could run, and I could only walk. I fell, but didn't cry. Still, I
|
||
must have looked pretty pathetic. Roisart saw I had fallen, and he
|
||
started bringing me every thing he could get his little hands
|
||
on--toys, the flowers in a vase, then the vase, a book his father was
|
||
holding, everything. Luthias, being a little bit more forward, just
|
||
put his arms around me and kissed me."
|
||
Ittosai Michiya watched the seneschale intently. She had a happy,
|
||
nostalgic look on her face as she pictured the twins. Michiya pictured
|
||
her, a tiny child of elfin looks, night-dark hair, and black eyes.
|
||
"Then the twins' father said to my father, 'Your Myrande is going
|
||
to grow to be quite a sable beauty. See, she's enchanted my boys
|
||
already.'" Myrande brought her focus out of the past and looked
|
||
Michiya in the eye. "Ever since, the Connalls have called me Sable.
|
||
You can call me that too, if you like."
|
||
"Luthias-san's brother, he called you Sable?" Myrande nodded.
|
||
"Then I may do so. I thought it was a name only he had for you." She
|
||
shook her head. "It is sad, what happened to Roisart. And Luthias-san,
|
||
he needs a brother."
|
||
"Oh, I think you and Duke Clifton are filling that need rather
|
||
nicely," Myrande commented. "He relies on your advice, Michiya, and he
|
||
must respect you a great deal to have made you castellan."
|
||
Michiya grinned. "In Bichu, I am a second son, and I would have
|
||
been what you call castellan to my own brother if I had stayed. But I
|
||
am here, and will be brother and castellan to Luthias-san instead."
|
||
Myrande asked, "Did you know that the Baron of Coranabo is coming
|
||
to visit the Baron today?"
|
||
Michiya shook his head. "Why visit? Will he not see him in the
|
||
city in a week's time, when the Duke holds his ball again?"
|
||
Myrande considered this. "I'm not sure why he's coming. He said in
|
||
his letter that he had a private matter to discuss with the Baron. But
|
||
he's bringing his wife and his elder daughter..." Myrande shrugged
|
||
casually. "Well, Coranabo is an odd man, Michiya. Anything is
|
||
possible." She took a sip of her tea. "In any case, Baron Coranabo may
|
||
bring some soldiers with him. Have you room for them in the barracks?"
|
||
"Yes, plenty."
|
||
She nodded, satisfied. "I trust you can take care of them then?"
|
||
Michiya nodded. "Of course." He paused. "I must make a report to
|
||
you about the inspection. Do you wish the report now, Myrande, or do
|
||
you wish me to wait until Luthias-san awakes?"
|
||
Myrande considered. "Best wait until he's up; you'd only have to
|
||
give it twice otherwise. Besides, Michiya, he should be up shortly.
|
||
I'll have him join us after his breakfast. In the meantime, you can
|
||
tell me what supplies you need for the soldiers and the barracks."
|
||
Ittosai dutifully began naming his needs. Myrande jotted them down
|
||
on a scrap of parchment. "These shouldn't be a problem. Is there
|
||
anything you need personally, Michiya?"
|
||
Ittosai screwed up his visage in thought. "Yes, Myrande. I need
|
||
clothes for attending formalities, such as the Duke's ball next week."
|
||
Myrande wrote this. "That reminds me, I need new gowns, and
|
||
several nice chemises. I only have one gown, and since Luthias is
|
||
doing so much entertaining now and I'm acting as his hostess, I'm
|
||
going to need to dress up more often. I'll order your suit and my
|
||
gowns tomorrow, Ittosai. Would you like it in the Bichanese style?
|
||
What colors?"
|
||
"Yes, I like most the style of my home. For colors, I prefer blue
|
||
and white."
|
||
Myrande noted this on her paper. Just then, there was a knock on
|
||
the office doorframe. "Come," Myrande answered.
|
||
Jahn, Luthias' manservant, entered the room. "My lady, I hate to
|
||
trouble you, but I..." The servant looked abashed. "I can't seem to
|
||
wake the Baron."
|
||
"It's going to be one of those days," Myrande sighed. She rose.
|
||
"Lord Michiya, I'll be back as soon as I can, but this may take a
|
||
little while." She clutched her keys, and followed Jahn out.
|
||
As they approached the Baron's chambers, Myrande asked, "What did
|
||
he do when you woke him, Jahn?"
|
||
"He just said something and turned over." He remember late to add,
|
||
"My lady. I tried again, but he will not budge."
|
||
"All right," Myrande acknowledged. "You can go about whatever else
|
||
you had to do. I will see to the Baron."
|
||
Jahn's face lit with a knowing look. "As you wish, lady."
|
||
He left her, and Myrande didn't give him a second glance. Still,
|
||
the look on the manservant's face stayed with her.
|
||
Yes, now it'll be all over the castle that Luthias and I...Myrande
|
||
smiled and shrugged. Oh, well. There were many worse things.
|
||
Still clutching her keys, she opened the door to the Baron's
|
||
bedroom and walked in. Silently, she shut the door behind her. In the
|
||
darkened room, Luthias still lay, barely clad, on his bed, with the
|
||
covers doing everything but the function for which they were intended.
|
||
She crept over to the bed and sat on the edge. Gently, she touched
|
||
his forehead. He didn't move. Myrande put her hand on Luthias' strong
|
||
shoulder and gently shook it. No response. Again, she shook his
|
||
shoulder, but harder this time. No response. Myrande shook him again,
|
||
called him: "Luthias."
|
||
"A few more moments," muttered the Baron, turning away from her.
|
||
Myrande smiled. Some things never changed. Both Luthias and
|
||
Roisart had been like this since the gods knew when. "Come on,
|
||
Luthias. No more time. You've got to get up."
|
||
"A few more moments, Sable," mumbled the Lord of Connall. "Just a
|
||
few more moments. And then I'll get up. I promise."
|
||
"Knowing you, you said that to Jahn five minutes ago," Myrande
|
||
returned. "It's past half-noon. Get up."
|
||
Luthias' eyes opened. "Past half-noon? Sable, why didn't you get
|
||
me up sooner? You know that I want to be up by--"
|
||
"I don't doubt that Jahn tried," Myrande rued.
|
||
"Damn it, Sable," Luthias swore, sitting up. "Here you are, taking
|
||
care of the Baron again." He was grim. "I wanted to be up earlier.
|
||
Everything's going to be late now."
|
||
"Don't worry. Everything's under control," Myrande assured him.
|
||
Luthias, half-growling, left his bed and went past his seneschale
|
||
to his wardrobe. He flung it open. "If it is, it's your doing, Sable.
|
||
You're doing the work of eight people."
|
||
"Nonsense," said Myrande, smiling.
|
||
Luthias removed a light-colored tunic and some darker breeches,
|
||
which he proceeded to pull on in front of his seneschale. "When is
|
||
Coranabo coming?"
|
||
"This afternoon." She went to the wardrobe and leaned against it.
|
||
Luthias struggled into his lighter tunic and belted it. "Do me a favor
|
||
and meet me and Lord Ittosai in my office."
|
||
"Why don't I just eat breakfast with you?" Myrande just nodded and
|
||
she left the room.
|
||
|
||
Now that it was nearly over, Myrande knew that she had been right:
|
||
it was one of those days.
|
||
The Coranabos had come two hours earlier than Myrande or Luthias
|
||
had expected. Luthias looked fine, if informal, but Myrande's white
|
||
cotton overdress was stained and streaked with sweat. She had hardly
|
||
looked the hostess, but Luthias told her she looked fine, and
|
||
together, they had greeted their visitors.
|
||
There was a fire in the kitchen, right after that, and Myrande had
|
||
her hands full keeping the servants calm and the fire small. With the
|
||
help of a few courageous grooms, the small grease fire was quickly
|
||
extinguished, and the visitors and Luthias never knew it happened.
|
||
Myrande had hardly time enough to take a quick bath and dress
|
||
herself in her only nice gown before dinner, which, luckily, went
|
||
well. The meat was juicy and tender, and the greens fresh and tasty,
|
||
the bread newly baked.
|
||
The talk was pleasant, general. As they all talked, Myrande
|
||
watched the visitors, but inconspicuously. She was trying to discern
|
||
why Coranabo had come. It was hard to figure out anything about the
|
||
Baron of Coranabo. Coranabo was a tall, hard- eyed man, his gray hair
|
||
balding, his age, perhaps five and fifty. He smiled, but the smile was
|
||
superficial. Myrande wondered if something were wrong in Dargon and he
|
||
was just waiting to discuss after the meal.
|
||
His wife was pleasant: a petite lady with graying hair who spoke
|
||
gaily of society. The daughter, though, was enigmatic and why she had
|
||
come, Myrande could not guess. Danza, the girl--for so she was; she
|
||
could not be older than fifteen, Myrande guessed- -was silent
|
||
throughout the dinner, and did not lift her eyes from her plate.
|
||
Myrande couldn't attribute the silence or shyness to lack of
|
||
confidence; pretty, petite, golden-haired Danza held herself proudly
|
||
and confidently. It made no sense that a gorgeous girl of marriageable
|
||
age would stare at her plate instead of flirting with the Baron of
|
||
Connall, the second most eligible man in the duchy.
|
||
After dinner, Luthias led his guests into the study for an after
|
||
dinner drink. "Brandy, Baron?" Luthias asked politely.
|
||
"Yes, thank you, Luthias," Coranabo answered congenially.
|
||
"My lady?" Luthias asked the Baroness as Myrande went to the
|
||
spirits cabinet.
|
||
"Some wine would be fine, thank you, Luthias." The Baroness smiled
|
||
at the younger Baron as she would have smiled on her own son, if she
|
||
had one. "Lady Myrande, would there be some of that famous golden wine
|
||
of Magnus in the cupboard?"
|
||
"I believe so, Baroness," Myrande replied cheerfully, moving a few
|
||
bottles around.
|
||
"Would you care for some sherry, Lady Danza?" Luthias asked his
|
||
youngest guest gently. Myrande had noted the gentle manner in which
|
||
Luthias had treated Danza during dinner, and she didn't like it. Angry
|
||
at herself, Myrande shook it off. It was just like Luthias to be
|
||
protective toward slight, delicate girls. He was the same way with
|
||
Pecora. That never bothered her. There was no need that this should.
|
||
Danza shook her head and mumbled something. "Some sherry for lady
|
||
Danza, Myrande."
|
||
"Yes, my lord," she replied docilely enough. She smiled at the
|
||
Baron, who smiled back: the casual intimate grin of long-time friends.
|
||
Myrande wrenched her eyes away from Luthias', took out the brandy, the
|
||
gold wine, the sherry, and five glasses from the cupboard. "What would
|
||
you like, my lord?"
|
||
"Brandy, thank you, Sable," Luthias replied, losing his formality,
|
||
slipping into the normal affection he showed towards her. He still was
|
||
aware of his obligations of host, however, and he motioned for his
|
||
guests to sit. Coranabo and his wife took a seat near the west wall,
|
||
directly in front of the small table where Myrande was pouring. Danza
|
||
took a seat opposite her, and Luthias moved to stand behind her, so
|
||
that he might face his guests.
|
||
Myrande passed Coranabo and his wife his drink. The Baron thanked
|
||
her, then said, "Luthias, my boy, it's time that I got to the reason
|
||
for this visit."
|
||
"I wish you would," Luthias said congenially. "I've been wondering
|
||
about it."
|
||
"I wished to surprise you," Coranabo said with a smile. "Not that
|
||
I thought you'd suspect, but--"
|
||
"Why don't you tell us what it is, Baron?" Myrande suggested with
|
||
the lilt of laughter in her voice. Just like Coranabo to keep them
|
||
guessing. She could remember her father and Luthias' laughing about
|
||
the shrewdness of Baron Coranabo, how he used ploys to feed his flair
|
||
for the dramatic. She unstopped the sherry bottle.
|
||
Now, Coranabo laughed. "I never knew a Shipbrook to be so direct,
|
||
Lady Myrande."
|
||
"You forget, Baron," Luthias defended her lightly and teased her
|
||
simultaneously, "she grew up here in Connall."
|
||
"And you were always a blunt lot," the Baroness chuckled.
|
||
"True enough," Luthias admitted politely. "Now, tell me, Baron,
|
||
why have you come here?"
|
||
"Your brother Roisart would have figured it out, but he was a
|
||
romantic, as I recall," Coranabo laughed, still evasive, still working
|
||
to a climax. "I have come to offer you, Baron Connall, the hand of my
|
||
daughter, Danza."
|
||
Without warning, Myrande's face went white and she nearly dropped
|
||
the sherry bottle. Her legs went weak, and she stumbled, grabbing the
|
||
corner of the table to steady herself.
|
||
Immediately, Luthias noticed a problem. "My God, Sable!" he cried,
|
||
crossing the room to her. He put one hand on her arm, and with the
|
||
other, he took the sherry from her clenched hand.
|
||
"I'm all right," she whispered, but Luthias scowled at the lie.
|
||
"Better sit her down, Luthias," the concerned Baroness advised.
|
||
"She looks like she's about to faint."
|
||
"Yes, come here," Luthias ordered, guiding her to a seat next to
|
||
Danza. Myrande collapsed into the seat. Luthias went to the table,
|
||
poured some brandy into a glass, and brought it to his seneschale.
|
||
"Drink this. Damn it, Sable, I've told you you're working to hard."
|
||
Myrande dumbly held the brandy in her hands. "Here, drink," Danza
|
||
encouraged. Myrande looked at her, saw Danza's eyes for the first
|
||
time. They were--very, very slightly--rimmed with red, but they were
|
||
kind. Myrande swallowed the lump in her throat.
|
||
"Come on, Sable," Luthias encouraged, placing a hand on her
|
||
shoulder. "Drink."
|
||
Myrande lifted the glass and gulped the brandy. After a moment,
|
||
she coughed and said, "Forgive me. I didn't mean to interrupt."
|
||
"Think nothing of it, Lady Myrande," Coranabo reassured her. He
|
||
looked at her with hard, glittering eyes, but he seemed kind. "No harm
|
||
done. I hope you're all right." Myrande nodded. Then Coranabo shifted
|
||
his attention to the Baron behind her. "Do you need me to repeat what
|
||
I said, Luthias?"
|
||
Luthias crossed in front of Myrande and went back to the table,
|
||
where he poured Danza's drink and his own. "No, Baron, I heard it. I
|
||
admit," Luthias continued with a hard smile wreathed in confusion,
|
||
"that I'm stunned." Luthias looked at Danza. "Lady Danza, I had no
|
||
idea that you favored me."
|
||
"Oh, she does," Coranabo quickly answered for his daughter. He
|
||
leaned back in his chair, smiling with satisfaction. "And I admit
|
||
there's no man in Dargon whom I'd rather have for a son-in-law."
|
||
Luthias seemed slightly confused, and his face told Myrande that
|
||
something didn't seem right to the young Baron. Myrande couldn't blame
|
||
him. Loud alarms were ringing in her mind, too. But Luthias only said,
|
||
"Thank you, Baron. But I don't know what to say."
|
||
"Well, think about it, Luthias," Coranabo offered. "Sleep on it.
|
||
Let me know."
|
||
"I will," Luthias promised. He went back to the table, poured
|
||
Danza's sherry and his own brandy. He and Coranabo began discussing
|
||
the rumors of Bichanese attack, but Myrande didn't hear a word.
|
||
|
||
Myrande remained up and about long after the Baron of Coranabo,
|
||
his wife, and his daughter went to bed. There were preparations to be
|
||
made for tomorrow, and it was her job to see to them.
|
||
Around midnight, a courier arrived at the keep with a message for
|
||
Baron Luthias Connall. Myrande took the message and ordered food and
|
||
bed for the tired man. She then went to the study--if she knew
|
||
Luthias, he was still awake and reading--to give him the message.
|
||
She was right; the light still burned. Myrande knocked on the
|
||
doorframe. "Luthias," she called softly.
|
||
"Come in, Sable," he invited. She did. The Baron sat behind his
|
||
desk, very serious. Luthias tiredly smiled. "What is it?"
|
||
Myrande offered the sealed parchment. "Message for you. The
|
||
messenger just arrived."
|
||
Luthias took the paper, began to open it. "Have the man fed and
|
||
provided with--" The young Baron looked from the paper to Myrande's
|
||
half-smiling face. "But you've already taken care of that, haven't
|
||
you." Luthias chuckled softly. "I'm sorry, Sable. I should know
|
||
better." He looked at the parchment and read the message once, twice.
|
||
"I wonder what this is all about."
|
||
"What is it?"
|
||
"Clifton wants me to come and see him, as soon as possible,"
|
||
Luthias told her, showing her the parchment.
|
||
Myrande read it. "I wonder what the Duke wants."
|
||
Luthias shook his head, re-read the message. "No telling. I'll
|
||
have to go to Dargon tomorrow." Luthias set the paper on his desk. "I
|
||
want you to come with me. The castle can survive a few days on its
|
||
own, and if nothing else, I've seen tonight that you need a break." He
|
||
took a deep breath. "And some help. I've thought about it, and
|
||
tomorrow, I'm going to tell Coranabo that I'll marry Danza."
|
||
Myrande hurriedly sat down in the nearest chair. "Why?"
|
||
Luthias looked her in the eye. "This barony needs a baroness,
|
||
Myrande. You're doing too much, I'm doing to much. We're going to kill
|
||
ourselves if we go on like this."
|
||
Yes, that was Luthias, always practical. "Do you think a girl that
|
||
young can handle being a baroness?" Myrande asked.
|
||
"Of course. She's been trained to it since birth," Luthias argued
|
||
confidently. "She'll make a good baroness."
|
||
"Are you sure about this, Luthias?" Myrande asked gently.
|
||
"I told you, we need help, Sable."
|
||
"We could hire help, Luthias. Do you actually want to marry her?"
|
||
Luthias leaned back and appeared to think about it. "It might as
|
||
well be Danza as anyone else," the Baron sighed with resignation.
|
||
"I'll have to marry sometime, Sable. There has to be a Baroness, and,
|
||
eventually, when Danza is less delicate, I do want to have a son." He
|
||
smiled. "And name him Roisart."
|
||
"Wouldn't you rather marry a woman you loved?"
|
||
Luthias shrugged. "There have only been four people in my life
|
||
that I've ever loved, Sable. My father, my cousin, my brother--"
|
||
"And some lady who jilted you?" Myrande prompted, incredulous.
|
||
Luthias smiled, reached across the desk and took her hand. "No,
|
||
Sable, you. You're my best friend, other than Clifton, and always have
|
||
been." He sighed again. "But there has to be a baroness eventually,
|
||
whether I love her or not, and we both need help, Sable, face it. I
|
||
don't want to see you work yourself to death."
|
||
"Luthias," Myrande ordered sternly, "don't do this for me. I don't
|
||
want you to marry and be miserable for my sake."
|
||
"Hey," Connall said gently, squeezing Myrande's hand. "I won't be
|
||
miserable, I promise." She bitterly smiled at the vow. "It's just what
|
||
I need, Sable, what this place needs." He peered at her intently.
|
||
"You're not jealous, are you?"
|
||
"Of course not," she said.
|
||
"No, I forgot, you're in love with the mysterious stranger,"
|
||
Luthias recalled, his tone a cross between amusement and sarcasm.
|
||
"Look, Sable," he began, serious this time, "I'll go to him, try to
|
||
arrange the marriage for you--"
|
||
"No--no, Luthias. You'd feel too awkward--he's--" Myrande paused.
|
||
"You're too close, and you wouldn't want to try to convince him--"
|
||
Luthias released her hand. "It is Clifton, then."
|
||
Myrande shook her head. "No, Luthias. I give you my word, I'm not
|
||
in love with Clifton Dargon." She leaned her head on her hand. "Not
|
||
even your father, when I told him about this, wanted to arrange a
|
||
marriage. He wanted to wait until the man was older, to see if
|
||
something developed..."
|
||
Luthias laughed. "I loved my father dearly, but he was a romantic,
|
||
just like Roisart. Very few people love like my father and mother. And
|
||
as for me--I'll never fall in love. I'm not built for it, I think."
|
||
Myrande smiled. "I'll just marry Danza and be reasonably content."
|
||
"Do what you think best," Myrande rose. "Good night, Luthias."
|
||
"Going to bed?" he wondered, taking out Fernusius Cai's treatise.
|
||
"Not yet. There's work to be done." Abruptly, she left the room.
|
||
Myrande couldn't believe it. He was going to marry that child and
|
||
make her Baroness of Connall. Would Danza want him, Myrande wondered,
|
||
if Roisart were alive and Baron and Luthias were merely Roisart's
|
||
castellan or the Duke's? Myrande thought not. In fact, Myrande had
|
||
heard rumors six weeks ago about Lady Danza and Tylane Shipbrook. And
|
||
now that Luthias was Baron, this Danza was wiling to abandon Tylane
|
||
like a plague carrier!
|
||
And as for her being a 'good' Baroness--Myrande thought it was
|
||
unlikely and scowled. Danza was only fifteen, a child! How would she
|
||
handle some of the crises around here? She hadn't handled Roisart's
|
||
death well--Myrande remembered her sobbing hysterically when she
|
||
arrived in Dargon in the middle of the night--
|
||
And suddenly, Myrande was back in that nightmare night, that night
|
||
of horrors, when soldiers came to Connall keep. We're here to arrest
|
||
Manus the Healer, they told Myrande. Why? Oh, well, there's a
|
||
conspiracy against the Duke and the Lords of Connall. There was an
|
||
assassination attempt tonight. No, no, lady, the Duke's fine. The twin
|
||
lords? No, lady, sorry, they're dead.
|
||
Luthias dead? Roisart, his twin, her friend, dead too? Was there
|
||
no comfort? Pale, she rode with the squadron to Dargon keep. If
|
||
nothing else, she would see that Luthias, and Roisart, would be well
|
||
buried. She clutched the leather reins all the way to the town. The
|
||
stars glittered coldly, and she wondered if Luthias' soul and
|
||
Roisart's were among them.
|
||
Oh, gods, Luthias dead, and Roisart dead beside him! Myrande was
|
||
unsure that she could bear it.
|
||
When she arrived at the keep, she demanded immediately to see the
|
||
Duke. She was ushered to the blue ballroom on the ground floor. The
|
||
door was opened for her, and she saw Roisart's body laid out in state.
|
||
The Duke was there, talking with Lord Coranabo, she recalled, and
|
||
little lady Danza, who had hardly known Roisart at all, was sobbing
|
||
like a babe on her father's arm. Myrande stood tall and straight,
|
||
though pale, and walked toward the Duke.
|
||
And then Luthias stood up.
|
||
Myrande gasped his name, ran to him, and flung her arms around
|
||
him. Slightly bewildered, but needing comfort, the young Baron put his
|
||
arms around her as well. Myrande felt Luthias' heart beating against
|
||
her shoulder--he was somewhat taller than she--and for a moment, it
|
||
didn't matter that Roisart, her best friend, had been foully murdered.
|
||
She couldn't grieve for Roisart Connall, her brother, the wonderful
|
||
boy who had wanted to marry her. All she could do was clutch Luthias
|
||
close and thank every god she could name that he still lived.
|
||
"They've told you then," Luthias said softly, putting a hand on
|
||
her head and holding her close. "They told you that Roisart is dead."
|
||
For a moment, Myrande lost control completely and sobbed, "They
|
||
told me you both were dead!"
|
||
"Sable, my God, Sable, Roisart's dead, and I'm Baron," Luthias
|
||
rasped. Myrande held him more tightly, knowing that only with her or
|
||
Clifton could Luthias show this much grief--and fear. "I'm Baron, and
|
||
my brother is dead."
|
||
"I'll help you, Luthias, I swear it," Myrande had whispered. And
|
||
she had helped him, she stayed by his side when Roisart was buried,
|
||
and later when he was invested as Baron of Connall. And ever since,
|
||
she had been helping him. Would this baby Danza be able to help him?
|
||
Did she deserve to become a Baroness? Myrande didn't think so.
|
||
She blindly went through the motions of the little work left to be
|
||
done, and then, exhausted, Myrande decided it was time she collapsed
|
||
in bed. As if in a daze, she wandered back to the family wing of the
|
||
keep, past Luthias' study--the lamp was still on, he was still
|
||
reading--to her room.
|
||
Luthias was going to marry a baby he didn't love, a puppy in love
|
||
with him. Bitterly, she laughed softly at herself. As if she had the
|
||
right to condemn Danza for that!
|
||
Suddenly, a blond ghost brushed past her--a blond ghost in a lacy,
|
||
silken nightgown. Myrande stared. Danza. What was she doing up?
|
||
Myrande took a step toward her, but some instinct halted her voice as
|
||
Danza stepped into the study.
|
||
Myrande shrugged at the girl's quick departure and dodged into her
|
||
room. Suddenly, she found herself sobbing. Luthias was going to marry
|
||
Danza, and then-- Luthias was very bright, and he would figure it out
|
||
eventually. And how she would hate to live with his pity!
|
||
Myrande brushed her hands across her eyes quickly and severely
|
||
silenced her own sobs. She would not be able to live with Luthias'
|
||
pity, she knew that. And when Luthias married little Danza, Myrande
|
||
would leave the castle. Perhaps her uncle, the Baron of Shipbrook, or
|
||
Luthias' cousin the Duke would have a position here. Myrande could not
|
||
live in Connall Keep, seeing the pity in Luthias' eyes, seeing the
|
||
pride in Danza's.
|
||
She went to her night table, picked up a hairbrush, undid the long
|
||
braid that hung behind her head, and began to brush her black hair.
|
||
Her hands shook; the nervous fingers made the brush a weapon against
|
||
her, and she accidentally struck her own temple. Myrande dropped the
|
||
brush. This was no good. She'd never be able to sleep like this.
|
||
Myrande rose and left the room. A large goblet of milk would
|
||
comfort her a little, calm her a little, and allow her to sleep. There
|
||
would be much to do tomorrow before she and Luthias left for Dargon.
|
||
She went silently to the kitchen, downed the milk, and began to
|
||
wander back to her room. She smiled sadly as she passed the study; the
|
||
light was still burning. She knocked again. "Luthias?"
|
||
"Sable? Come in. I thought you had gone to bed." Luthias was still
|
||
behind the desk, reading the words of Fernusius Cai. He closed the
|
||
book when Myrande entered the room. "Why haven't you gone to bed yet?"
|
||
Myrande shrugged. "What about you, Lord Luthias?"
|
||
Luthias smiled. "Just reading some. I'll go to bed when you do;
|
||
how's that?"
|
||
"I was on my way," Myrande confessed.
|
||
Luthias kept grinning. He leaned back in his chair. "I'm going to
|
||
refuse the Baron of Coranabo," he announced casually.
|
||
"Why?" Myrande asked, stunned.
|
||
"Danza came to me, told me she was in love with Tylane," Luthias
|
||
revealed. "She marched in here and said very firmly that she had no
|
||
objections to me personally, but she couldn't marry me, that she
|
||
wasn't a virgin, and she did not want to disappoint me."
|
||
"Danza, not a virgin?" Myrande echoed, incredulous.
|
||
Luthias grinned. "That's what she said. It took me a little while
|
||
to get the real reason out of her--that she loved Tylane and wanted to
|
||
marry him. And what could I say, Sable? If we married, she'd resent me
|
||
all her days and we'd both be miserable. And you'd hurt, Sable, to see
|
||
me hurting." Luthias leaned toward Myrande again, looked at her
|
||
lazily. "So, it's off, and I'll marry someone else someday, Sable, but
|
||
until then, we will have a lot of work, the two of us."
|
||
"I don't mind," Myrande told him. She smiled and leaned forward.
|
||
"I'd rather exhaust myself than see you miserable, Luthias." Myrande
|
||
shook her head. "She must have been pretty desperate to tell that she
|
||
wasn't a virgin. Not many girls her age would admit that. But would
|
||
you refuse a girl on those grounds?"
|
||
Luthias shrugged. "No. I'm not a virgin; why should she be? I
|
||
actually don't want to marry a virgin. I don't want my bride to be
|
||
terrified on our wedding night."
|
||
Myrande laughed. "I know it is all very practical, Luthias, but
|
||
somehow you sound more romantic than Roisart."
|
||
Luthias laughed too. He rose and crossed to her. "We should be
|
||
getting to bed, lady Seneschale. We have a long journey tomorrow." He
|
||
put her hands on her shoulders and began to rub them gently.
|
||
"Mmm," said the seneschale, closing her eyes tiredly. "You
|
||
shouldn't do that, Luthias."
|
||
"Why not? You take care of me," Luthias argued. He fell silent
|
||
then, kept rubbing. Then he asked, "Sable, don't answer, if you don't
|
||
want to." Myrande relaxed beneath his touch. "Are *you* still a
|
||
virgin?"
|
||
Myrande answered, not opening her eyes, "Yes. That surprises you?"
|
||
"Yes," Luthias admitted frankly. "You're almost twenty-one- -"
|
||
"And you and Roisart had a habit of scaring my suitors away. They
|
||
all thought either that I've been promised to one of you or that you
|
||
were going to destroy them if they touched me."
|
||
Luthias shook his head. "I hope you've been kissed, at least."
|
||
"Yes, I've been kissed. You and Roisart didn't start scaring men
|
||
away until I was seventeen or so, and by then I was in love with--and
|
||
I don't think you could scare--him--away."
|
||
"Sorry, it was a silly question," Luthias mused. "Roisart must
|
||
have kissed you when he proposed."
|
||
"Only my cheek."
|
||
"No wonder he never got anywhere with girls!" Luthias laughed,
|
||
squeezed Myrande's shoulders one last time. "Come on, Sable, I'll walk
|
||
you to your room. We both could use some sleep."
|
||
Myrande rose, and Luthias turned down the lamp. Exiting the room,
|
||
he put his arm around Myrande's shoulders in a casual way, and she
|
||
leaned on him a little. Silently, they walked down the hall.
|
||
They soon arrived at her door, and Myrande opened it. She then
|
||
turned to her Baron and touched his cheek. "Good night, Luthias."
|
||
"Good night," answered the young Baron. "And, Sable?" She looked
|
||
up at him. Suddenly, Luthias leaned forward and kissed her lips
|
||
quickly. "That is from Roisart, because he was too stupid to do it
|
||
when he had the chance." Luthias kissed her again, longer and more
|
||
firmly this time. "That is from me. Good night, Sable."
|
||
Myrande smiled at him and said, "Good night."
|
||
-M. Wendy Hennequin <HENNEQUI@CTSTATEU>
|
||
|
||
<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>
|
||
|
||
A Bride for Dargon
|
||
The young Lord of Dargon sat unquietly behind his large oaken desk
|
||
and stared through the arms of his family which adorned the walls of
|
||
his receiving room. His forebears had been men of decision and action,
|
||
reknowned for timely justice and intelligence, yet Duke Clifton Dargon
|
||
had reached an impasse and wished that his ancestors had left some
|
||
indication in their writings of how his current predicament could be
|
||
resolved. Yet again, he stood and strode to the tall, open window
|
||
which overlooked the courtyard, the city, and the surrounding fields.
|
||
Though his mind wandered, his eyes followed a young man in a grey
|
||
tunic as he left the market. The nobleman wondered what business this
|
||
man might have in Dargon, what concerns he might have, and what he
|
||
might do if he faced Clifton's problems and responsibilities. The man
|
||
turned off Merchant's Way and strode unhurriedly through the part of
|
||
town that contained several of the inns that catered to people from
|
||
away. As he continued, a woman in a bright blue shirt and gauzy white
|
||
pants came up to him. She fawned on him for several moments before she
|
||
turned him back the way he had come and disappeared from sight in a
|
||
cross-alley. Clifton smiled secretly and sighed a heavy sigh.
|
||
Clifton was surprised by the clearing of a throat behind him, and
|
||
turned suddenly to look angrily at his cousin, the young Baron of
|
||
Connall, as he strode into the office. Realizing that it was Luthias
|
||
and not one of his annoying advisors, Dargon calmed a little, but his
|
||
irritation remained unquenched like a vicious undertow beneath the
|
||
deep brown eyes.
|
||
Luthias, attractive, strong, and manly for his twenty-one years,
|
||
stood out of respect for his lord, yet his stance emanated the ease of
|
||
standing before a man loved and understood as well as respected.
|
||
Clifton gazed upon his cousin's face, so similar to his own, with
|
||
equal respect. Since the assassinations of Luthias' father and twin
|
||
brother, Luthias had grown considerably. At one time, the Baron of
|
||
Connall was known for quick action and thought which could
|
||
occasionally border on rashness. But since his brother's death in the
|
||
attempt to save the lives of Luthias and Dargon, Luthias had become
|
||
more thoughtful, as if the twins' soul, divided at birth, was reunited
|
||
at last through death. Luthias' ability for quick, practical
|
||
decisions, like his grief for father and brother, had not left him;
|
||
the quickness and pragmatism now mingled occasionally with the grave
|
||
caution of his brother, just as the blue bands of mourning still
|
||
lingered on the everyday clothing. There were a few days when Clifton,
|
||
Lord Dargon, had worried that the grief and the responsibility of the
|
||
barony would turn the streaks of auburn in Luthias' brown hair to a
|
||
premature gray, but the young baron had quickly and manfully accepted
|
||
grief and responsibility both. A smile fluttered across Dargon's lips.
|
||
Luthias was making his cousin and liege very proud.
|
||
"You wanted to see me, Clifton?" Luthias prompted finally.
|
||
Clifton returned from the quick current of his thoughts and looked
|
||
his cousin in the eyes again. There was pain in them still. It must be
|
||
difficult, Clifton thought, for him to look at me, or even at himself,
|
||
and yet see only his brother. And still I see Roisart in him.
|
||
After a moment, Clifton replied, "Yes, Luthias. Please sit down."
|
||
Perplexed at the anger on the face of his lord and kinsman,
|
||
Luthias obeyed. Once seated, he wondered aloud, unafraid of the
|
||
answer, "Have I done something, Clifton?"
|
||
"No, Luthias, no," Dargon assured him, brushing the idea away with
|
||
a flick of the hand. "I need to talk to you. You and Roisart were
|
||
always good at calming me down."
|
||
"I'm only half as good as we used to be," Luthias quipped, jesting
|
||
lightly at his own grief. "But I'll listen. What's wrong?"
|
||
Lord Clifton Dargon scowled with immeasurable wrath. "They're
|
||
after me again!"
|
||
Luthias went white, missing the subtle twinkle of irony in
|
||
Clifton's brown eyes. "God, no. Not another plot against us!"
|
||
"What? Oh, no," Clifton told him quickly. "No, they aren't trying
|
||
to murder us." He scowled again. "But that would top my day nicely!"
|
||
"What's wrong, then?"
|
||
"My counselors," Clifton explained. "They are plaguing me yet
|
||
again... They want me to marry!"
|
||
Luthias almost laughed. The concept didn't seem so terrible. "Is
|
||
that all?" he asked lightly.
|
||
"Is that all?" thundered the Lord of Dargon, rising from his
|
||
chair, then pacing behind the desk. "Is that ALL?"
|
||
"Marriage hardly seems a vile fate, Clifton," Luthias vainly tried
|
||
to calm him. "I know many who have survived..."
|
||
"I don't see you running out and marrying," Dargon accused,
|
||
whirling on his bewildered cousin.
|
||
Luthias' mouth went tight and his eyes narrowed with seriousness.
|
||
"Yesterday the Baron of Coranabo offered his daughter to me, Clifton,"
|
||
he snapped. "I need a baroness, and I would have married her if she
|
||
wasn't in love with Tylane Shipbrook."
|
||
"Well, how would you feel being pushed into it?" the Lord of
|
||
Dargon demanded.
|
||
Luthias stared at his cousin a moment. It wasn't like him to be
|
||
this angry, he thought suddenly. "It isn't just your advisors,"
|
||
Luthias concluded aloud. "What is it, Clifton? What's bothering you?"
|
||
Dargon gazed suddenly at his cousin, and just as suddenly, his
|
||
anger defused. He sighed, trying to calm his confused emotions. "Sit,
|
||
Luthias," invited the Lord of Dargon wearily. "I need to talk to you."
|
||
Luthias obeyed slowly, not taking his eyes off his cousin. "Talk,
|
||
then, Clifton. What is it?"
|
||
Again, the Lord of Dargon sighed. He sat silent for a few moments,
|
||
then spoke. "I was telling the truth," he ventured, as if he were half
|
||
talking to himself. "It is my advisors. They want me to marry. They
|
||
want me to have an heir." The lord scowled. "It doesn't befit women to
|
||
be treated as mere heir machines, and I will not marry a woman merely
|
||
to provide one."
|
||
"I agree," Luthias replied gravely. "But there's more," he knew.
|
||
Almost sadly, Dargon nodded. "I don't want to get married," he
|
||
told his cousin. "I don't want to marry just anyone. I want to marry a
|
||
woman that I could love."
|
||
"Don't you think you will find a woman to love, Clifton?" Luthias
|
||
questioned carefully.
|
||
"That's the problem, cousin," sighed Clifton Dargon. "I already
|
||
have. And I already love her."
|
||
This took Luthias quite by surprise; for a moment he simply stared
|
||
uncomprehendingly at his noble cousin. In the next moment, Luthias,
|
||
Baron of Connall, almost lost his temper. "Problem? What IS the
|
||
problem? You have found her. You love her. You're the Duke around
|
||
here, Clifton. You can marry anyone you like. Clifton, there is no
|
||
problem." Another thought slapped Luthias smartly. "Gods, Clifton, you
|
||
haven't fallen in love with a married woman, have you?"
|
||
Dargon looked at his young cousin once again and laughed softly.
|
||
"Married? No, she isn't married. Quite the contrary. By most
|
||
standards, she is what the people would judge an old maid." His eyes
|
||
clouded as he let the memory of her wash over him. "Though she's by no
|
||
means old, and the man who would not choose her is blind."
|
||
At this romantic turn in his cousin's nature (which Luthias had
|
||
never before witnessed) the Baron of Connall asked meekly, but with
|
||
amusement, "Do I know this lucky woman, Clifton?"
|
||
The mist in the eyes of the Lord of Dargon cleared. He looked
|
||
directly into Luthias' eyes. "I believe you do," Dargon told him. "You
|
||
met her at the Melrin ball. Lady Lauren, the Winthrops' cousin. The
|
||
one from Magnus."
|
||
The Baron of Connall pondered a moment, and then the recollection
|
||
shone on his face like a beam of sunshine. "Oh, yes, the dark-haired
|
||
one with the greenish eyes--"
|
||
"Her eyes are blue," Clifton corrected. "Perhaps a little green,"
|
||
he reconsidered. "Blue and green, like the sea," he mused.
|
||
"The one in the white gown," continued young Luthias. "The one my
|
||
brother liked." Again, Luthias considered the matter. "That woman
|
||
isn't married? But she's--beautiful. And charming. And educated.
|
||
Clifton, what's wrong with her?"
|
||
The Lord of Dargon leapt to his feet. "Wrong with her?" echoed the
|
||
Lord of Dargon in a most undignified manner. "Nothing's wrong with
|
||
her." He smiled affectionately--like a man in love, thought Luthias.
|
||
Clearly, his emotions were confused enough for it to be love. "She's
|
||
perfect." Dargon began to pace yet again. "It's her father. He will
|
||
not give her up."
|
||
"Why not?"
|
||
"Did you meet her father, Luthias?" Luthias thought a moment, then
|
||
shook his head. "His name's Marcellon, and he's a very powerful mage.
|
||
He was trained in Magnus by the great Styles himself." Having heard
|
||
his late brother prattle on about Styles, wizard to Beinison Emperors,
|
||
Luthias was suitably impressed. "Marcellon was wizard to the King of
|
||
Baranur, until he left a few months ago, before the thaw."
|
||
"Before the thaw?" Luthias repeated, incredulous. "Why would
|
||
anyone travel that distance in winter? The conditions--"
|
||
"Were life and death," explained Dargon. He kept on pacing, moving
|
||
back and forth like a pendulum on a clock. "It's a long story, and
|
||
Lauren only told me recently, when I asked her for her hand."
|
||
"Fine thing, to go asking for a woman in marriage and not even
|
||
telling your cousin you're in love until your advisors bother you,"
|
||
Luthias teased.
|
||
"Quiet, manling," Clifton growled good-naturedly, using a term he
|
||
hadn't employed since the twins were in their youth. "I..." The ruler
|
||
of Dargon seated himself. "Our love is so special that I wanted to
|
||
keep it a secret as long as I could. But then, when I asked her..."
|
||
"Why would he deny you, Clifton?" Luthias wondered. "What could he
|
||
object to? You are noble, wealthy, and you are good-natured..."
|
||
"Marcellon trusts no man to treat his daughter well enough,"
|
||
Dargon explained. He made a grim, frustrated face, then continued.
|
||
"Some years ago, Marcellon gave Lauren's sister in marriage to a young
|
||
noble 'of good character'. A few months later, she was beaten to death
|
||
by her husband." Dargon stared at his cousin. "He doesn't want the
|
||
same thing to happen to Lauren."
|
||
"Maybe he just doesn't want the insanity that grips him to run in
|
||
the family," grumbled Luthias. "Clifton, what's the problem? When we
|
||
were growing up, you had a crush on--oh, what was her name? And you
|
||
threatened to carry her off if her father objected to the marriage.
|
||
You make the laws around here. Just throw her over a stallion and run
|
||
off and you're married."
|
||
"And separate her from her father? Lauren loves him dearly, and it
|
||
would break her heart," Dargon objected. "Besides, the marriage would
|
||
be short-lived, cousin. Remember, Marcellon is a powerful wizard, with
|
||
knowledge of the spells of the great Styles himself. He could attack
|
||
me from a distance of hundreds of leagues."
|
||
"Yes, 'Styles' Death', Roisart told me about it."
|
||
"It's not a pretty or an easy death." Luthias shook his head. "And
|
||
while I fear neither death nor Marcellon, I have no wish to die and
|
||
leave the duchy with, if you will forgive me, inexperienced
|
||
leadership." Luthias smiled a little, humbly. "Still, I want no other
|
||
woman but Lauren, and Luthias, I intend to have her," the Lord of
|
||
Dargon finished firmly. Again, he looked his cousin, the Baron of
|
||
Connall, in the eyes. "There is a way, Luthias. I asked for her hand,
|
||
and she told me that her father would be willing, on one condition."
|
||
Luthias shook his head in a disapproving way. "A mage's condition.
|
||
I don't like the sound of this, Clifton." When Dargon didn't continue,
|
||
Connall prompted, "All right, Clifton. What is this condition?"
|
||
"He requires that I pass a test of his choosing."
|
||
"What kind of test?"
|
||
"Lauren didn't say."
|
||
"She didn't tell you anything?"
|
||
Dargon shook his head. "Nothing, cousin. But Lauren told me that
|
||
it can be very dangerous."
|
||
His suspicion leapt from dormancy to dominance. "Dangerous? How?"
|
||
Dargon leaned back in his chair thoughtfully. "I don't know
|
||
exactly. Lauren would not tell me much, either. She said that two men
|
||
from Magnus who took the test died--"
|
||
Luthias nearly leapt from his seat. "Died?! Clifton!"
|
||
Dargon shook his head at Connall. "No, Luthias, it's not what you
|
||
think. One had a crossbow that exploded; one died of a sudden seizure,
|
||
not caused by Marcellon. His purpose is to eliminate those not of
|
||
exemplary character, not to hurt anyone."
|
||
"I still don't like it," Luthias snapped. "I don't trust it. Two
|
||
men have died, Clifton. And how do you know Marcellon did not cause
|
||
it? It certainly sounds odd to me that a mage with that power-- And he
|
||
left Magnus in a hurry, you said, in a matter of life and death.
|
||
Whose? And why? It all seems very suspicious to me, Clifton, and I
|
||
don't want to lose you too!"
|
||
"Luthias, I don't use crossbows," the Lord of Dargon said with
|
||
some amusement. "And I am not subject to seizures." He sighed,
|
||
shifted. "It was a matter of life and death that Lauren and her father
|
||
left Magnus. A matter of their lives or deaths."
|
||
"What, is this Marcellon some sort of criminal?"
|
||
Dargon shook his head. "Marcellon has broken no laws by testing
|
||
his daughter's suitors. But the test got him into trouble. The
|
||
families of the two who died made no protests; they knew that one had
|
||
overestimated his warrior skills and that the other was sickly. But
|
||
healthy young men have taken the test. Six came out alive and
|
||
unharmed, but they couldn't remember a thing about the test." Clifton
|
||
grimaced. "Four went mad."
|
||
"Mad?" Luthias echoed, startled. "But what could make them mad?"
|
||
"No one knows," admitted the Lord of Dargon, "and Marcellon won't
|
||
tell. Families are not pleased when their sons return a raving lunatic
|
||
from courting. And the last suitor was from a very rich and
|
||
influential family--"
|
||
"They were run out of Magnus because some rich, foppish fool took
|
||
the test and went mad?" Luthias interrupted. Dargon nodded. "I'm not
|
||
sure if I like this, Clifton." Luthias paused a moment. "Have you
|
||
presented your suit to her father?"
|
||
"Not yet," Dargon admitted. "I've been invited to dinner tonight.
|
||
I want to ask him then." Dargon made a wrathful face. "Lauren does not
|
||
want me to ask."
|
||
"She doesn't want you?"
|
||
Dargon gave his cousin a quick, sharp look, then calmed. "No, I
|
||
don't think that's it. At least I hope not, Luthias. I wouldn't pursue
|
||
her in that case." A sad, almost grieving look covered Dargon's face.
|
||
"I want to marry her, Luthias. Only her."
|
||
Luthias stared at his cousin's face and saw the truth of it.
|
||
Luthias recognized the expression; it was almost the same expression
|
||
his father had worn when he talked to Luthias and his twin about their
|
||
mother, the only woman their father had ever loved. And who, through
|
||
the birth of Luthias and Roisart, was lost to him forever.
|
||
Luthias stood and walked over to his cousin's desk. He put his
|
||
hand on Dargon's shoulder. Clifton looked up. "Try for her, Clifton,"
|
||
young Luthias advised.
|
||
"That's not like you, Luthias," Dargon returned with gentle
|
||
surprise. "I thought you were the practical one. I could lose my life,
|
||
as you pointed out before, and putting myself in jeopardy for personal
|
||
reasons is not something a ruler should do..." Clifton clearly was
|
||
reluctant to make such a decision.
|
||
"Well, yes," Luthias admitted, almost sheepish --he had told
|
||
Myrande he wasn't built for loving--"but what's life without love?"
|
||
Cheered, Lord Clifton Dargon smiled at his cousin, and left the
|
||
study to dress for dinner.
|
||
|
||
How Luthias had been convinced that he should attend the dinner at
|
||
the Winthrops' he was never certain. For one thing, he didn't feel
|
||
that Clifton really needed a second, or that Marcellon would
|
||
appreciate the fact that Clifton had brought one. And if anything
|
||
happened to Clifton, it might be unseemly for his heir to have been
|
||
the one responsible for his safety. And there was Pecora, little
|
||
Pecora, still mourning over Kite. And only the gods knew how Luthias
|
||
was supposed to act around a great, educated lady and a man trained in
|
||
magic by the great Styles.
|
||
The only thing that was keeping the evening from being completely
|
||
uncomfortable was Sable--Myrande Shipbrook, Luthias' seneschale. Born
|
||
six months after the twins, Myrande had known Luthias, his brother
|
||
Roisart, and Clifton all her life. Her father, who had been castellan
|
||
to Luthias' father until he died five years ago, had been quite a
|
||
valorous man who had been awarded knighthood and arms by Clifton's
|
||
father. Myrande's mother had died days after her father, and at
|
||
fifteen, she became Seneschale of Connall. When Luthias became Baron a
|
||
month or so ago, he had asked her to stay with him, to manage his
|
||
household and to help him run the barony; Myrande was wise for her
|
||
age, and Luthias had always respected her counsel, even when, as a
|
||
boy, he had never heeded it. And now, Myrande was helping him
|
||
again--taking care of the Baron again, Luthias thought ruefully--just
|
||
by being her honest, easy-going self. Luthias sighed, wondering again
|
||
whom Sable loved. The man was a blind fool, not seeing the beauty in
|
||
her black hair and dark eyes nor the beauty of her soul.
|
||
Luthias watched Myrande walk through the garden as Marcellon
|
||
approached him and introduced himself. Luthias found himself surprised
|
||
that he actually had met Marcellon. He had been dressed in red robes
|
||
at the Melrin ball, but now he was dressed in a courtly suit of grey
|
||
and dark blue. As they waited in the Winthrop garden, Marcellon shook
|
||
his hand kindly. "I remember you, Lord Baron," said the mage with
|
||
grave kindness, which surprised Luthias even more. "You danced with
|
||
Pecora, and your brother danced with my Lauren." Marcellon smiled. "It
|
||
was a brave thing your brother did that night."
|
||
Luthias smiled awkwardly. "Braver than I, milord."
|
||
Marcellon lifted his eyebrows. "Would you not have done the same,
|
||
if you had seen the opportunity?" Luthias considered a moment, then
|
||
nodded. "Do not say he was braver, then." Marcellon looked at the
|
||
bench where Lauren and Clifton sat talking. "I know that Lord Dargon
|
||
has come to ask for her." Luthias looked at his shoes. Marcellon
|
||
smiled. "Don't worry, Lord Baron. I do not ask you to betray your
|
||
cousin. But," and the smile grew wider, "I am not a blind man. I have
|
||
seen the way they look at one another, their eyes the secret
|
||
messengers of the hearts. I've seen it before, though," Marcellon
|
||
sighed, and his eyes narrowed. "Although I doubt I've ever seen a man
|
||
so serious about her--or Lauren so serious about any man."
|
||
Luthias did not know how to respond. Clearly, Marcellon was a wise
|
||
and observant man, yet strong in his convictions. The old man smiled.
|
||
"Come, milord Baron. We are expected for dinner," then, toward
|
||
Clifton, "my lord?"
|
||
"In a moment, father," responded Lauren, her blue-green eyes not
|
||
leaving Clifton's.
|
||
The two sat silently and watched as Marcellon and Luthias made
|
||
their way from the garden, then Lauren turned to Clifton and clasped
|
||
his hand strongly. Lauren cast a quick look over her shoulder--Lady
|
||
Myrande was still walking forlornly alone. But Lauren knew--there were
|
||
things she just knew--that she need not fear Myrande. It was well;
|
||
Lauren needed to speak quickly.
|
||
"Clifton, you know it's wrong to put yourself before the duchy..."
|
||
He smiled at her warmly. "Yes, Lauren, I know, but I've spent the
|
||
past days weighing this decision. The duchy needs a direct heir, and I
|
||
want you to be my wife and the mother of our children. Your father's
|
||
test is not meant to harm people, only to determine whether they will
|
||
treat you as you deserve... and, well, I love you, and I think that
|
||
I'd be able to treat you well..." His sentence trailed off; Clifton
|
||
couldn't believe he felt embarrassed.
|
||
"But, Clifton, it could be dangerous! I don't want any harm to
|
||
come to you."
|
||
Clifton shifted on the bench. "But I won't be hurt, Lauren. It
|
||
will turn out for the best. Once this is done we shall be married."
|
||
Lauren wasn't convinced by Clifton's insatiable optimism, and her eyes
|
||
showed her deep concern, equally beyond reason.
|
||
"Clifton... Listen to me. I've heard those very words nearly a
|
||
dozen times. Each time, I watched as they confidently went to ask for
|
||
my hand. Each time I secretly hoped they would succeed, for I truly
|
||
cared for them. And each time I watched as they returned, having
|
||
failed, and I felt their hurt, their shame. Somehow their failure was
|
||
equally my failure, for I had not discouraged them. And, Clifton, I've
|
||
got far too much at stake to let you fail. Can't you see? I couldn't
|
||
stand to see you fail - not for the duchy, but for myself. If you
|
||
failed, it would kill me! I love you, can't you see that? I can't let
|
||
you fail." Lauren paused, anguish in her eyes. "If you were hurt--
|
||
gods, Clifton, if you lost your mind--"
|
||
Impulsively, the Duke of Dargon put his arms around Lauren and
|
||
held her close. "Shhh, love, I'll be fine," he assured her. He kissed
|
||
her gently.
|
||
They sat quietly as a gentle breeze moved the trees above them.
|
||
Finally, Clifton said, "I Lauren, I must try. You know the saying as
|
||
well as I, 'Nothing risked, nothing gained'. You cannot achieve
|
||
anything if you aren't willing to put what you have at the outset at
|
||
risk. And a man isn't a man if he stops achieving better things for
|
||
himself and those he loves. So, you see, I have to do this... It's the
|
||
right thing, believe me. I love you, and I don't want to live without
|
||
you, and if I don't try, I'll fail you, and myself."
|
||
Lauren reluctantly accepted Clifton's words. "I love you too,
|
||
Clifton. And I don't think I'd love you as much if you weren't willing
|
||
to do this. But remember, you're risking far more than yourself;
|
||
you're putting the duchy and everyone in it at risk, and me. I pray
|
||
you do not falter...if you did fail, I hate to think of your cousin."
|
||
She gazed at Luthias, who was standing on a patio, watching Myrande
|
||
and speaking with Marcellon. "He's lost his father and brother; could
|
||
he lose you too, and be a Duke? Clifton, he's only twenty-one."
|
||
"I know; believe me. But," and Clifton smiled, "my love, it was
|
||
Luthias, practical, sensible Luthias, who convinced me to do this.
|
||
It'll be all right," he assured her, kissing her again.
|
||
There was a sudden crash behind them. "Clod!" Luthias called with
|
||
teasing familiarity.
|
||
"Luthias?" Myrande called, rising to her feet. "Just twisted an
|
||
ankle," she answered Clifton's questioning glance. "Luthias, come
|
||
here, please. I need you."
|
||
Luthias moved toward her. Lauren smiled and said softly, so only
|
||
Clifton would hear, "He hears the words, but misses the message." At
|
||
the Duke's confusion, Lauren asked, "Didn't you know that Lady Myrande
|
||
is in love with your cousin?"
|
||
"Of course. My uncle Fionn, Luthias' father, told me some years
|
||
ago when he asked Myrande whom she wished to wed. How did you know?"
|
||
Lauren shrugged. "I just know."
|
||
"You're changing the subject," Clifton accused with amused
|
||
severity. "You still don't want me to do this?"
|
||
Lauren looked pained. "Clifton, I want to marry you. I love you
|
||
more than any other man in the world. I can't bear it if I lost you."
|
||
"Then there's nothing more to do than try," Clifton said firmly.
|
||
He helped to her feet. "Now, come, let's catch up with the others."
|
||
|
||
Clifton and Luthias were set opposite Marcellon and Lauren. At one
|
||
end of the table sat Lady and Lord Winthrop, an interesting couple who
|
||
probably would have felt more comfortable with Clifton's father, but
|
||
they managed to keep an incessant chatter alive at the table. At the
|
||
other end sat the two women: Pecora and Sable. Pecora was the daughter
|
||
of the Winthrop's, a dark-haired woman with whom both Clifton and
|
||
Luthias had shared their childhood, and whom had been through so much
|
||
recently. Sable, or Lady Myrande as she was called by everyone except
|
||
Luthias and occasionally Clifton, was certainly the more beautiful of
|
||
the two, a dark beauty, the Belle of Connall, as some had called her
|
||
before she had become seneschale and stopped going to balls. Luthias
|
||
smiled. It was long held a rumor that Myrande Shipbrook had been
|
||
promised to one of the twin lords of Connall.
|
||
Luthias noted that Clifton was in a serious mood, and understood
|
||
why, but it made the conversation drag. Although everyone in the room
|
||
were old friends, there was an air of awkwardness in the room. The
|
||
group had gone through a lot in the past few months. Pecora had taken
|
||
ill and then Kite had disappeared mysteriously. People also avoided
|
||
talking about Luthias' brother and father, as well (he wished they
|
||
wouldn't avoid them; part of Luthias needed to know that he wasn't the
|
||
only person who remembered or missed Roisart and his father). And
|
||
there was Clifton and Lauren, and surely everyone present knew about
|
||
Clifton's intent. Only Sable seemed at ease, Luthias noted. He smiled.
|
||
Sometimes he thought she was the only thing that kept him sane.
|
||
The feast ended. Luthias was relieved when his cousin finally
|
||
broached the subject of his suit to Marcellon.
|
||
"Lord Marcellon, your daughter and I have spoken at length. We
|
||
wish to be married. I ask for your blessing." Luthias was impressed;
|
||
Clifton's tone was that of a request bordering on a demand.
|
||
Marcellon's face betrayed nothing of what the man was thinking,
|
||
but he replied, choosing his words carefully, "My daughter has told
|
||
you of my whim?"
|
||
"Yes, milord."
|
||
"And you wish to prove yourself worthy of her in my eyes?"
|
||
"Yes, sir," Clifton replied firmly. Lauren closed her eyes.
|
||
Myrande saw the grief in Lauren's face, but could do nothing. Clifton
|
||
saw it, and touched her hand beneath the table.
|
||
"Very well," Marcellon agreed. "You will be provided with
|
||
everything necessary to prove yourself. When do you wish to begin?"
|
||
Clifton had committed himself now, and Luthias knew it. Clifton
|
||
gazed across the table at his cousin. If he failed--if he died, or
|
||
lost his mind--this man, this young man, would become the Duke of
|
||
Dargon. Luthias knew this, saw the concern in his cousin's eyes.
|
||
He's asking my consent for this, Luthias thought. As if he needed
|
||
it. Luthias nodded to his cousin, and heard the words he had used this
|
||
afternoon: Try for her.
|
||
"If it is possible, this evening," Clifton requested.
|
||
"Very well." Then, turning to Lord Winthrop, his brother-in-law,
|
||
"With your permission, shall we adjourn to the sitting room?" The host
|
||
nodded, and the group rose. Clifton, Marcellon and Lord Winthrop led
|
||
silently, with Lauren hanging uncertainly near Clifton and the others
|
||
behind, secretly exchanging concerned expressions. They reached the
|
||
sitting room far too quickly for Luthias' comfort.
|
||
Myrande squeezed his arm. "It's all right, Luthias."
|
||
The old mystic motioned for Clifton to sit facing him. "You shall
|
||
be facing great peril, though the purpose of this test is not to prove
|
||
your prowess at arms or to harm you. You choose any weapon or armor
|
||
you desire. What do you wish?"
|
||
Luthias could see Clifton's mind racing, and could also see the
|
||
unquiet expression he bore. "Are arms and armor necessary to succeed?"
|
||
Marcellon's brow rose in curiosity. "They are not."
|
||
"Then I shall bear neither."
|
||
"As you wish. In a moment, I shall ask you to submit to my will,
|
||
and to allow me to penetrate your self. This will not be painful, but
|
||
you must concentrate upon opening yourself to me. I shall create the
|
||
test within your mind as an illusion. You will find yourself in a
|
||
corridor. You will find an object of beauty, and you need retrieve it,
|
||
and I shall bring you back to this room. Are you prepared?"
|
||
The Duke of Dargon took and released one large breath before
|
||
replying. "I am."
|
||
|
||
Clifton shared a final glance with Lauren, which dispelled any
|
||
doubts left within him, although her face was filled with fear. He
|
||
nodded to Marcellon, and closed his eyes. He had no formal training in
|
||
wizardry, but there were books in the ducal library and in the college
|
||
at Magnus which had discussed it. He envisioned a door in his chest
|
||
and willed it open, feeling the vulnerability and insecurity beneath
|
||
his outward strength and resolution. He kept his mind from wandering
|
||
and concentrated upon it.
|
||
He suddenly knew that Marcellon was within him; not within his
|
||
body, but within his mind. Startled at the alien feeling, Clifton
|
||
opened his eyes, but still saw nothing. Suddenly, as if he had been
|
||
thrown into a pond, there was another person within him. His eyes
|
||
could see, but what they saw was definitely strange. He was sitting
|
||
with several other people in a small circle at the edge of a field,
|
||
eating something that looked very much like worms in red mud. Around
|
||
them stood several canvas shelters which stood of their own accord.
|
||
One of the people near him, a dark-haired woman in a revealing white
|
||
tunic, turned suddenly toward him and spoke.
|
||
"Well, I think you look more like Luthias than Clifton..."
|
||
As he went to speak, he felt his lips moving, yet the words that
|
||
he spoke were not his own. "Well, of course, everyone will have
|
||
different pictures of what's been written about, like the climate.
|
||
I've always pictured Dargon as being like Maine, but other people will
|
||
have different ideas..."
|
||
Clifton thought he felt the third person leave his mind as his
|
||
eyes drained; then he lost consciousness.
|
||
|
||
Clifton awoke in a grey stone passageway, lit by an occasional
|
||
sconce. To either side the corridor continued perhaps 30 paces before
|
||
ending, a door at each end. Clifton waited several moments to be sure
|
||
that his head was clear, then walked down the passageway to his left.
|
||
He stopped before the large wooden door, his conversation with
|
||
Marcellon going through his mind once more. The test was to bring back
|
||
something of beauty. Clifton gathered himself and opened the door.
|
||
Any semblance of secrecy he had desired was shattered by the
|
||
protest of the seemingly ancient door. That decided, Clifton swung the
|
||
door more forcibly open and strode into the huge room beyond. What he
|
||
saw was enough to make him take several steps backward. The room was
|
||
dominated by a large grayish mound surrounded by hundreds of huge,
|
||
black insects. They were built like wasps, but each was the size of a
|
||
small dog. The noise of the door had created a commotion, and the air
|
||
about the nest was full of the insects. Clifton watched in horror as a
|
||
single insect, larger than the others, emerged from the nest and rose
|
||
to the air. The other insects flocked to follow it as it led the way
|
||
toward the intruder.
|
||
Clifton, of course, knew what he faced. There was a story which
|
||
parents would tell their children about such insects. It would
|
||
normally scare the children enough to keep them from playing with
|
||
hornet and wasp nests and getting hurt. Clifton, as a child, had even
|
||
told the story to his cousins, Luthias and Roisart, and Myrande, when
|
||
he was the lordly age of twelve, and they were but six and five. The
|
||
Wasp-King cruelly ruled all flying insects by terror. His temper was
|
||
swift and his bite death. His greatest treasures was his colony, and
|
||
the colony's greatest treasure was a flower which it kept preserved
|
||
inside the hive.
|
||
Clifton knew that the flower was to be the object of his test, and
|
||
his heart sank. He had always held a secret fear of flying insects,
|
||
and his fear now was maddening. The Wasp-King arrived and dropped to
|
||
the ground less than an arm-length before him as his comrades circled
|
||
above. The thing, for Clifton could not call it a beast, twitched and
|
||
turned, its antennae brushing Clifton, who dared not move. Suddenly,
|
||
he heard the thing speaking within his mind; the absolute alienness of
|
||
the thing inside his head threw him violently to the ground. A
|
||
thousand voices echoed, "WHY DOES IT INVADE US?"
|
||
The assault ended, and Clifton rose to his hands and spoke. "I
|
||
have been sent... I have need of your flower, your treasure." Clifton
|
||
dared not raise his head to look at the abomination. He steeled
|
||
himself for another assault.
|
||
"WHY DOES IT NEED OUR TREASURE-FLOWER?"
|
||
"I wish to marry a woman of my race. It will only be permitted if
|
||
I bring back the flower."
|
||
"IT MAY NOT HAVE THE TREASURE-FLOWER."
|
||
Clifton felt enraged for a moment, and it blocked out his fear.
|
||
For a wild moment, he wanted to attack the Wasp-King, splatter its
|
||
brains on the floor. But better sense prevailed; he was unarmed, and
|
||
even if he had a legendary sword, he could not succeed against the
|
||
wasp horde. Besides, he bore them no ill. He thought of Lauren, and
|
||
spoke again.
|
||
"I again ask you for your treasure-flower. I will not be able to
|
||
marry the woman without it."
|
||
The sea of emotionless voices returned unmercifully. "IT IS NOT OF
|
||
US; WE DO NOT CARE. MANY ITS HAVE INVADED US AND ATTACKED OUR HIVE;
|
||
WHY? THIS IT DOES NOT ATTACK; IT SPEAKS. WHY?"
|
||
Clifton knew no way to explain why other humans had come and why
|
||
they had acted differently. "The others were renegades." Well, it
|
||
wasn't quite accurate, but maybe they'd understand the basic gist. "I
|
||
speak because I am wiser, and have no need to attack, for I mean you
|
||
no harm. I only come for the treasure-flower."
|
||
"IT MEANS US NO HARM? THE OTHER ITS HAVE INVADED US AND ATTACKED
|
||
US WITH BLADES. THIS IT WILL DO THE SAME."
|
||
"No, I mean no harm," Clifton repeated. A thought struck him. "If
|
||
I can have the flower, I will leave, and I will insure that no other
|
||
'its' will come to attack you."
|
||
The thing buzzed and twitched, and Clifton breathed deeply, still
|
||
on his hands and knees. At least he wasn't in imminent danger. The
|
||
legend had said nothing about the things being able to talk, and that
|
||
was the most painful part of the ordeal. Then the voices returned.
|
||
"IT MAY HAVE THE TREASURE-FLOWER, BUT IT MUST PROVE IT IS NOT
|
||
RENEGADE. IT MUST GO AMONG US AND GET TREASURE-FLOWER."
|
||
Clifton didn't quite understand the words, but his contact with
|
||
the thing told him that the flower would be just within the hive. The
|
||
Wasp-King rose into the air as Clifton stumbled to his feet.
|
||
The distance was less than 30 paces, but it took Clifton several
|
||
minutes. The insects were all around him, and he stumbled blindly
|
||
toward the hive. He closed his eyes and put his hands over his ears,
|
||
but he couldn't block out their feelers or their wings, which were
|
||
constantly around him. He couldn't block out the droning of their
|
||
wings, or the memory of their eyes. Nor their insane presense in his
|
||
mind. It took all his will to keep from running, but he knew that if
|
||
he did, they would flock to attack him, stinging him repeatedly. He
|
||
struggled onward, until he reached the papery hive entry, which stood
|
||
about half his height. He rolled onto his back and stuck his head and
|
||
arms underneath the opening and felt above the entry. Finally coming
|
||
upon what seemed to be a large flower, he carefully removed it from
|
||
the wall and struggled out.
|
||
He opened his eyes only long enough to be sure that he had the
|
||
flower, and began walking slowly back toward the doorway. The insects
|
||
slowly dispersed, and he finally stumbled the last few steps to the
|
||
doorway. There had never been a sound so delightful to Clifton as the
|
||
complaint of the iron-shod oak and the satisfying boom of it as it met
|
||
the jam. Exhausted, Clifton sank to the floor, propped his back
|
||
against the door, and slept.
|
||
|
||
Luthias began to wonder why someone hadn't asked Marcellon how
|
||
long this thing would last. It had been several minutes, but no one
|
||
had dared to leave the room, least of all Luthias, with Sable at his
|
||
side, and Lauren. Would this take minutes or hours, or days? No one
|
||
had spoken; everyone was watching Clifton, yet his countenance had not
|
||
changed since they had begun. His long face showed little of the youth
|
||
it had when he and Luthias had spent more time together. Nor had
|
||
Marcellon's, of course, as he been in some sort of trance as well.
|
||
"How long?" Luthias finally asked Lady Lauren.
|
||
She stopped pacing, stared a him a moment. "A few more minutes,"
|
||
she faltered. "Not long, Lord Luthias," she assured him, with a shaky
|
||
attempt at a smile. "It is never long."
|
||
Myrande looked at the seemingly sleeping Duke. "I don't like the
|
||
way he breathes," she said, noting Clifton's labored pants.
|
||
Lauren whirled upon Luthias. "Is anything wrong with his heart?"
|
||
No one noticed the informality. Luthias shook his head. "He loves
|
||
you. Don't worry," Luthias tried to convince Lauren, but he sounded
|
||
too worried himself. He grimaced and walked away a few steps.
|
||
Lauren watched as Myrande followed Luthias with her eyes. When
|
||
Luthias was out of earshot, she asked, "How long have you loved him?"
|
||
Myrande appeared startled. "Since I was sixteen, seventeen." She
|
||
smiled. "Is it so obvious?"
|
||
"I just know things, sometimes," Lauren reassured her. "Clifton
|
||
said something about you asking Luthias' father for his hand..."
|
||
"Not exactly, my lady," Myrande replied, watching Luthias. They
|
||
were speaking softly, and Luthias looked like he had slipped into
|
||
another world. "When I was sixteen, Luthias' father, Fionn, asked me
|
||
if there was any man I preferred, so he could see about a marriage for
|
||
me. I told him, and he said we should wait." She swallowed. "And so I
|
||
have waited."
|
||
"And you can't stop loving him?" Myrande shook her head. Lauren
|
||
sighed. "I never knew what that was like...until Clifton..." She
|
||
looked at her love, still breathing heavily. "It should be soon..."
|
||
Soon, indeed they both showed signs of waking up, and everyone
|
||
watched anxiously as Clifton took a deep breath. Both Luthias and
|
||
Lauren caught their breath as they saw the haunted look in Clifton's
|
||
eyes as he opened them, then slumped back into the chair.
|
||
"He is fine, just let him rest a while." Marcellon said groggily.
|
||
Luthias thought that Marcellon could probably use the rest as well.
|
||
Still, Lauren went to the Duke's side. Clifton opened his eyes,
|
||
smiled weakly. "Flower, my lady?" he asked, holding out to her a white
|
||
rose, but his hand fell weakly to his chest, and he gave in to sleep.
|
||
"Father!" came Lauren's cry. Luthias saw her pointing at Clifton,
|
||
and noticed, for the first time, a delicate white papery rose lying
|
||
across his chest, and knew what it meant. Luthias grinned, most of the
|
||
tension leaving him. Sable was suddenly beside him, and they shared a
|
||
smile. Lauren continued whooping--there was no other word for it--"He
|
||
did it! We have your blessing?"
|
||
Marcellon looked stern. "I will have to give it some thought."
|
||
Luthias' grin crashed and was deformed into a frown. "What?"
|
||
Lauren's expression was one which only a father could bear. "But,
|
||
father, he's done it! He's fulfilled the test! He's proven himself."
|
||
"Yes, he has. He is a good man, and I promise to let you know if I
|
||
find him acceptable."
|
||
"Find him acceptable?" Luthias was startled to hear Myrande's
|
||
voice. He stared at her. She was angry, a black kitten with claws.
|
||
"What do you mean? He loves her, Lord Marcellon. Don't you know how
|
||
lucky she is to love a man who actually loves her back?"
|
||
Luthias winced. Marcellon looked at Lady Myrande sorrowfully and
|
||
shook his head. "There ss more to it, milady. You do not understand."
|
||
"What is there to understand? You are denying me what I have
|
||
waited years to have! Father, he's passed your damned test, and he's
|
||
the Lord of Dargon! I refuse to allow you to be so unreasonable."
|
||
"Unreasonable?" Marcellon thundered. "Would you end up as your
|
||
sister did?"
|
||
"Clifton would never so abuse me," Lauren said haughtily, pride in
|
||
her eyes and her posture.
|
||
"You cannot have him," Marcellon announced with finality.
|
||
"No!" Lauren replied.
|
||
"What?" Marcellon asked, his voice incredulous and furious.
|
||
"I said no. I love him, and if you cannot find it in you to
|
||
approve after he has gone through so much, then I shall marry him
|
||
without your blessing!"
|
||
"I am a wizard and--"
|
||
"I know that you're a wizard. Do you think I am without power of
|
||
my own--or that I fear you more than I love Clifton? Father, I've seen
|
||
some of your books and I know some of your tricks. You may kill us,
|
||
but it will take time and effort, and in the end, at least we'll die
|
||
together!" Lauren turned to Luthias. "Help me take Clifton home."
|
||
Luthias moved to lift his cousin, and Lauren turned to him, but
|
||
her father grabbed her wrist.
|
||
"You defy me, then?"
|
||
Lauren's head was high. "I love him, Father. I will marry him,
|
||
with or without your consent."
|
||
Marcellon slumped into a chair and closed his eyes. "Thank God."
|
||
Lauren was on the defensive. "What?"
|
||
Marcellon smiled and waited before continuing. "Now listen,
|
||
Lauren. Clifton has proved himself worthy of you. No other man has
|
||
passed my test of him--gaining something delicate, such as your love,
|
||
without using force. But what if you did not love him? I would not
|
||
allow you to marry someone whom you did not love, even if he succeeded
|
||
in passing my test."
|
||
Lauren was wondering if she should faint. "Then why the test? Why
|
||
didn't you just ask me whom I loved?"
|
||
"I did not want you beaten and abused, dearest," Marcellon said
|
||
affectionately. "If you remember, your sister loved her husband. I
|
||
wanted that test, to keep you alive and happy. But if the right man
|
||
passed, and you did not love him..."
|
||
"But you knew I loved Clifton!"
|
||
"Yes, and you loved the others, but would you have defied me for
|
||
any of them?" Lauren shook her head. "I thought not. And so, there was
|
||
a second test, my dear. Your test."
|
||
"What?" Lauren seemed on the edge of fury.
|
||
"You had to be worthy of him, as well. Until you defied me, you
|
||
had not proved yourself or your love to me. I know you must be angry
|
||
with me, but it was necessary."
|
||
Lauren understood, though she clearly had not approved of her
|
||
father toying with her. "I understand, Father." She returned to
|
||
Clifton's side and he quietly smiled. With that, the last of her anger
|
||
vanished.
|
||
"Put him down, Lord Luthias," Marcellon commanded, smiling.
|
||
"Lauren, wake him."
|
||
Something gentle and soft touched Clifton's lips, and he woke. "I
|
||
brought you a flower, Lauren," he mumbled. Then he saw Marcellon
|
||
standing behind his daughter. Luthias felt distinctly out of place.
|
||
Clifton stood proudly, although he felt exhausted. "I ask again for
|
||
your blessing."
|
||
Marcellon smiled and bowed. "You have it, your grace--or may I
|
||
say, my son?"
|
||
Clifton cheered, grabbed Lauren, kissed her lips, twirled her
|
||
through the air. She laughed like a girl. Marcellon beamed his
|
||
approval, until finally Clifton put down the man's daughter and shook
|
||
his future father-in-law's hand.
|
||
"Thank you...Father," Clifton said. Marcellon embraced him.
|
||
Clifton turned to Luthias. "Come on, manling, we've got a lot of
|
||
planning to do."
|
||
"Where are we going and what are we planning?"
|
||
"Home--the wedding, manling, the wedding!"
|
||
"When will you be getting married?" Marcellon asked.
|
||
Clifton blinked, then looked at Lauren. "Next week?"
|
||
"Next week?!" Marcellon protested.
|
||
"I don't want to wait," Clifton said dreamily, putting his arms
|
||
around Lauren.
|
||
"Nor I," Lauren agreed, laying her head on his shoulder.
|
||
"So soon..." Marcellon said uncertainly.
|
||
"What's to be gained by waiting?" Luthias argued practically.
|
||
"Very well," Marcellon agreed, smiling. "Next week." Clifton
|
||
kissed his bride as a celebration of the concession.
|
||
Marcellon touched Luthias' shoulder. "Come, milord. I think they'd
|
||
prefer to be alone."
|
||
Unnoticed, Marcellon, Myrande, and Luthias left the room. Walking
|
||
through the halls, Luthias offered his arm to Myrande. She smiled,
|
||
took it. "Well," sighed the Baron of Connall, "it looks like we're
|
||
having a wedding after all, Sable." Sable laughed softly. Luthias
|
||
stopped, looked at her. "I'm sorry it can't be yours."
|
||
Myrande elevated herself on her toes, and kissed his cheek. "Give
|
||
it time, my lord," she said, smiling. She leaned on his shoulder
|
||
contently. "Give it time."
|
||
-M. Wendy Hennequin <HENNEQUI@CTSTATEU>
|
||
and David A. Liscomb <LISCOMB@MAINE>
|
||
|
||
<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>X<>
|
||
|
||
an |