Authors: Usman Ijaz
“Do you know what the story behind that song
is?”
Alexis could have told her, but he hoped if he
simply ignored her, she would grow bored and leave them. He heard no replies
from the boys.
“It is about an old king of Arath-Dar and his
queen. When she found out that he had been sleeping with another woman, she
confronted him, only to have him tell her it was true. She plotted his demise
from then on, attempting to make his life as miserable as she could. In the
end, the gap between them became a wide chasm, and they could neither one of
them do anything to repair it. They spent the rest of their lives living in the
same palace, but in all the places that matter they were far apart. The once
beautiful palace became a bitter and cold place. And it was in that manner that
they died, in a palace where the chill could be felt even on a midsummer
afternoon. Thus is the tale of King Homer and his Queen, Tilas.”
She began to hum the song as they continued. It
rode on Alexis’s nerves, but he wouldn’t turn around and let her become aware
that she was affecting him in any manner. Perhaps she would go away soon. But
at least she was good company for the boys. The sun was past its noonday peak
when they came to a road. It was an old road and clearly had not been used in
some time. It was wide and in a bad state, with ruts miring it in several
areas. Alexis halted his horse on the edge of the road and drew out his map.
The road wasn’t on there he realized, but then it hardly showed them where the
ancient city was.
"What's a road doing out here?" Leah
asked.
Alexis looked up and down the dirt highway. It
continued on east, the general direction they had been going. "It may be
leading to the city," he said after a while. "A road long unused by
the looks of things."
They rode onto the dirt highway, stirring
ancient dust, and began to travel towards the general direction they had been
going. They could soon see that the road angled south slightly, passing around
hills and over the smaller ones.
The day’s heat was quickly being replaced by the
chill of the oncoming night. Alexis watched the sun sink behind the horizon,
spreading a blood-red glow across the sky, and he wondered how much time this
little venture was going to delay them. He was becoming certain that they would
have to spend the night by the road. He had said yes to Adrian because it had
seemed cruelly wrong to say no when looking at the naked desire on the boy’s
face, especially considering the boy had asked for nothing when agreeing to
come on this mission of his own will.
Alexis stopped them before the sunlight left
them completely. They made camp behind a hill, hoping to attain some protection
from the wind. Alexis and Leah gathered kindling and a few dry branches of
trees that had long ago fallen and lay dead. They made a fire, and spread their
blankets around it. Alexis and the boys stayed close to one another, and Leah
was forced to set her bed across from them on the other side of the fire. She
didn’t seem to mind. Alexis handed the boys small squares of the tough
flatbread and they shared a skin of water. Leah ate her own bread, and then
brought out small round cakes that she shared with the boys. Alexis refused.
They ate in silence.
Leah took out her harp and began to tune it.
Alexis hoped she wouldn’t play the song she had earlier that day. He studied
the map he had bought, recognizing it for the poor effort that it was. What
good was a map that showed so little?
“So, where are you two handsome lads from?” Leah
asked. Alexis glanced at her, and wondered if the boys would offer her a reply
or if their discomfort would keep them silent.
“Port Hope,” Connor said, and not without a
little pride. It was clear to Alexis the boy was still in pain, but he decided
he would let Connor judge how much he could take.
“Port Hope? I cannot say I have heard of it.
What country?”
“Grandal,” Adrian chimed in hoarsely.
“Ah. Grandal. And what of your surly companion?
Is he from there, as well?” Leah asked with a smile in her voice.
“You know I’m not,” Alexis told her without
looking up from the map.
“Well, the rumors running around Sune placed you
as either a Legionnaire, or a prince, or the blood relative of a prince, or
simply a fool. So many different titles to chose from.”
Alexis looked up to see both Connor and Adrian
smiling to themselves. He allowed that if anything the girl was at least good
company for them. He reverted to studying the map.
“So which one are you? The fool or the prince?”
“Neither one,” he told her. He was beginning to
tire of her prying questions.
“For myself, I believe you to be a fool
apprentice who stole his master's guns. Last I heard, the Legion did not allow
boys to enter their ranks.”
“And what would you know of it, girl?” Alexis
asked her in a dark mood.
“I am not a girl!” Leah declared.
The boys seemed to find their banter amusing.
They lay down in their blankets with small smiles. Alexis watched them in
sidelong glances, and he witnessed the smiles wither and die, and saw how their
forlorn gazes seemed to stretch far away, as though they dwelt on something out
of reach. Leah seemed to regain some of her composure. She settled herself to
strumming her harp. Indeed, the sound was calming, for before long the two boys
lay dozing in their blankets.
Alexis put away the map after a while and sat
staring into the dying flames. Behind him one of the horses gave a snort as it
lay down. His gaze shifted from the fire to Leah across from him. He stood and
went and sat down on the ground beside her. She watched him settle himself, and
then her attention went back to her harp.
“Who taught you how to play?” Alexis asked.
She regarded him with mistrust for a moment,
then said, “When I was ten, my parents apprenticed me to a local bard. I
learned everything I know from him.”
“What was his name?”
“Gilan of the Marshes, as he liked to be
called.”
Alexis picked a blade of grass and played with
it in a distracted manner. “You must have been very good if he decided you were
ready so quickly.”
“He-- he died,” Leah said. She spoke the words
as though admitting something to herself she didn’t particularly want to. “I
figured I had learned as much from him as I could, and I did not want to set
out with another master, so I set out by myself.”
“Are female bards very common in ...” Alexis
began, then realized he didn’t know where she was from. “Where
are
you
from?”
Leah sniffed at the question. “Wherever I want,”
she said in clear refusal of an answer.
“Hmm. Well, I imagine female bards are very
common there.”
“You do not have female bards in Grandal?”
“There are many female singers in the west, but
not many female musicians. I suspect then that you must be from somewhere
east.”
“What do you want, Alexis?” she asked him,
vexed.
Alexis let out a tired breath; so much for a
smooth conversation. “I want you to part ways with us.”
“And why should I do that?”
“Because you don’t know what you’re getting
involved in. You put yourself at risk for nothing.”
“It is my choice. I have already put myself in
danger for you, and I feel the least you can do in return is allow me to travel
along with you.”
“That’s what I don’t understand! Why would you
want to travel with us?”
“Every bard must have their tale if they are to
be remembered after their time has passed. I know that I will find mine at your
side. Gilan died without ever having crafted a tail of his own that people
remembered his name for after his death. He once told me, ‘The only immortality
to be found is through song and folklore, all else is false ambition.’ I
promised myself then that people would remember me after I died, and in
remembering me remember my old master.”
The words startled Alexis. Had Michael not said
something very familiar to him about songs and immortality? He laughed bitterly
then. “All this talk of finding your tale, and you don’t even realize you may
never have time to set it to paper if you’re caught with us.”
“Let me worry of the dangers to myself,” she
stated defiantly. “I am not seeking your approval or your consent.”
Alexis stood up and stalked back to his own
blankets. He lay on the cold ground for a long time, unable to sleep. He could
feel Leah’s eyes watching him from across the fire. At last he heard her put
away her harp and slip into her own blankets
. I can’t let her endanger us
all like this
, he thought.
My burden is heavy enough without having to
care for another
.
3
Adrian woke to the dull darkness of dawn at
Alexis’s shaking. He sat up and watched the Legionnaire move to wake Connor.
Adrian looked around and saw the shadowed shapes of the horses moving
restlessly, and Leah repacking her gear. The fire had burned down and was
reduced to glowing coals. It seemed too him that it was too early to wake up.
Much of the land was still shrouded in darkness, with morning only a hint
across the horizon. But he shook himself awake and stood up. It seemed that he
had lain down but only a few minutes ago. The cold from the earth seemed to
have seeped into him, and the chill hanging in the air didn’t do anything to
lessen it. Adrian moved to the saddle packs and found the waterskins. He drank
in small sips, hating the soreness that came awake at the act. When he was done
he carried the water skin back to where Connor sat looking morbid and handed it
over to him. Adrian picked up the blanket that had kept him partly warm through
the night, and draped it around himself as he moved closer to the smoldering
embers of the fire.
“I don’t understand why we have to be up so
early,” Leah said from where she was cinching the straps to her saddle.
“We have wasted enough time already. But if
that’s how you feel, go back to sleep,” Alexis told her.
Adrian hunkered down before the coals, trying to
attract as much of their warmth as he could. Connor came and knelt down beside
him, his own blanket draped across his shoulders. For a while they sat quietly.
“Still ... having dreams?” Connor asked
hoarsely.
Adrian worried at the sound of Connor’s voice,
it seemed to have become worse rather than better. “No,” he told him softly.
They didn’t talk much after that. When Alexis
called them to mount up they rose quietly and headed for their horse. In little
time they were riding away from the site. As Adrian glanced back, it looked to
him that but for the fire there was no sign any of them had stopped there. It
saddened him for some reason he couldn’t quite place. He grabbed hold of
Connor’s waist as his cousin led the horse over a small rise and then back onto
the old road. If not for Connor being the better rider, Adrian would have made
him change their positions. He raised his scarf to mask the dust as the horses’
hooves beat on the hard-packed road, and Connor had his up as well before long.
Alexis led them along the broken highway while Leah rode beside them.
Adrian stared ahead, but from the corner of his
eye he could see Leah looking at him. When he met her stare, she smiled and
looked ahead. But in another moment she was studying him again.
What does
she want
? he wondered. He didn’t particularly dislike her, rather he felt
he was neutral to her, but that left much room for trust and suspicion to sway.
Their recent incarceration in Sune had taught
him he couldn’t trust anyone on first sight, but did that mean he had to distrust
everyone until they proved they meant no harm? He had trusted Hamar and Owain,
certainly now that he thought of them, but who was to say about this female
bard that wouldn’t leave them?
Must everyone die to save you in order for
you to trust them?
The thought was callous and hard, and shame overwhelmed
him.
He set his mind to watching the hills and
countryside that they passed. It was easier than letting endless thoughts mull
around his head.
This used to be the land of my ancestors
, he thought.
There’s
a sense of peace to it, however faded it feels.
The sky overhead was brightening with every
minute that passed. Sunrise crept over the world from the distant horizon,
spreading like a dazzling fog. It was an odd and yet beautiful thing to see:
the dark giving way to the light. Adrian looked ahead, and saw that Alexis had
halted atop the steep rise they climbed. As they came abreast of him, Adrian
drew in a gasp.
Connor moved their horse to one side of the
Legionnaire while Leah moved her mount to the other. In that manner the small
party sat atop the crest of the hill, looking at the sight before them.
The waking sun shed everything in a dazzling
golden light. At the foot of the hill, and spreading for miles in every
direction, the ground wasn’t visible at all, save for the road that led to the
city in the center. Memory-blossoms carpeted the ground all over, large flowers
of brilliant gold that caught and held the sun's light. Their delicate wide
petals waved in the breeze like open hands. In the center of each blossom was a
small red orb. To watch the sea of blossoms move in the breeze was like
watching a sleeping beast - the rolling land seemed to be alive, breathing in
its perpetual sleep. In the center was the city, but Adrian's eyes passed over it
for the moment. The field of memory-blossoms stretched behind the city, and all
around it, making the city appear an island in a golden sea. The blossoms
spread all across the bare country that surrounded the city and disappeared out
of sight.