Mer: Crystal Rose Part 46

They were headed straight east through the foothills now, funneling up from the Vale of Orian. From the verdant lowlands patterned by crops and orchards, through forested gra.s.slands, they had emerged at last onto a rocky heath-a place of twisted trees and patchy wetlands. The ground beneath them sloped increasingly upward and now their horses' hooves met the first dusting of snow. The setting Sun gleamed rose-gold on the mountains before them, showing the pa.s.s as a dusky violet slash. Sunlight was withdrawing rapidly from the floor of the narrow valley, leaving the travelers in a bowl of unrelieved gray.

Gazing up at the distant crags of Baenn-an-ratha, Aine thought she had never seen a more desolate setting. She had once thought Hrofceaster to be desolate, but now, it pulled at her, like home. As she pictured the place, sitting high up on its craggy scarp, she saw tents scattered on the slopes below its walls. In their midst, a standard bore aloft an object that flashed fire into the violet bowl overhead and, near that standard, in a small, guarded tent . . .

"Aine, what is it?" asked Iseabal. "What's wrong?"

Aine shook the vision away, realizing she'd stopped her horse in the middle of the rock-strewn track and had frozen there, mouth and eyes agape.

"Airleas," she whispered. "We must hurry, Isha. Airleas will be betrayed."

Airleas stood on the parapet looking out over the forecourt of the fortress. Under a layer of moon-washed mist, the angles and planes of Airdnasheen glittered with a fine layer of frost. Odd, he felt no chill, nor did his breath cloud the frigid air.

Before he could contemplate that, his eyes were drawn to the courtyard below. Furtive movement roiled the mist-may have even been part of the mist. In moments, the movement took on form, coalescing to become colorless cloaked and hooded figures-a trio of satellites...o...b..ting a central point.

Airleas frowned. No, not satellites, shepherds, and the single charge was obviously captive. Cold panic flushed through him. He tensed to run, but found himself unable to move. He tried to cry out, but his throat failed him. His fingers gripped the parapet; they were numb to the freezing stone.

It could only be a Weave. But, dear G.o.d, so powerful?

The fleeing figures were almost to the gates when he remembered his own aidan and marshaled it. Though his body seemed incapable of movement, surely his spirit could fly. He barely had the thought when he found himself soaring over the parapet, swooping into the dark recesses of the forecourt.

Before the scurrying figures, he lit, bird-like, and braced himself for their attack. The wraith-forms did not even pause in their advance. It was as if he were invisible to them.

"Stop!" he shouted, but no sound came from his lips. The dark shepherds pressed on, and now the one they herded raised her head as if she alone had heard him. It was Taminy's face he stared into, Taminy's eyes that gazed blankly into his own.

Panicked and befuddled, he could only gape while sheep and shepherds bore through him as if he were composed of mist.

Behind him the gates of Hrofceaster rattled and the invaders pa.s.sed out into the night. Sluggish now, Airleas struggled to turn, to follow the men who had taken Taminy. Why had no one been aware of them? Why had no one raised the alarm or stopped them? Were all as bewicked as he was?

He floundered over the questions; his mind obeyed no better than his body had done. Clarity would not come. The gray world around him became black and close. He gasped, afraid he must suffocate.

He shocked to complete awareness in his bed, up to his ears in blankets and fleeces. Quaking, he struggled to orient himself. Had he been dreaming? Was he now awake?

Then came fear. Had the dream been prophetic? Or had he been bewicked and seeing an aislinn vision from the midst of someone else's Weave?

Rattling. He could still hear the rattling of the fortress gates or . . .

He sat up. No, it was his chamber door that rattled now. He rose unsteadily, pulled on a woolen cloak and stumbled to his door, yet unable to shake the vision. In the hallway, Deardru-an-Caerluel stood, trembling, m.u.f.fled in an azure cloak.

"Lord!" she cried, seeing him. "Lord, Feich has taken your Mistress away by stealth and by inyx. He's befuddled Catahn and Desary-even Osraed Wyth. They all sleep as if dead. You must come!"

Airleas shook his head. Befuddled? He had certainly been that himself. How was he now awake? "Bewicked," he murmured. "But how have I-?"

"The amulet! I was awake when the Weave fell on the fortress. I could wake you only because we are linked by the amulet. Airleas-" She grasped his arm, bent to look into his eyes. "Airleas, you're the only one who can save her!"

Airleas's heart seemed to stop, trembling, in his breast. Taminy. Feich had taken Taminy. He had not dreamed.

As he dressed, as he strapped on his sword, he flogged his mind, trying to clear it. Surely, there were questions he should ask. Things he must know before he went anywhere. What should he do when he got outside the gates of Hrofceaster? Would he have to kill Feich? Could he kill Feich? How could he do what Taminy could not? How was it she was disarmed and not Eyslk's mother?

Head spinning, he followed the Hillwild woman from the room and through the chill corridors of Hrofceaster. Perhaps it was the cold of the hemming stone, perhaps it was the dregs of his aislinn vision, but Airleas's mind at last grasped at one of the circling questions.

"What must I do? I must know what to do," he murmured and realized his teeth were chattering. He began to pray, silently.

"You must kill Daimhin Feich," Deardru said. "You must rescue your Mistress."

"I . . . I can't! I can't kill Feich, I-"

"Don't be ridiculous, child. You can walk on water."

"No, I mean . . ." How could she know? Had she spied on his lesson by the Gwyr's pool? Why should she do that? He shook his head, wis.h.i.+ng the effects of the enemy Weave would wear off.

He grasped at a pa.s.sing thought. "Taminy would despise me if I killed Daimhin Feich."

Deardru glanced back at him. "To save her life? Her honor? You are mistaken."

Not even for that, he thought, and fell silent, trying to decide what he could do now that he had decided what he couldn't do.

Stopping, going back into the fortress, running to Taminy's room to see if she was there, none of these things occurred to him. His body followed Deardru as if on a tether, but his mind, pacing its narrow confines, came to a decision; he knew what he would do when he faced Daimhin Feich.

Outside the gates of Hrofceaster, Airleas took the initiative, moving ahead of Deardru down the rocky defile toward the trailhead from Airdnasheen. He had not quite drawn level with the village gate when he sensed the enemy presence and felt of the boundaries of their camp-physical boundaries and aislinn. The first he could circ.u.mvent, the second, he did not want to.

He announced himself to the watching, listening aidan and experienced a backwash of surprise. In the middle of the dark trail, he stopped and pulled his sword from its scabbard. Behind him, Deardru-an-Caerluel gasped, pulling up short.

"Run," he told her. "Hide." He tossed the sword away from him onto the ground.

After a moment of hush, several figures arose before him as if out of the ground. One of them picked up his sword and moved to stand before him. In the dusky figure's hands the sword blade flashed with sudden light, glowing a bright and silvery blue. By its light, Airleas could see that the man he faced was Daimhin Feich.

"Is this surrender, Cyneric?" Feich asked him. "I rather expected an attack."

"I've come to offer myself to stand as prisoner in Taminy's place. Take me back to Creiddylad, but free my Lady."

Feich smiled. "Oh, I'll take you back to Creiddylad, rest a.s.sured. But I can't possibly free 'your Lady.' I don't have her." He glanced up over Airleas's head. "Thank you, Mistress, your help has been invaluable."

Airleas turned his spinning head. It came as no surprise to see Deardru-an-Caerluel still standing on the trail behind him.

She did not return the Regent's smile. "If you can force Taminy-Osmaer out of Hrofceaster," she said, "I will consider myself well paid."

"I have the boy," he told his cousin, and Ruadh felt an unaccountable surge of relief.

He settled himself before the brazier in Daimhin's gaudy tent. "The Hillwild woman delivered him to you?"

"He practically delivered himself. I expected him to come wielding his sword. Instead, he surrendered it."

"Because of your Weaving, you think."

"Mine, Coinich Mor's, and the Hillwild's. She gave him an amulet that, according to her, amplified any inyx she directed at him. Homey magic, that, don't you think?"

"I couldn't say. But we have what we came for, now. We can return to Creiddylad."

"Not yet. There is one more thing I need to accomplish here."

Suddenly uneasy, Ruadh asked, "Surely, you don't intend to try to take Hrofceaster?"

"Not Hrofceaster, itself. Only what it holds-Taminy-Osmaer."

"Are you mad? The longer you stay here, the more time you give her to retaliate. I know you think you and your Wickish consorts are very clever and powerful, but-"

"We are both clever and powerful. Taminy imagines that she is dealing with one power, but she is dealing with two-three if you count that traitorous Hillwild woman. And she is afraid of me."

"This awesome woman is afraid of you?"

"So Lilias tells me."

The uneasiness of Ruadh's soul increased. "Cousin, you have the Cyneric. You can return to Creiddylad and set yourself up as his Regent and Durweard. You can marry your Deasach Cwen, if you would. You can pacify the Houses and harness the a.s.sembly. With Airleas in hand, you will have power in Caraid-land. If Taminy-Osmaer is, as you say, afraid of you, you can keep her at bay, as well. Why must we continue to put ourselves through this hards.h.i.+p? So you can avenge yourself on this woman for some former humiliation?"

Daimhin shook his head. "I don't want revenge, Ruadh. You scoff at my 'Wickish consorts,' as you call them. You may be right in thinking them an inferior sort. Coinich Mor is certainly rough-cut and Lilias is a foreigner. But what of a Divine consort? Would you scoff at that?"

"A Divine consort? What do you mean?" Ruadh knew what he meant, but somehow hoped the words that came from Daimhin's mouth would prove his suspicions false. They did not.

"Taminy-Osmaer, cousin. That's who I would wed. Imagine it-Light and Darkness, the Divine and the Profane, the Blameless and the Wicked. The power, you see, is in the contrast."

Insanity. It wore his cousin's face. If he could, he would gather his men and leave this moment. Only honor prevented him.

"How can you hope to harness that power? She is a minion of the Meri. Ultimately, the Meri will prevail."

"The beauty of her strength, is that it is constrained, even confined, by a peculiar weakness. She could destroy me-I believe she would have destroyed me, once-but, you see, her nature prevents her. She is incapable of deviousness; I am deviousness itself. She abhors violence; I find it exhilarating. She is above l.u.s.t; I am l.u.s.t incarnate. She serves a Mistress of Light; I serve a Master of Darkness."

Ruadh could only sit and s.h.i.+ver with the cold that sat in the pit of his stomach. "You've spoken like this before-about your Dark Master. What Master do you mean? Surely, you don't believe in Cadder's Grand Demon?"

"What do you know of that?"

"Only what he's sniveled in his frequent moments of whining. Every evil thing in the world is the fault of this mighty Demon. Most especially, is Taminy-Osmaer the fault of this Demon. It would not occur to Minister Cadder that evil is a product of the human mind, born out of human weaknesses."

Daimhin smiled indulgently. "Would such a thing occur to you?"

"Yes."

"Then you don't believe the universe holds both the Spirit and Its Opposite, Its balance, Its undoing?"

"No."

"Well, I do believe that. Moreover, I believe I am called to serve that Opposite. Coinich Mor tried to convince me that the power of my aidan arose within me. She spoke in ignorance. Oh yes, of course, she instructed me in how to Weave by tapping my own energies and those of others. But I can feel something outside me, beyond me, feeding those energies. It is this that Caime Cadder fears and I exult in. A Being of Darkness. The Spirit's opposition."

"So, in wedding Taminy, you expect to bring Light under the control of Darkness?"

Daimhin chuckled. "You misunderstand my intention. Let me share with you what I have come to understand. You see, the universe exists in a balance. If the balance is upset, chaos erupts. I now know that the Meri regenerates every hundred years or so. When this occurs, Light floods the world; the balance is upset. There is what the Osraed call a Cusp; there is a battle, if you will, between what the Osraed perceive as Good and what they perceive as Evil. There is chaos; blood is shed; the balance of power is upset in Creiddylad as elsewhere. But in this Cusp, the chaos will be short-lived because I have come to understand the need for balance. I will wed Taminy-Osmaer and there will be balance between Darkness and Light."

"You expect to be in control of Light?"

Daimhin smiled. "I told you, Ruadh, Taminy lacks the strong qualities necessary for control. Therefore, I shall harness her powers as well as mine for the best interests of Caraid-land." His eyes brightened. "I shall bring about a confluence of good and evil. Think of it, Ruadh. For the first time in history, a balance shall be struck between the two."

"Ah, and there shall be peace and prosperity for all," said Ruadh facetiously.

"Exactly."

There was no talking to him, he was so full of himself-so full of his grandiose ideas. Ruadh had no recourse but to go to his cousin's allies, such as they were. They gathered in Lilias Saba's tent-the Banarigh, Coinich Mor, The Dearg, Caime Cadder and himself-and he told them of his cousin's intention to drag Taminy-a-Cuinn from Hrofceaster and wed her. He didn't mention Daimhin's prattle about Darkness and Light. He spoke in terms of a balance of power-of the logic of control.

"If he kills her, she becomes a martyr-someone for whom people will be willing to fight. Likewise, if he leaves her here and free, she continues to be a rallying point for every dissident and malcontent in Caraid-land. So, Daimhin has . . . come to believe that the only way he can control Taminy's allies is to control her. And to enlist her tacit support."

Caime Cadder's face was as white as the snow covering the ground outside. "He can't control her. Doesn't he see that?"

"He thinks he's done a mighty good job of it so far. He believes his talent for subterfuge makes him inherently stronger. And, of course, his aidan and his fey allies." Ruadh bowed toward the Dearg and Deasach women, who glanced at each other in a way that made his skin crawl.

"He was to marry me," Lilias said. "He spoke to me of power and love." She smiled wryly. "Also, our common love of power. I will not share him with Taminy the Pure."

Eadrig Dearg made a rude noise. "I care little for that, mistress. But I do care that the man behind our Cyneric's throne not take this Wicke into his confidence. She'll taint him as surely as she draws air."

Ruadh declined to comment upon who would taint whom, but merely said, "Then are we agreed that he must be discouraged from this course? That he must be made to return to Creiddylad with Airleas, now?"

"At all costs," said Cadder. "He can have no idea how dangerous that woman is. He is swept up in a heady sense of his own power. He is naive. He cannot hope to control her. She Weaves to make him believe that he can." He glanced around at the others. "You see how insidious she is?"

"What do you put forth as a plan?" asked The Dearg.

"Withdraw your men. Threaten to leave him here with only the Deasach as allies."

Lilias Saba laughed. "He has no Deasach allies. He will not let me avenge my brother's death on this Osmaer woman and now he insults me by proposing to marry her. I've had enough of this gaming."

"Now, Raven," murmured Coinich Mor, "will you let your jealousy blind you? What better way to avenge your brother than to allow our Daimhin to get his hands on the Wicke so you can get your hands on her?"

Lilias pursed her generous lips. "You make a winning point."

Cadder scowled and glanced at Ruadh. "Where is he?"

"Visiting the Cyneric."

"I must speak to him."

"Speak to him," said the Raven, "of my decision to leave him alone on this mountain. Then perhaps your threats of Divine retribution may mean something to him."

She left the tent, swaggering, and Ruadh could not help but think how well-suited she and Daimhin were, albeit, she was not as mad.

"Your cousin says you would marry the Caraidin Wicke."