The Stillness of the Sky (7 page)

He cocked his head to the side, confused. “King Ormond? I thought King Alder sat on the throne.”

“Not for over a year now, Highness.”

“And Clarice is Queen, you say? I’d thought she and her sisters died years ago.”

“I…” I flushed, embarrassed by my own ignorance. “I’ve never been much concerned with court politics, Highness. I don’t know anything about Bern. Though I think I heard one of those princesses married the crown prince of Sericea around the same time the new rulers of Bern took control.”

“Leo married?” He burst out laughing. “I can’t begin to guess at the woman who won him over. Or was it arranged by his mother?”

I scoured my memory for any knowledge on the subject. Little in the way of gossip ever reached me. “Not arranged, I think. Queen Muriel passed away before they wed, if I heard correctly.”

The prince’s eyebrows bunched. “Then perhaps the tribes of the north have been up in arms. Are they trying to push back the Litania border again?”

Leaning back in my chair, I studied him. He really didn’t know? “Highness, King Ivor declared war on the giants two years past. He means to drive them out, but I’ve not heard his reasons.”

Prince Aaron paled and slumped. “He did what?” he said in a whisper.

“Everyone knows about this, Sire. How is it you don’t?”

He swallowed hard and rubbed his mouth, still in disbelief. “I’d not thought he’d go so far… Why would he do such a thing? Litania must be in a shambles for it.”

Clearly the man knew something I didn’t, though that wasn’t overly difficult to achieve. “The eastern half of the kingdom isn’t a pretty place these days, though everyone’s affected. He pulls boys barely old enough to hold a sword to replenish his armies, which makes it difficult to keep fields tended and livestock fed and cared for. Taxes are high to keep the army supplied, and folks are as short on kindness as they are on money of late. Myself, I can’t help with the money, but I give kindness where I can and thank the spirits that I’m able to.”

“And you still came here, even knowing of the war?”

I shrugged. “Didn’t know what was up here. Once I figured it out, I decided to keep out of sight and have a look around. I thought, if nothing else, I’d have a story to tell if I ever got back down.”

His eyes rested on me, as if seeing me in a new light. “But you didn’t keep out of sight.”

“Well, I couldn’t walk away if there was a chance I could help,” I said, defensive. “I couldn’t imagine too many others came here, so I might’ve been your only chance to get away. I didn’t know you wanted to be stuck in a cage. What sort of person would?”

He sighed and swirled a pepper strip in the paste. “Someone trying to help his people by giving them a better leader, that’s what sort.”

I frowned. “Highness?”

Prince Aaron ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “It’s a bit of a long story.”

The doors of the study opened, and Lady Oria entered, her heavy footfalls rattling the bars of the cage slightly. “All rested up?” she asked as she placed an enormous cup of tea on the table.

As she sat, I looked at Prince Aaron, seeing the worry on his face. “Nearly,” he said. “Did you know about my father’s war?”

She shrugged. “Of course. It’s a silly effort. He’ll never succeed in driving out the giants. There’s been but a few losses for us, so I think he’ll see the folly in it soon. I imagine the people are growing rather tired of that business and will oust him soon enough.”

“Oust him?” I gaped at her. “Are things so bad in the east?”

She sipped her tea and considered it. “A group of giants crushed an entire village after soldiers managed to take the life of one of my people. The hope was that it would show King Ivor we won’t be moved and trying to force us to do so was futile. Unfortunately, it had rather the opposite effect.” She shook her head sadly. “He lost so many men in the days after that, but the attack came from him, not us. We’ve not wanted anything but peace in hundreds of years. The man’s impossible to reason with.”

I shrunk in my seat, hoping to make myself so small they’d forget I was there. Would I be a prisoner now? Would she let me leave if I promised to tell no one of what I found here? If the cage was unlocked, perhaps I could sneak away…

“Enough of that bothersome news,” Lady Oria said with a wave of her hand. “I’ve been patient enough, I think. Let’s have some music.”

Prince Aaron stood without complaint, though his face betrayed his concerns. “As you wish, My Lady.”

Food curdled in my gut. If I displeased the giantess, what would she do to me? She’d already threatened to grind my bones for her bread, but a myriad of other possibilities for death swirled inside my head, the least terrible of which was being flung from the edge of the floating garden.

“Lady Wallace,” Prince Aaron said with a flourishing bow as he indicated one of the empty chairs in the center of the cage, “our audience awaits.”

Trembling and trying to hide it, I stood and moved toward him. Each step I took made my bones quiver as though they were naught but pudding, and a cold sweat beaded on my brow. His smile did nothing to ease my worry, and I sank into the seat unsure if I even remembered how to move my tongue. As he tuned his lute, I tried to remember words to even one song, but even their titles flew from my mind like startled birds.

“Now then,” he said, “what will you have? Are there any you’re particularly fond of?”

I shook myself a little. I could only think of one, but it would spell disaster for me if I wrecked it. Without any better options, I blurted out, “The Lost Love of Falinor Meadow. The one you played before.”

His eyebrows shot up, surprised. “That’s a difficult song to sing. You’re certain of your choice?”

I gulped, but nodded.

“It has words, too?” Lady Oria exclaimed, excited. “Oh, I must hear them. Such a heartbreaking melody.”

Fully aware I was possibly digging my own grave, I nodded again. Prince Aaron let out a resigned exhale, but gave no further protest. As he strummed the opening chord, I shut my eyes, remembering the morning with my mother in the barn, calling up the words in my memory.

With a deep breath, I began. The story of two brothers growing up by the banks of a river and the girl who caught their fancy unfolded before me. Her hair the color of sunshine, her laughter like music, the touch of her hand as a warm summer breeze… I described all of these, losing myself in the winding melody. Returning from war, the brothers found her again, but time away had made their hearts grow fonder for her and their patience with each other shorter. They soon came to blows over her hand in marriage, but she loved only the younger of the two. As they argued in their home, she went in hopes of stopping them, of reminding them of their love for one another, yet their violence would not be halted. A candle toppled, fire engulfed the house, and the brothers fought on in the yard. A scream ripped through the night, and the younger brother, distracted by the sound, was run through by the eldest’s sword. The eldest ran to the house, forgoing his dying brother, to save the girl from the flames. When she saw what had been done, she sobbed and beat against him, running to the other when she was free. He died in her arms as she wailed, inconsolable by any means. Before the eldest could stop her, she flung herself into the lake, overcome by grief and loss, drowning herself and joining the younger brother in death. Having lost everything he cared about, the elder brother lived out his days in lonely solitude, his heart finally giving out in his sleep one night. Yet his guilt and pain remained, his ghost wandering the banks of the lake, still calling out for the two people he loved more than anything else in the world.

When I finished the song, I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. No echoes of the lute rang in the air as they should, but a single look at Prince Aaron showed me why. The instrument laid at his feet, put there as I sang. He held his face in his hands, silent sobs shaking his shoulders, accompanied by the occasional shuddering sniffle. Amazed at this, I looked to Lady Oria. The front of her dress was entirely soaked, the tears still streaming down her cheeks in great rivulets. What happened? Was my performance so terrible that it merited silence and sorrow?

Thinking quickly, I thought perhaps a simpler tune would appease them. I snatched up the lute, remembering the few lessons my mother gave me before my father sold the instrument, and jumped into a song about a clever rabbit outwitting a fox. Laughter erupted from my audience, and I cringed. They doubled over, guffawing as I sang through the final verse, and I was sure all was lost. Not only had I reduced them to tears over my terrible performance, but they laughed that I dared to continue. Mortified, I finished the song and leaned the lute up against the side of my chair, staring at my hands in heated embarrassment for my display. I almost wished the giantess would fling me into the sky at that moment. At least then I wouldn’t feel so thoroughly ridiculous ever again.

Prince Aaron was the first to recover his breath while Lady Oria sucked in huge gasps or air trying to stifle her giggles. “How…” he began, pausing for another inhale. “How are you doing that? Are you a witch?”

I blinked at him, dumbfounded by the question. “A witch, Sire?”

He reached over and took my hands, his eyes gleaming with tears of both sadness and merriment. My face burned crimson at his demeanor, completely unsure of what he was playing at. “Your talent astounds me, Jack. How is it you enchant me so thoroughly?”

My head spun and my mouth worked at words. “I… What?”

“You must stay with us!” Lady Oria exclaimed. “To hear such music all the time… I’d be the envy of all the world!”

“You’ve been truly blessed, Jack,” the prince continued. “I was given my gift with the lute upon my naming day by my godmother, but you… I’ve not heard such music in all my days as what you’ve gifted us with. To stir such emotion with the simplest of songs, and have such mastery of a ballad as the first, have you trained your entire life?”

Beyond disbelief, all I could do was stare, vaguely aware that he still held my hands. “Trained? I’ve never… You mean you didn’t hate it?”

“Hate it?” The giantess gasped. “Not since I heard Aaron’s playing have I been so moved by song. Do you not perform for the king’s court?”

At that, I burst out in loud laughter. “Perform for the king? No, My Lady. For our cows before they were taken from me, but never human ears. Surely I’m not so special as all that.”

“Cows?” the prince said, at last releasing my hands and sitting back. “Where is it you come from, Jack?”

I looked from one to the other, uncertain of their actual interest in my story, but they seemed very keen to hear it. Hesitant, I began, telling them of my father, taking the cows to market, and my subsequent journey upon discovering what the man intended for me when I returned. Their expressions shifted from sadness, to horror, to speechlessly enthralled as I recounted it, though I couldn’t for the life of me imagine what held them so raptly attentive.

When I finished, they slumped back in their chairs simultaneously.

The prince shook his head in disbelief. “You astound me again. Do you really not know what you are?”

I chuckled. “What I am, Highness? I’m only a girl. What else is there?”

“I think you’re correct, Aaron,” the giantess said. “I’ve only met one once before, but she’s like him sure as I’m breathing.”

Prince Aaron looked at me, his green eyes sparkling. “You’re a Bard, Jack. And not of the average sort, like a minstrel. You’ve been blessed from birth with innate abilities in music and storytelling. It’s very rare, but I’ve seen them a handful of times. And you say your father had none of these talents?”

“I… No, Sire,” I said, hardly believing his words. “Not as he ever showed me.”

He frowned. “It’s typically inherited from a parent, often accompanied by a burning need for travel. Your mother then, what of her?”

Like a bucketful of icy winter water dousing me, his question made me sit up straight, instantly attentive. “My mother?”

He nodded. “Did you not know her?”

“She left when I was nine, Highness,” I replied, my mouth dry. “I’ve not seen her since, though she begged me to come away with her then.”

“Do you remember if she sang or told stories?”

I nodded. “She did, but I’d never thought it unusual.”

“Do you know where she went?”

Shaking my head, I sighed. “No, but I’ve missed her greatly. I never blamed her for leaving, as it was always my choice to stay.”

He leaned forward on his knees, grinning at me. “If you intend to travel further, I daresay you’ll find her again. Bards are highly prized, and courted for performances by every royal house in the world. Once a Bard begins putting on shows, I’ve heard they find it impossible to stop. It’s amazing your mother stayed in one place as long as she did, if she was half as gifted as you.”

My mother, a Bard? As in, we were both of a magical bent? The idea seemed ridiculous, yet, knowing what I did about my mother, it felt unquestionably true. Her lullabies and stories when I was a child consistently put me to sleep without fail, and her songs during my wakeful hours kept me in high spirits as we worked the land. I’d always known of her talents, but I’d never heard about Bards such as he spoke of.

I yawned, suddenly overcome by crushing fatigue. “Pardon me,” I said, covering my mouth. “It’s been a very long day.”

“Oh, you must be exhausted, poor thing,” Lady Oria said as she jumped to her feet. The movement rocked the table, and with it, my chair, doing nothing for my exhaustion. “Let me fetch another trundle for you to sleep in.” She bounded out of the room, hefting her skirts to keep from tripping over them in her haste.

“There’s no need for so much trouble on my account,” I said as I yawned again. My head felt fuzzy, so I leaned it back against the chair, my eyes already drooping closed.

“There now,” Prince Aaron said, his voice kind, soothing me further. “Rest yourself. The magic is draining, and you need to sleep. Don’t worry over a thing.”

I made to say something to him, but my words jumbled on my tongue and I couldn’t manage it. I was fast asleep before Lady Oria could return.