The Moonshawl: A Wraeththu Mythos Novel (13 page)

‘Ember Whitemane,’ I said aloud.
‘Like a poem.’

He grinned again. ‘You’re right.
Just like that. Wyvachi are a clag-heap of muddled words. We are poems.’ With
that, he clucked to his horse, who lifted its graceful head and then he was
trotting out into the sunlight, towards the river.

I felt breathless, as if I’d
been punched.

I went back to my tower and began to drink a bottle
of wine, one of several that Rinawne had brought over the previous evening. I
was disorientated, excited... Surely no coincidence that har had been there;
he’d been waiting for me. The Whitemanes were playing a game. I must take care,
and not be drawn into the feud between the families. Yet I could not stop
thinking about Ember Whitemane. That he was beautiful beyond normal beauty was
obviously a factor, but it was also the allure of the Whitemanes, their
mystery. Having talked to him, I realised I felt privileged to have done so.
Craziness! In the past I had several times become obsessed by surface beauty
and it had always ended in catastrophe of one sort of another. Not least
because beauty is simply a mask, an adornment, and what lies beneath it might
not be so comely. Beauty does not guarantee accord; it is a blinding flash that
can leave you sightless for a long time, and then when sight does return, the
world has turned to ashes, your land is dead. I could see so clearly that Ember
Whitemane might have that same effect on me; I was prone to it. At least now I
was more aware of that weakness. It was as if the Whitemanes knew me intimately
and how to manipulate me. But, as with Rinawne, I had their measure.

Restless and needing company, I rode over to Meadow
Mynd in the late afternoon, hoping for an invitation to dinner and company
through the evening. This was the first time I’d ridden to the house and Hercules
seemed almost shocked when I fetched him in from the field. I fastened him into
his bridle but left the saddle off. Whitemanes rode without saddles.

Rinawne was in the garden playing
with Myv, and while surprised to see me, welcomed me warmly. ‘What brings you
here, esteemed hienama?’ he asked as we led Hercules to the stables.

‘I want to talk with Wyva. I
didn’t mention it to you before, but somehar in Gwyllion has asked me to
perform a blood-bond. I think the question of the permanent hienama must be
discussed. I also mentioned this to Gen when we dined together. Do you know if
he told Wyva about it?’

Rinawne linked arms with me. ‘Not
that I know of, but then he’d be unlikely to tell me, anyway. You know that
Wyva wants
you
, and
he
knows you don’t want to take the job on.
But he won’t give up. He feels you’re an old friend already, and he’d be
uncomfortable with somehar new.’

I snorted impatiently. ‘Oh come
on, Rin. There must be at least one har in the whole tribe who would make a
good hienama. Why get somehar from outside anyway? Come to that – as I said to
Gen – why doesn’t Wyva just perform the rites of passage and lead festivals
himself? It’s hardly difficult work. You just need a script and I can provide
as many of those as he likes.’ I decided not to mention what Gen had told me
concerning the order Rey had given Wyva before leaving the community.

Rinawne made a flippant gesture
with one hand. ‘Wyva is fixed in his ways. He thinks we should have a proper
hienama, and that’s that with him. I doubt you’ll persuade him otherwise.’

‘Well, what makes a proper
hienama? I had to train once and knew nothing when I started. All that’s required
is the desire to learn and to care about the hara around you in a spiritual
sense.’ I felt hypocritical saying all that, given how my pastoral care of a
community had ended up, but despite my flaws, I believed what I said was the
truth. I just hadn’t lived up to the standard very well.

‘He wants
you
, Ysobi,’
Rinawne said, grinning at me. ‘Learn to live with that and go from there. In my
opinion, get somehar from outside for us and work alongside him for a few
months. That might mollify our demanding phylarch.’

‘He wants me, yet so many secrets
are kept from me,’ I couldn’t help saying.

‘Well,’ Rinawne began, ‘if you’d
commit yourself, you might be trusted enough to know some of these secrets. Perhaps
there’s more likelihood of that for you than there’ll ever be for me. Had you
considered that?’

‘All right. I get your point.
But it was never my plan to settle here.’

Rinawne raised a hand to his
brow flamboyantly, threw back his head, and pantomimed sorrow. ‘Ah, you think
so lowly of me, Ysobi. I am nothing to you.’

‘Don’t say that. You know what I
mean.’ I squeezed his arm. ‘You’ve been a healing draught for me. Don’t ever think
it’s not appreciated.’

‘Well, being a medicine is
perhaps almost as good as being an object of adoration, I suppose.’

‘Rin, just stop it. I love being
here and have no plans to leave any time soon, but even so, I don’t want to be
a hienama in that way again. I enjoy the freedom of not being one. You must
surely be able to imagine what it’s like being on call for every soul around,
twenty-four hours a day.’

He nodded. ‘For sure. I
understand. I’m just larking.’ We had reached the stables and Rinawne let go of
me. ‘Myv, you take Ysobi into the house and I’ll see to the beastie.’

Myv nodded gravely and –
astonishingly – took my hand in his. The harling had wandered silently behind
us and I’d forgotten he was there. Had I said anything imprudent that young
ears could hear and young lips repeat? I didn’t think so, but it unnerved me to
think how invisible Myv had been.

The harling didn’t speak as he
led me to the back door of the house, half a pace ahead of me. He was humming
to himself, and it seemed to me that the tune was very similar to one I’d
composed for the festival that I’d revealed only to Wyva. Perhaps Wyva had
remembered it and sung it to him. When we reached the door, Myv paused, one
hand on the handle. ‘I’d do it,’ he said.

‘What?’ Other than the brief
greeting on my first night here, I don’t think I’d ever heard him speak before,
but then, had I really been listening?

‘The hienama job. I’d do it.’

‘Really, Myv? That’s, well...
thank you for telling me. But you’re a bit young as yet.’

‘We don’t always stay young
though, do we,’ he said, opening the door.

I followed him into the cool dim
corridor beyond, which lay behind the kitchens. ‘No, that’s true. If you’re serious,
I could speak to your parents about it. There are some things I could teach you
now for later in life.’

‘I’d like to do that job very
much,’ Myv said.

I was so taken aback by his
words I wasn’t sure what to say. He was a harling; he might change his mind as
he grew. But to belittle his desires now was a bad thing, I knew that much,
even though harling-care had never figured greatly in my life. ‘OK, let’s talk
about it, then,’ I said.

‘I used to help Rey all the
time,’ Myv continued. He’d let go of my hand now, as we approached the family
part of the house. ‘I’d help him gather things from the forest floor, and he’d
teach me rhymes that the birds can understand. He taught me how to beguile fleas
and sing to them so they leave a dog’s coat.’

I laughed. ‘Not even I can do
that! How interesting.’

‘He knows lots of stuff like
that,’ Myv said. ‘I wish he was still here. He was my friend, and...’ He
frowned a little. ‘He seemed more my age than Porter does.’

It occurred to me then that Rey
should have resisted his urge to live the life of a hermit and perhaps waited
for Myv’s feybraiha and transferred the hienama role to him. What difference
would an extra couple of years have made, when he could have bestowed a
wonderful gift to the hara he left behind? I felt now that Rey was impulsive
and selfish, a dreamer. He might have known the ways of the land and spoken
with it, but he’d neglected the more mundane aspect of his duties, his
responsibilities. I was impatient with that. But then, had he perhaps already started
training Myv with the little things he’d taught the harling? Was I being too
harsh? Did he
have
to get away quickly, had no choice? More mysteries.

I waited until after dinner before I approached
Wyva. ‘May I speak to you alone?’ I asked him as we rose from our seats.

‘Of course,’ he responded,
smiling. ‘Let’s go to the library.’

Rinawne winked at me as we
departed and mouthed ‘good luck’. I would no doubt need it.

In the library, Wyva fussed
about getting us the right kind of drink, which was missing from the cabinet
where he kept his liquor. I told him I really didn’t mind what I was given, but
he was deaf to that. So it took some minutes of househar calling and the
tracking down of the particular pear liqueur Wyva wanted, which was eventually
discovered in the kitchen where Dillory the cook had employed it to flavour a
pudding.

‘Ridiculous,’ Wyva said, once
the bottle was safely in his hand. ‘It’s not meant for cooking. At least he
didn’t use it all.’

The liqueur was indeed very good
and warmed my insides beautifully. I complimented Wyva upon it.

‘The recipe has been handed down
for generations through our family,’ he said. ‘For hundreds of years.’

I glanced askance at the glass I
held. He meant his human ancestors. ‘Amazing,’ I said inadequately.

‘But no doubt your hara have
similar recipes, given the main trade of Jesith.’

‘Yes, they have a few, but none
that old – that I know of.’

We both sipped reverently in
silence for a few moments. Then Wyva asked, ‘So what is it you wished to speak
to me about? The festival?’

I put down my glass on the table
next to my chair. ‘No, that’s all in hand. This is more to do with the hienama
problem.’

Wyva stared at me
expressionlessly. ‘What are your thoughts on it?’

‘Well, you know how I feel about
doing the job myself, but I do consider it important I find somehar to fill
that role for you properly. I’ve thought about writing to my friends in Kyme,
as perhaps Gen might have told you, but really I believe the har should come
from your own community. Today, an astonishing thing was revealed to me.’

Wyva raised his brows. ‘What
astonishing thing?’

‘Myv told me he wants to do the
job. It seems Rey might have started training him for such a role. Myv told me about
some of what Rey’s taught him. He does seem very keen, even though he is so
young.’

‘You’re right, that
is
astonishing,’
Wyva said. He narrowed his eyes a little. ‘Even if I approved of this, and it
could be done, Myv is far too young, not yet at feybraiha. Are you proposing
you stay with us here until he’s old enough and will train him then?’

‘Well... I hadn’t really
considered that aspect.
Do
you approve of it... in principle?’

Wyva sighed through his nose,
took another sip of his liqueur. ‘Myv is a...
strange
little harling. It’s
come as a great surprise to me he spoke to you at all, never mind revealed all
this. I suppose you’re right – he must be very keen if he felt able, or was
driven, to talk to you about it. But it warms me to know that he has ambitions,
and is in that way...
normal
. He did spend nearly all his time with Rey,
and was very upset when Rey went away. I hadn’t even thought he might have been
teaching Myv. It’s certainly something to think about.’

‘How far off feybraiha is Myv?’
I asked.

‘Oh, I don’t know. It’s
difficult to tell, isn’t it? He’s older than he looks so maybe just a year or
so, but then he is
behind
with some things, so I’d always thought it
might take longer with him.’

I thought then that Wyva talked
about his son as if he were a horse or a dog, who had suddenly displayed unexpected
levels of intelligence and capability. He certainly did not talk like a
hostling, who nearly always had strong bonds with their offspring, often more
so than the father. Poor little Myv. He seemed a neglected creature to me. I
thought about harlings in Jesith and how cherished and
included
they
were. ‘Perhaps you should talk about it with Rinawne,’ I said. ‘Even though
Myv’s not yet mature, he can start learning. As I said, it seems Rey had
already begun the process. He knows how to charm fleas!’

Both Wyva and I laughed at this.

I was rather surprised Wyva had
taken my suggestion this well, so blundered on, hoping to keep him in this
compliant mood. ‘In the meantime, perhaps I could help
you
with learning
how to conduct everyday hienama duties, such as namings, bondings, and so on.
Leading festivals is easy enough if you have a script.’

‘No, that’s not possible,’ Wyva
said in an even voice. ‘Please don’t ask more; it’s simply not possible.’

‘OK. Perhaps one of your
brothers would consider it? Just until Myv is old enough?’

‘Maybe.’ Wyva sighed and pressed
the fingers of one hand against his eyes. ‘Oh Ysobi, I can sense your
impatience with us. I don’t mean to obstruct you. It’s just...’ He lowered his
hand, looked down at empty hearth. ‘Well, I can’t go into it, I’m sorry. As you
said, it can’t be that difficult to follow a script. It’s the obvious answer.
Somehar must surely be happy to do that until Myv is ready.’

‘I think it’s important you find
somehar sooner rather than later,’ I said softly. ‘And I think you know why.’

Wyva raised his eyes, fixed me
with a gaze. ‘What do you mean?’

I hadn’t wanted to say it, and
even now wasn’t sure how to phrase it. ‘Because... because others might slither
in to fill the hole that Rey left behind, and not be of your choosing. I think
we both know that in a small measure this is already happening.’

Wyva expressed another heavy
sigh. ‘I
do
know what you mean,’ he said. ‘I’ve tried to ignore it.
Wrong of me. You’re right in every way. Thank you.’ He smiled at me warmly.
‘This is why I wish it could be you.’