The Harp of Imach Thyssel Page 17

  “As you will. But I grow tired of this waiting.”

  “Then it’s as well I have another task for you; I would not have you grow bored in my service.”

  “Boring is very nearly the last word I would use to describe it,” Kensal said with an exaggerated sigh. “What do you have in mind?”

  “Follow the minstrel. He does not realize how near to danger he is. I think you can overtake him; he has but half a day’s start of you.”

  Kensal grinned fiercely. “I can catch him. But what do I tell him when I do? He’s no fool; I doubt that he’ll trust me.”

  “Tell him the truth, as much of it as he will hear.”

  “Ryl, are you sure?”

  “The time for secrecy is passing. And I think nothing less will convince him of our need in time.”

  “If he can still be convinced.”

  Ryl nodded soberly. “Yes. If he can be convinced.”

  Chapter 16

  EMERECK LAY STILL, TRYING to recapture the dream he had been having. It had been important, he was sure, though he could not have said why. There had been music in it, and tall, gentle people with golden skin, and strange moonlight… He sighed as the memory slipped away, and became aware of a crackling sound nearby, and a smell of something cooking that made his mouth water. His eyes flew open, and he blinked in disbelief.

  A circular area a few yards away had been cleared of grass and weeds, and a small fire burned cheerfully in its center. Two birds, pigeons perhaps, were suspended over the flames on a small but sturdy wooden spit. Liana sat on the opposite side of the fire, watching the birds cook. Beyond, a dapple-gray mare grazed beside Emereck’s horse.

  “Good morning, minstrel,” Liana said calmly as Emereck sat up, staring.

  “Liana, what are you doing here?” Emereck demanded.

  “Cooking breakfast,” Liana replied. “I hope you like plains-duck; there isn’t much else to be found around here.”

  “That’s not what I meant! How did you find me?”

  Liana smiled. “I wasn’t more than an hour or two behind you. And I’m afraid you’re no plainsman; your trail was rather obvious.”

  Emereck looked at the almost featureless expanse of grass and weeds that surrounded them. “It was?”

  “For someone who has grown up around Minathlan, it was. I caught up with you last night, but I… didn’t think you would want to be disturbed then.”

  She must have heard his harping. Emereck looked at her and became suddenly aware that he was still covered with the grime of yesterday’s journey, and that he was in need of a shave as well as breakfast. He pushed the thought to the back of his mind—there was nothing he could do about it at the moment—and said, “You shouldn’t be here.”

  “You made your opinion rather obvious yesterday,” Liana said, studying the two birds intently. She leaned forward and adjusted their position, then went on, “But I happen to disagree with you. Besides, you left without taking any provisions, and I thought you might need a few.”

  “You brought those from Minathlan?” Emereck asked, nodding at the plains-ducks.

  “No, I shot them early this morning.” She glanced down, and for the first time Emereck noticed a bow and a quiver of arrows on the ground beside her.

  “Oh.” Emereck had a hard time envisioning Liana shooting anything, but the evidence was unmistakable.

  “The Duke insists that all of his family learn to use a bow,” Liana said. “It’s a tradition of some sort. I’m not as good as Kiannar or Oraven, but I’m better than Gendron. Talerith is just hopeless, but the Duke makes her try anyway.”

  “I can imagine.”

  “So I went hunting this morning,” Liana continued. “I thought we should save what’s in my packs, in case we can’t find any game later.”

  Emereck shook his head. “There isn’t going to be a later.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “I’m taking you back to Minathlan.”

  “How?”

  “What?”

  “How are you going to take me back?” Liana repeated patiently. “You can’t very well tie me to my horse, you know, and I can’t think of any other way you could manage it.”

  “I don’t believe you’ll stay out here alone if I head back,” Emereck said, trying to sound more confident than he felt.

  Liana tilted her head, considering. “No, I don’t suppose I would.” Emereck let out a breath of relief. Liana smiled and said, “I’d go on to Kith Alunel, alone. Though I’m afraid it would make things a bit awkward for you when you got back to Minathlan; Gendron would certainly want some sort of explanation.”

  “What will Gendron say about this?”

  “Very little, I should think. I talked to him before I left, and he said most of it then.” Liana bent forward to examine the cooking birds. “He was almost as difficult as you’re being, but he gave in eventually.”

  “I can’t take you with me!” Emereck had to exert all his willpower to keep from glancing at the bundle beside his horse that contained the Harp of Imach Thyssel. It was a good thing he had not taken time to make a proper camp the previous night after all; if he had loosened any of the careful wrappings around the harp, Liana would surely have noticed it at once.

  “You aren’t taking me anywhere. I’m coming with you on my own,” Liana said. “Now, if you’ve quite finished your objections, why don’t we eat? I’m starving!”

  They rode west all morning. At first, Emereck was silent, brooding over Flindaran’s death, and the harp, and especially over his failure to dissuade Liana from accompanying him. He had protested throughout breakfast and breaking camp, using every argument he could think of. Liana countered them all with an air of sweet reason that came near to making him wonder whether he was the one being irrational.

  Liana glanced at him several times as they rode, but did not intrude on his thoughts except to point out very gently whenever he drifted from the direction he had chosen. After her second correction, Emereck abandoned the vague notion he had entertained of leading her in a circle and so getting her back to Minathlan. Liana was coming with him, and there was nothing he could do about it.

  Actually, he reflected, Liana could easily be an asset on the journey. She clearly knew the plains well, at least this close to Minathlan, and judging by breakfast, she was a good enough archer to supply occasional small game to supplement their dried provisions. Most of all, her presence was a welcome distraction from thoughts of the harp, and of Flindaran. He wondered how long he could keep her from realizing that he was going to Ciaron and not to Kith Alunel, and what she would say when she found out.

  It occurred to him that telling her his true destination might be all that was needed to make her return to Minathlan. Surely, she would not insist on accompanying him so far! He took a quick, speculative glance in Liana’s direction. On the other hand, she was wonderfully stubborn. And she was sure to ask any number of awkward questions, once she learned the truth. Better to postpone that confrontation as long as possible, and simply accept her company in the meantime.

  He sneaked another glance, and found her watching him. Their eyes met, and suddenly Liana laughed. “I’m sorry,” she said almost at once, “but it seems so silly for both of us to watch each other when we aren’t looking!”

  Emereck grinned reluctantly. “I apologize for being such a poor companion,” he said. “I’ll try to do better in the future.”

  “I don’t know whether you should,” Liana said thoughtfully. “It never seems to work when people try to be something they aren’t.”

  “I beg your pardon?” Emereck said, considerably startled.

  “O, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to imply that I think you’re always a poor traveling companion. You couldn’t be, or—” Liana stopped short.

  “Or what?”

  “Or Flindaran would have complained. He—he always did, you know, when he didn’t like something.”

  “Yes.” Emereck was silent for a moment. “Flindaran n
ever had much patience.” Suddenly he was intensely aware of Flindaran’s absence. The journey was too similar to the last one he had made with Flindaran; the countryside, the sound of the horses, the very freshness of the air made him think of his friend, and know that Flindaran was not there, would never be there again… “It reminds me of Ciaron,” Emereck said at random.

  Liana looked from him to the empty grasslands and back. “This is like Ciaron?”

  “Well, not really…”

  Liana smiled. “Tell me about Ciaron.”

  “It’s large, and crowded,” Emereck replied, grateful for the distraction. “There are always at least two Trader caravans passing through; there’s a kind of permanent camp for them just inside the walls.”

  “Do the noblemen really put diamonds on their carriage-wheels?”

  “You’re thinking of Rathane,” Emereck said solemnly. “Ciaron is much more conservative; they never use anything more expensive than quartz on their carriages.”

  “You’re joking!”

  “Not at all,” Emereck said, but he was unable to keep his face straight, and Liana laughed again. She had a very nice laugh, Emereck thought.

  “All right, I won’t ask foolish questions,” Liana said. “But you will have to tell me what Ciaron is really like, and no more well-stretched stories!”

  Emereck was quite willing to do so, and they spent the rest of the morning and much of the afternoon in conversation. He told her about the marketplace, where goods from all the lands around the Melyranne Sea were available, for a price. He described the fish-houses that surrounded the harbor, and the harbor itself, where the great ships floated carefully above the sunken ruins of an older city. He told her of the two-copper magicians, who performed by sleight of hand rather than by true magic, and of the Minstrel’s Guildhall that was one of the best on Lyra. Flindaran’s memory was a muted counterpoint to every part of Emereck’s narrative, but curiously it had ceased to disturb him.

  They passed no villages during the day, and few houses. At least one of the houses they saw had been abandoned and was in the process of falling to pieces. Several birds flew out of the crumbling chimney as they approached, and the walls sagged under the weight of what was left of the roof. They did not stop to investigate.

  They traveled farther than Emereck had expected; by late afternoon they were passing occasional clumps of trees, harbingers of the forest for which they were heading. Near dusk, they chose a place and set about making camp. As they groomed the horses, Emereck wondered how he could unbundle his meager belongings without revealing the harp to Liana. She would certainly think it strange if he never touched it.

  He was tempted to simply tell her he had the harp, but the bitter lessons of recent experience held him back. Besides, they were still too close to Minathlan, and all Liana’s loyalties must lie there.

  He lowered his saddle to the ground next to his harp-case and the somewhat bulky bundle that contained the Harp of Imach Thyssel. Perhaps if he asked Liana to hunt something for their dinner, she would be gone long enough for him to unpack his eating knife and hide the harp once more, as well as set up camp. It occurred to him suddenly that there might be some awkwardness about their sleeping arrangements for the night. After all, Liana was a Duke’s daughter, however illegitimate, and Flindaran’s sister as well. Not that he, Emereck, would presume… but would she know that?

  Emereck glanced back toward the horses. Liana was standing on the other side of her mare; all Emereck could see were her boots and an occasional flash of her hair as she curried the horse’s neck. He cleared his throat, then paused, not knowing how to begin or even what he wanted to say. He coughed, and cleared his throat again.

  “Are you all right?” Liana called.

  “Uh, yes, of course,” Emereck said hastily.

  “Well, you sound as if you’re catching something.” She leaned around her mare and peered at Emereck. “Maybe I should try to find some horehound. There’s bound to be some around; it grows practically everywhere.”

  “Horehound? Why?”

  “Horehound tea is good for coughs.”

  “I don’t need—that is, there’s no reason for you to put yourself out.”

  “Maybe you don’t think so, but I’d rather not travel all the way to Kith Alunel with someone who’s coughing and sneezing.” Liana came around to Emereck’s side of her mare and continued her currying.

  “Oh.” Emereck shifted uncomfortably, wondering why he felt so flustered. “I, um,” he said, and stopped.

  “What?” Liana looked over her shoulder, then turned and studied him for a moment. “You were going to say something?”

  “I was wondering,” Emereck said carefully, “where you wanted your bed laid out.”

  “It doesn’t matter, as long as it’s reasonably free of rocks and thistles. Why?”

  Emereck felt his face growing warm. “I just thought you might have a, er, preference.”

  Liana stared at him, then smiled. “Oh, now I see what’s bothering you! I’m sorry; I’m not usually so dense.”

  “Actually, I wasn’t worried about myself.”

  “Well, you needn’t fret on my account. I have quite a few brothers, and I’ve been camping with them before. You don’t have to worry about ‘offending my modesty,’ or whatever the phrase is in Ciaron.”

  “I’m not your brother,” Emereck said without thinking.

  Liana gave him a brilliant smile. “I know.”

  “I didn’t mean—”

  “That’s all right; I did.” Liana grinned at his confusion. “I’m going to find something for dinner. Put the beds wherever you want them.” She gave him a mischievous look, picked up her bow and arrows, and was out of hearing before Emereck could think of an adequate response.

  Emereck stared after her, then realized that this was his chance to unwrap the harp. Without enthusiasm, he went over to the small pile of his belongings, knelt, and began untying the knots that held his careful camouflage together. His thoughts were full of Liana; he hardly even noticed what his hands were doing.

  Had she known what she was offering when she told him to put the beds wherever he wanted them? She must have; Liana was no fool. His breath caught at the thought, then, regretfully, he laid it aside. He had been the cause of trouble and division in her family since his arrival in Minathlan; he was responsible for her brother’s death; he had taken the Harp of Imach Thyssel against her father’s expressed commands. He had lied to her about where he was going and why, and because of those lies, she was determined to come with him on this long and dangerous journey. He could not add to the list of wrongs between them by taking advantage of her offer now, however much he might want to. His fingers moved on the harpstrings, to pluck the first sad chords of “The Sword-smith and the Lady,” and he realized just what he was about to do.

  He dropped the harp and was on his feet in an instant. He stood two paces from the harp, staring down at it, and waited for his shaking to stop. How could it have happened? He had been about to play the Harp of Imach Thyssel as if it were an ordinary instrument with no purpose but to make music, and he had not even noticed. He might have brought every wizard and thief between Kith Alunel and the Kathkari Mountains down on their heads. He might have told Duke Dindran what he had done and where he was. He might…

  He might have played the Harp of Imach Thyssel.

  Somehow, the thought did not terrify him as much as it had barely a few days before. His own carelessness frightened him far more than the harp. He stepped forward and picked up the instrument. The ivory was cool and smooth against his palms, but he felt no urge to play it. That obsession had died with Flindaran.

  He set the harp down and covered it, then set about making camp. By the time Liana returned carrying a brace of rabbits, the harp was safely rewrapped and Emereck was seated before a small fire, staring into the flames. She did not refer to their earlier conversation, though she must have noticed the two piles of grass on opposite sides of the fi
re. Emereck, watching her skin the rabbits she had brought, could not decide whether he was glad or sorry that she did not mention it.

  Chapter 17

  EMERECK WAS SHAKING—NO, someone was shaking him. His eyes flew open and he saw Liana’s face above him, washed in moonlight. But the nightmare still clung to him; she seemed to be melting into darkness as he watched. He sat up with a breath that was half sob, and realized that it was only a cloud crossing one of the moons. He waited until he was sure his voice would be steady, then said, “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome,” Liana said. She hesitated, then went on, “I wasn’t really sure whether I ought to wake you, but…”

  “I’m glad you did. I missed the worst part this way.”

  Liana hesitated. “This has happened before?”

  “Yes, nearly every—” He stopped, staring into the night, going backward in his mind. “Nearly every night since we found that cursed harp!” he said slowly.

  “How can it be the harp?”

  “I don’t know. But it’s the same dream, every night, and it started when we found the harp.”

  “What do you dream?” Liana asked softly.

  “I see a city, and tall people with golden skin and eyes. It is night, and Kaldarin is rising. Elewyth is just ahead of it, but most of the light comes from a silver moon that’s bigger than either of them. Then something reaches out and touches the silver moon, and it… hurts. The air goes dark, and everything starts twisting. I see the golden people melting and… changing, and I know they are screaming but I can’t hear them. It goes on, and on, and the silver moon cracks and falls and everything is dark, and it still won’t stop—”

  Liana laid a hand on his arm. For a long time, they sat in silence. At last Liana shook herself. “It doesn’t sound to me as if it has anything to do with the harp. But I think it’s just as well you had to leave it in Minathlan.”