Merlin's Harp (7 page)

  I smiled close-mouthed. "What is your name?"

  "Aefa."

  "Aefa, do you know me?"

  Nod. "You are a mage. You live on Apple Island with the Lady."

  "My name is Niviene," I told her. "The Lady is my mother."

  "Your mother that birthed you?"

  I nodded.

  "I don't know my mother."

  "I do not know my father."

  "Oh," said Aefa, and tossed her head, "no one knows their father."

  "That's quite true. But I would like to know, wouldn't you?"

  Bathing my even-toed feet, combing my coarse hair, sometimes I wondered where they both came from. And my even-lengthed fingers, were those maybe Human? Merlin had such fingers, and Merlin was half Human. So I had sometimes wondered, spying on the villagers, if they might maybe be my cousins. But I would never know.

  Aefa said, "No, I don't care about my father. I would like to know my mother. But Lady, I wondered if…" She twisted her small body. "If you…"

  "What?"

  "I wondered if you might teach me."

  Aha!

  "I saw you make the fire. You knew I was up there all the time, didn't you?"

  I nodded gravely.

  "I'm a Mouse Spy, the best there is. But when I leave the Guard I want to be a mage, like you. Teach me! I will serve you well."

  "Aefa," I said solemnly, "I have spirit servants. What service can you offer that they cannot?"

  "Um." She twisted her small body thoughtfully. Then, "Spirits can't handle things. Real things. I can run and steal things for you. I can kill the white doe for you, that one over there."

  "Don't do that. She and I are friends for now."

  "Then I won't."

  "What I want now, Aefa, is a gown for the Flowering Moon dance. Can you steal me a white gown?"

  "Easily!"

  "And an apple blossom crown."

  "Right away!"

  "The day after the dance I will show you the first step."

  "What's the first step?"

  "To be quiet."

  "Oh." Disappointed. "Just to be quiet?"

  "You will find that enough to learn. And, Aefa, I would like food tomorrow. Human food. Bread and cheese and…a nip of ale."

  "As good as done!" Aefa smiled a surprisingly charming smile, and vanished. She was in truth a Mouse Spy. I could have vanished no more cleanly myself. I turned back to my fire. I had lost time talking with Aefa; the fire was already dying. But in the sputtering ashes I saw a giant knight ride toward me on a great charger. Speared on his lance he carried a great red flower; he dipped his lance to me and I accepted the flower.

  In the last embers I saw Dana. She stood as in the mosaic, hand on flower, back toward me. In a turning flame she turned to face me, and she was Elana.

  My little fire fizzled. Black smoke drifted up and over me like Elana's cloud.

  My brother had gone away, never to return.

  I said this over and over. Firmly I told my heart,
He will not
return.
If I could accept this the pain would pass through and beyond me. But my heart cried,
No! No!
And beat back the pain. And so the pain circled me like a serpent.

  My world stood empty. Lugh had shone over my life as moon shines over forest, and I had not even known it! I shut my eyes, rocked from side to side and clenched my fists. Doubled over, I felt a light hand on my shoulder.

  My spirit leaned over me and whispered,
Breathe.

  I breathed deeply. The spring air was real and sweet, though Lugh had gone away.

  My spirit said,
Be quiet.

  "Is that all ?" I asked. "Only be quiet ?"

  
You will find that enough to learn.

  A long time later I opened my eyes and saw the white doe still stepping about under the beeches, almost as quiet as a ghost.

* * *

White-robed and flower-crowned by Aefa, I perched on the lowest branch of a vine-laddered oak near the river. I watched the Flowering Moon rise, and listened to distant drums.

  In glades from here to the west edge of the forest the Fey were gathering to dance. Their drums were soft, like heartbeats, not much louder than the crackling fires the dancers circle. They were coming by coracle down many a stream. They were coming on foot along many a game trail. I thought the Lady must be poling away from Avalon now, arrayed in shimmering robes, Merlin's best gifts. I thought that somewhere Elana must be moving toward the nearest drum, and breathed a spell for her, that some man at the dance might help her forget my brother.

  If Mellias were here he would dance tonight in swinging otter skins and antlers. His eyes would glint this way and that, searching for me. Mellias had long desired me, and tonight I thought I might desire him. Throughout my body I felt a warming and softening I had never known before.

  But Mellias was out in the kingdom playing Lugh's deaf servant. He might be lying in straw, or scrubbing crocks. He might not even see the Flowering Moon through the roof and walls around him! If he saw or felt the Moon he might bed some serving girl, like Yseult's "maid." But she had better beware, poor fool! Out in the kingdom the Goddess's best gifts can curse.

  I wanted to make my way toward the nearest drum, but a voice in my head told me,
Wait.

  So I waited for I knew not what, sitting so still in the oak a passing owl brushed my face with his wing. I might have taken that for a warning.

  Far off, three drums spoke and answered each other. Close at hand, a nightingale trilled. Beyond that, a threatening voice bawled.

  Was it Fey, Human or animal? Did it come or go?

  It yawped rhythmically, savagely, always nearer. I drew my feet up on the branch and wished my gown were dun-colored. I must stand out in shadow like the white doe.

  Something crashed, thumped, and panted through underbrush. Something rushed past under my branch.

  My white doe. I glimpsed wide eyes and ears laid back; I smelled terror. Three breaths later she splashed into the river.

  The oncoming voice belonged to a hunting hound in full cry. I had never heard it before, for Humans did not hunt our forest. But I recognized it from stories. The hound might be lost and searching his own meat. Or Human hunters might follow him. How could either dog or hunters have passed the Children's Guard?

  Gods, the Guard had gone dancing! It was left for me to handle this invasion, armed only with the knife in my belt.

  I scrambled down the oak, plucked up my gown in both hands and ran to the river.

  There swam the white doe upstream, silver head and shoulders trailing a silver wake. I called to her, "Sister, I guard the trail!" Standing astride her trail I drew my knife and faced the great hound that came rushing.

  Nose to earth, baying, he ran almost into my feet. I had the knife ready to plunge when he jerked back, trembled, and growled.

  Underbrush cracked behind him.

  The hound stood tall as the doe, dark-coated, stinking. I exerted my aura and let it stab the air, burning like green fire. I felt it tingle and glow, and the hound saw it. Puzzled, he drew back and crouched. This technique had turned boar and wolf before; I was pleased to see it work on a dog, who lives with Humans and might be harder to turn. But would it work on the Human who now stepped out of shadow?

  No; for he, a mere Human, could not see my aura.

  He came alone, one panting, sweating hunter, smelling like his dog; a big man, a giant. Sweat gleamed in his dark curls and beard. Metal gleamed at his throat, on his hands. He strode toward us, then stopped and made a hand sign I did not then recognize. "God's blood!" he panted, and backed off two steps.

  I stood firmly across his path, grinning openmouthed, gown and teeth and ready blade glistening in moonlight. I was set to take him with my knife; I had marked where to stick it, and crouched to leap, when I saw his resolve crumble.

  He paled, his mouth fell open. Again he hand-signed, sketching a magic design in the air between us, and drew back another step.

  I knew then what he thought. I laughed openmouthed. I need not sacrifice my life to take his. The wise deceptions of the Fey, practiced for generations on his kind, had disarmed him without a blow.

  I could play with him. Quietly I asked, "Stranger, do you seek the dance?"

  "Dance?" He held one hand outstretched, ready to sign again. (Now I realized he was signing against evil, calling his Gods to his aid.) A great, heavy ring shone on his meaty third finger.

  "You hear the drums. Do you seek to dance with the Fey?"

  He shuddered visibly. "Lady." He gulped. "You know well that I seek the white deer. I will gladly give up that chase."

  Now, that was a brave admission! Thinking I was myself the white deer, transformed—or she was me—he confessed to the hunt.

  His courage interested me. I studied him. The drums beat, my blood stirred and beat; the Flowering Moon sailed high.

  I need not go to the dance. Mellias would not be there. And here the Goddess had delivered a strong, handsome, terrified man into my hands. Human, to be sure. But I would be far from the first Fey to couple with a Human.

  Now I smiled close-mouthed, sheathing my teeth. I glided to him and gripped his large wrist in both hands. He leapt like a shot hare. Sweetly I smiled up at him. "Come," I cooed, "you are tired from the hunt. Come with me and rest." I led him back to the great oak. His dog followed us, growling and whining.

  Among the reaching oak roots we sat down together. My man was pale; his teeth were chattering. If he were to do much for me he would need reassurance. I leaned against his side and murmured, "Now. Tell me about you."

  "About me."

  "Not your name, I need not know that." His shoulders relaxed half a finger. He thought if I knew his name I could magic him anytime, from any distance. He was beginning to hope he might live through this.

  "Tell me…" I was getting the solid feel of him now. Overwhelming. "How did you come here?"

  "You know I followed…you."

  "Did no one warn you?"

  "Yes. Yes, I was warned. No one would follow me."

  "Yet you came."

  "Lady," he said with forlorn pride, "I am a warrior."

  And so he was, in truth! I could not see his aura in the evening shadow, but it poured over me like a waterfall, vibrant, powerful, tingling. This was a Human hero. Merlin sang tales of just such men as this.

  I murmured, "I led you here because I want you." And I stretched up and kissed his bearded cheek.

  His shoulders slipped a bit looser. Hope—and energy—grew in him.

  "Tell me now, Man, where are you from? Your speech tells me you come from far away." So did his moving aura, his ring, and the wide metal collar that almost circled his neck.

  Sure now of my immediate intentions, he found voice. He fed me a wonderful story that Merlin should have sung, of humble beginnings and violent adventures, of a mage and a lady who gave him a magic sword, with which he killed nine hundred enemy Saxons in a single battle, and so became chief of his people.

  I suspected he was no more the chief than I was the white doe. But the tale was true in spirit, he was a true warrior, such as Humans and bards admire. And I was a hotly eager virgin, and the moon sailed high, and the drums beat. I wound my fingers among his coarse curls. "And what do you do now?"

  "I fight Saxons. Holding the Saxons back from our lands is my lifework."

  The only lifework I knew belonged to women, daughters of the Goddess. The thought that a man might claim a lifework was new to me.

  "I thought you killed all the Saxons."

  "Always, more come."

  "You always win these battles?"

  "I would not be here if I did not."

  And he was here, strong and warm, huge and foolish. His smell was not good, but the rising smell of my own lust covered that. Like most Humans, he probably carried fleas and lice. I could deal with those later.

  Very courteously he asked me, "Is this what you want? You are sure?" For, of course, if he displeased me I could turn him into a hedgehog.

  Vinelike, I twined around him. His dog lay down to watch us, head on paws. Far off the drums beat. Nearer, the nightingale sang.

* * *

The Lady Nimway took occasional Human lovers. Afterward she would send them straight into the small, cruel hands of the Children's Guard. "Walk north along the stream," she might say. "That will bring you out of the forest." And the man, who half-expected to be turned into a stoat, would kiss her hands and walk north till a poisoned dart found his throat.

  No Human lover of hers ever returned to his hearth, or to the wife watching for him at the door. No true tale of our forest and its trails ever reached the kingdom. For when we Fey deal this way with Humans, the rule is Love and Death. First love, then death.

  At first light I rose on my elbow and looked my man over. Hair and beard were black, skin faintly brown; embroidered red and black dragons adorned his fine wool tunic; his collar was a golden torque. His sleeping aura pulsed, a strong, rich orange. Gods, I thought, maybe he really is a chief! Well, never mind that. What do I do with him?

  He woke. At sight of me his gray eyes jerked wide. He had expected me to vanish with the moon.

  I laughed, close-mouthed. "I am still here." He sat up and looked down at himself. "You are still here." I assured him. No roots grew from his feet, nor wings from his shoulders.