Chapter 50

Andy blundered along like a human, and though my feet hindered me I soon caught up with him. I hid behind trees and banks, watched him fall asleep beneath an apple tree. It was raining again. He was pale, bruised under the eyes, and I decided to replace his poultice.

I mashed the palendries between my hands and pulled down his shirt. He grabbed my wrist––I almost wet my trousers. A blade glinted, I dropped the stuff, and he sighed.

"Thought you were Forbs." He lay on his back, staring up at me.

"You can't cut a ghost."

"Been changing my poultices?"

"Obviously."

He turned on his side. "Why'd you bring me back?"

I got off my knees and squatted in front of him. I was scared he was going to make a run for it.

"Answer."

"I like to dance," I said, and wiped my sticky hands on my shirt.

"Yes. You like to dance so much you brought me back."

"Did I ever hate you."

He sat upright. "I know. Why'd you bring me back?"

I took a couple deep breaths. "What sort of imbecile would run a djain through with a dagger?"

"Me." He was angry now. "Why the hell did you bring me back? How did it feel? Being tortured and tied to a stake half-naked?" He stared stonily at the tree trunk.

"Let me try to reason it out for you," he said. "I thought my life was hell––so horrible I was proud of it. But you took even that away from me with your misery and your damn hands. You should have killed me. I have nothing to stand on now, and I want to hurt you for it."

His face was wild. I made to rise, but he shook his head. "No. Are you so dumb? It must be obvious. Why are you doing this? " He started to cry. "I know why you're doing this." I felt my ears burning up.

"Andy––"

"Leave." He turned his back to me.

I closed my eyes. I would go back to camp, back to my brothers. They would ask me why I was so sad, tell me I had no business crying––

"No," I said stubbornly. "No." I put my hand in his muddy hair––his head was burning––and I kissed him on the mouth. I pulled away a little, and his eyes didn't look so dark as his face, for his blood was rushing something awful.

"What are you doing?" he said.

"It's been done before."

"You're playing a trick."

"I'm not."

"And imagine what your brothers––"

"They'll bear it well enough. They owe me a country."

"Oh gods––" He was laughing now. "You are dumb." He wiped his wrist across his eyes. "The saddest princess I ever laid eyes on. Your hands!" He took my hands and kissed the fingertips. "What happened to your finger? Like a laundress"––he moved to my face, and before he could poke me in the eye I pulled his hands down between mine––"who washes cats."

"Go on about my hands." I was so hot I thought of taking off my shirt. "You look like a three-year-old corpse. But I'd say"––just like a girl I couldn't stop talking––"we're the prettiest couple in the country, cause of what the drabs say––in better worlds than this, beauty is measured by the scars you've managed to collect rather than avoid––"

"Bunch of shit." He kissed me again, and I pushed him away.

"So's most things. And that woman who ruined our lives? Fuck her. Fuck her backwards and forwards." I looked up at the branches, and the rain fell into my eyes and made them run. "Can you hear us?" I yelled. I pressed his hand into the mud. He pulled back, but my grip was tight, and laughing at his face, I poured it through his hand and into the tree until she bloomed and rained white.

Andy's strength came back, and as my feet were causing me trouble he carried me on his shoulders back to camp. I gave Nefer's dragonfly broach to Emry (as the whole thing had started with her mother) before she disappeared back into the wild with Seacho and the others.

But the silver urn was put to use, and the Evenahlen contingent preceded the Ombenelvan one back to Ellyned, where Calragen stood brazenly on the quayside and waited until each black cuirass had boarded a ship bound for the Aclun and the South. How long they would remain satisfied with the decoy was anyone's guess.

We kept out of sight for a time, across the estuary at Daifen's place, and learned firsthand why Daifen had acted as he did. He wasn't the villain we'd made him out to be.

"The pendant?" he stammered. "You understand, stealing––that is to say, requisitioning, the thing was my only means––you understand––my only means of suppressing the rebellion. That is to say, my good lords, with the thing gone they might've left––

"Left, I'm sure," said Mordan. "Or done something much worse."

"I could think of no other way. No other way––"

"You do realize what those mercenaries would've done had they found out?"

"Let him alone," I said.

"Stop sticking your oar in, Mordan," said Tem. "And you needn't cry, Reyna, you're not a little girl." (Relief was making me ridiculous.) "But there's something else I want to address."

"Rewritten laws," said Mordan helpfully. "About weapons."

"Just another matter of suppressing––without weapons, you understand, suppressing––"

"And had you been successful, our budding Ravyir wouldn't have got his kick in the arse, would he?"

"Perhaps you ought to read a book on logic, Mordan," said Tem.

After two weeks my feet had healed and Tem allowed for a short trip into the city, provided that he and Mordan accompanied me. Arin would've come too, but he couldn't run fast enough in a brace.

"Run fast enough?" said Mordan.

"All those girls you spied on," said Arin. "They'll have told their brothers."

Brace or no, Mordan went and sat on Arin's head for half an hour.

We paid a visit to Hal first, who kept two rooms above a shop. It was midday, and a faint wail hung in the stairwell. It poured out full-force when I opened the door.

Padlimaird stood at a table, making an ill-tempered racket with a milk jug and a bottle. Strapped in a chair next to him was a little girl. She was red in the face, twisting back and forth, screaming. "Here, here, here," Padlimaird said, giving the bottle. "Domineering as your mam, ain't you?" She sucked noisily and laughed when he spread himself into a supine position on the floor.

"Between you two I don't know which is the baby," I said.

"You don't know?" He sat up. "Damned if you know anything." Mordan cleared his throat. "Where you been, Lally? Who are them? Ghostly, ain't they?" Padlimaird stood up. "All got the same eyes."

"We're brothers," said Mordan. "Her brothers. You don't know where Hal is, do you?"

"Out. Brothers?" Padlimaird scratched his head. "Where was you this whole time?"

"Somewhere else," said Tem.

"Oh," said Padlimaird. "What shall I call you?"

"Tem." Tem looked at the garret across the way.

"I'd thought it'd be Fleabane or Zinnia." Padlimaird chuckled.

"Why are you drawing it out?" I said. "He's just going to embarrass himself and get cranky."

"What do you want me to do?" said Tem exasperatedly. "Hand him a calling card? Temmaec Lauriad, pleased to meet you?"

"What's this?" came Hal's voice behind us. "Padlimaird, you in trouble?" Tem and Mordan turned round. Hal dropped his fiddle on the floor, and Daira laughed.

Tea was poured (there was little else), and it was late in the night when all our tales were told.

In the late spring, when Liskara had finally picked her way back to the palace stables, Tem was crowned King. There was dancing along the riverfront, white gowns, hair woven with apple blossoms, and Andy with his merry brown eyes; and somewhere a voice sang low and loose:

Dara lun, dara lun diorlinga adebry.

Loan, ginder leo, loan gaefed wghl adhe.

Wldhfen sun ginder orchel dur lin aeghl eaor hold

Derreld aeo mass eldha chel llorwy.

Norembrin, lairaded down da ramh elded.

Norembrin, breldaded glain daelded dreid,

Derry breldaded e'ercruin dyd darn enge morda,

Dem mrei ealsa plun twy chelonin dem braid.

Norembrin, graichelded ederidh blwn langad.

Lorena elded ederidh rei ad sor.

Adhe corn elded brinbodh ederent oidey ade,

Wghl bry edidh brin adh e'erdaimh na wot gor.*

Years later, a man from the north told me a story: Somewhere, on a hill overgrown with yews, beneath a small, fruitless rowan, a circle of flowers grew year round. No one had ever seen them. But it was a pretty tale.

When the country's affairs were in order, Calragen sent his contingent across the Daynens to Lorila. Then he set sail for Evenalehn to appeal for more aid.

Trid and Andy went with him, and Floy and I, too. I wanted out. Our schooner was named Aloren, Starflower, that is, in Gralde, and small breakers split across her keel as we pulled through the harbor. Terns circled above. It was a cold morning but I wasn't wearing shoes; and presently sun broke through the fog and warmed the deck, where we were sitting.

"Funny," said Trid, leaning his head against the railing, "how this turned out."

"Even funnier how Aly looks in a dress," said Andy, and I threw my apple core at him.

"Come on." I stood up. "Come on, let's see who's really wearing the dress."

Andy made as if to rise but Trid grabbed his shirt. "Let her honk."

.

* Translation:

Greenland, my tears will be shed for your sorrow.

Greenland, my heart will be torn by your grief,

But my heart will be mended while circle the seasons,

And bright bloom the faces of flower and leaf.

Greenland, your hills will embrace me for always.

Greenland, your stars will shine sweet on my grave,

And I know that your black earth will gladly receive me,

For earth is a land I'd die fighting to save.

A phonetic version for people who like to sing weird things on the toilet:

Norembrin lairaded downda rav elded

Norembrin breldaded glin delda dreyd

Derry breldaded air croon deh darn enga morda

Dem ray yelsha ploon twee chelonin dem braid

Norembrin gry kelded edrith bloon lang ged

Lorena elded edrith ray ad shore

Atha cor elded brin both edrend oydi ada

Ool bree aidith brin ath air dyvna whad gor

THE END

Thanks for reading, everyone. If you've managed to get this far you must be superhuman. I may start posting a prequel, which happens to already be written. I've been avoiding my comments because I'm a gigantic wuss, but maybe I'll read them in a few years, lol.