The Book of the Burning

CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN

CONCLUSION

“I’m so happy,” Kenneth said. “But afraid too. Does that make any sense?”

A day or so before, Arvad would have said no. When Austin was here, there was only happiness. There was a little bit of an ache when he was gone, but happiness when they were in bed.

“Yes,” Arvad said.

“But not completely happy,” Kenneth continued. “I want to be completely happy. I want to not be afraid. I’m weary of fear. I’m sick of it, and I think I felt it most of my life. Though I can’t remember most of my life.”

“What do you think you were?” Arvad asked. “What you were was what my master was. He was unhappy too. When I first met him there was something in his eyes. He laughed a lot. But there was something in his eyes.”

Kenneth sat up in bed. They were in the darkness, and Arvad said. “There is something in yours too.”

“You take it away,” Kenneth said. “When I think of you it goes away.”

Then he said, “I am afraid I rely too much on you.”

“No!” Arvad’s voice was sharp. He said, “No. You don’t. We have to… depend on someone. You know?”

From the other side of the room they shared, Kenneth nodded in the dark, but Arvad couldn’t see a nod. Instead what he heard was Kenneth say, “I think before I was feeling fear I must have been feeling nothing at all. I must have been dead for a long time. I think I did terrible things. I know I did.”

Just then there was a scream, and the two of them leapt from their beds, Kenneth touching the knife he always kept at his side. Instantly, and perhaps instinctively, his hand went across Arvad’s chest, and he placed his body before him. Even in the fear there was something that welled up in the farmboy, seeing Kenneth’s protective arm.

“Stay behind me,” Kenneth told him, and they moved down the hall. But at the steps they heard laughter, and then Dissenbark shouting, “Come down! Come down!”

Kenneth looked at Arvad and Arvad shrugged. The two young men went down the long steps and in the kitchen there was Soren.

“Master! Mehta!” Arvad cried. “And Masters Ohean and Anson! All of You. Lady Theone! Austin! I never thought to see any of you again?”

“And altogether?” Dissenbark began. “But…”

“It’s such a long story,” Theone said, pulling out a chair from the table and sitting down, exhausted. “We will talk of it all over breakfast.”

“That is the thing,” Soren said, and he told them the whole long story. They all stood up for it, not moving, and Soren left out unnecessary details while Dissenbark shook her head.

She went to the pantry and Soren and Mehta followed her.

“She has said much of you,” said Mehta. “And you have kept house so well, but rest your feet. We are here now.

 “I’ve been separated from them all too long,” Dissenbark said, handing Mehta the flower. “I must be with Theone. And you, you were her man. You are her man?”

Soren hid his eyes at this.

“What?” Dissenbark said.

“I don’t know if that’s still true.”

“It is,” Dissenbark said.

They returned to the kitchen where Arvad was speaking.

“This is Kenneth. He has been staying with us.”

Soren’s nostrils flared when he saw the young man, and the two fhem stood looking at each other before Theone said, flatly, “He was a Hand.”

“That’s what I’m told,” Kenneth said, simply. “My earliest memory, except for dreams, is of the house I stayed in with a woman called Yarrow, and with Birch. They told me some enchantment is upon me, and now my old life is gone.”

Theone nearly fainted, and Kenneth stepped forward to catch her before Soren could. Soren looked tense, as if he did not entirely trust Kenneth to catch the woman he loved.

“I… ” Theone began. “Yarrow is with us.”

“Really?” Kenneth smiled. “Well, now, Birch is with me.”

“Who is this Birch?” Soren wondered, and Dissenbark thought, “Well, now, it’s his house. He has a right to wonder.”

“Out in the yard, milking the cows,” Dissenbark said. “She believes in making herself useful.”

Soren, still looking at Kenneth closely, rolled up his sleeve and showed him the Black Star on his wrist.

Kenneth gasped like one hurt, and Soren murmured, “You really have forgotten.”

“Yes,” Kenneth said, sounding uncertain.

“Would that I could. Would that such an enchantment was upon me.”

“Then we are… the same?”

“Yes,” Soren said, “though you are the more blessed.”

Kenneth hung his head and Arvad dared to slip his hand into Kenneth’s. The pressure of Kenneth’s hand was firm as he caught Arvad’s and he said, “Did we do… terrible things?”

Soren’s  mouth was hard and sharp.

“Yes,” he said. “You should pray to all the Gods that if you have forgotten so purely you never recall.”

“What in the world is going on!” the back door swung open and crashed as Aunt Birch stamped into the house from the barn. “Such a din as I never—”

And then she stopped talking.

Ohean’s eyes were wide, and now no one was talking, for two people who should not know each other at all, were apparently quite surprised.

It was Ohean who came to the golden skinned woman with her gold white hair. Still open mouthed, he touched her cheek and his hand went over her face as if he were blind.

“Essily,” he said.

“Ohean,” she said.

And then from Ohean, she looked to the tall, bronze haired man in the midst of them who alone had not spoken.

“Anson,” she said.

And he said, “Mother.”

“Well, as you remember,” Essily said to Ohean as the sun rose and the kitchen was filled with the scent of sausage and eggs, “your mother, Aunt Senaye, always had those dreams. A year before your father,” she turned to Anson, “called for our assistance, when the White Plague was just beginning, I began to dream, to dream of Five Stars, and in my dream one fell into Aunt Senaye’s mouth and one into mine. That was as far as it went until I came to Kingsboro. I loved your father, but I was not in love with him. What of it? His wife, the Queen, was freshly dead. He came to me in need. I did not reject him. But I did not expect to have a child. When I knew I was with child I thought, what a poor show if he were not legitimate and so I, who have always scorned marriage, made sure Anthal married me. Despite all we had done to help the people in the plague, they would not have a Rootless Isle witch for a queen and, in truth, I did not wish it. You know in that land one must be crowned queen, not only married to the king. And so I left, with you, planning to have you sent back one day.

“Coviane was the High Priestess before my sister, Nimerly and after our mother. Now, I knew that Coviane was hateful,” Essily said, “But what I had never expected was that she, who was never a woman of great power, would find someone who was. She found Phineas, and with him she made a great geasa. By it, I was driven from the Rootless Isle, driven from my own powers, driven from contacting my kin until the day they should find me. An impossible geasa. By now I knew of the Five Stars, and that Phineas was the fallen one, that Ohean was the magely one, and that Anson, you are the Hero—”

Here, Theone gasped, but then she said, “I ought to have known.”

“I’m sure you suspected,” Essily said to her. “I went to the Fifth Star, which is Yarrow. She assured me if I remained with her, then in time, I would be released from the enchantment placed on me. And so, for twenty-eight years I have watched from a far, never thinking I would have my son. And now that I do,” she said looking on Anson, “I cannot tell what use he would have for me.”

Anson clasped his mother’s hand tightly, but said nothing.

“I wish I could kill her,” he finally said of Coviane. “I will kill Phineas.”

Essily noted Anson’s hand on the hilt of his sword, and she said, “I wonder, son, if you could kill Phineas with that sword. It is Callasyl, is it not? You have found it again?”

“Again?”

“It has been yours for many ages,” Essily said, “and if it is Callasyl, then…”

“But Ohean said the same thing,” Theone noted.

“Because Callasyl is the fourth of the Five Stars,” Essily said, plainly.

“But how?”

“The same way you and Ohean are reborn as Hero and Mage across many worlds, Callasyl chose to come into the world as a stone or a wand or an amulet sometimes, as the implement of heroes. Now it is a sword. The Avayan come into the world as many things. The Five are the highest, but there are others, all in the world to protect it until the end of days, but since Callasyl is, after all, the sister of Finlan, I do not know if she will kill him.”

“But I will kill him,” Ohean said. “I have no qualms, and so will Anson. Now that I think of it, I cannot imagine that Callasyl would disobey the will of the one who wields her.”

 “I would make it very slow, very painful,” Anson said. “So often I wept for you, Mother.

“Nevermind,” he said, at last. “When this is done we shall go to Ondres, and you shall live as the queen you are. You will be in high state and all will know you as the Prince’s mother.”

“Anson,” she said, simply, “That is not the way it will be at all.”

He blinked at her.

“I think, though,” Essily said, “it will be better.”

    

When Dahlan, Skabelund, Aimee and the rest of the party heard feet tramping up ahead on the North Way, they were wary until Yarrow bid them be at peace. She continued cleaning, and presently here was the crowd, and Yarrow came to Birch and Ohean.

“But even you said nothing,” Ohean said.

“I could say nothing,” Yarrow said. “I could only wait for the geas to be broken when you went to the farm.”

“But who are the others?” Dahlan began.

Arvad appeared to be about to explain things when Dissenbark said, “Oh, it’s a long story and we haven’t time. Only know he’s going too. See. He brought this horse with him.”

When Prince Rendan returned to the Passes, his face was as stony as the walls.

“It is done,” he said. “I thought I would feel better. Or more… something, seeing it. They did not hold it in the Temple. That’s ravaged anyway. That was the best part of the day. Do you know bits of it keep falling?”

At this Elder Allman winced, and Skabelund’s mouth went into a straight line but the Prophet, Rendan noticed, seemed unaffected.

“Near the front they’ve struck water. Phineas has removed the priests to his palace and they’re swarming all over ours. That’s where the funeral was.”

“It was not,” Mehta said, “worthy of a king. One lowly priest of Banthra. He did everything the way Phineas told him. You know he was bullied.”

“Shouldn’t it have been done in the King’s City?” Theone said.

“My uncle,” Rendan turned to her, “told the people assembled—after the funeral he went out to the balcony—that the funeral should be here, and my father’s funeral pyre should be here, that when they enter the King’s City it should have only the joy of his coronation. Oh, yes,” Rendan turned to Theone, “and he announced his marriage to that cousin you’ve never met, Ermengild’s niece.”

“He will have the throne of Chyr before he’s done,” Ohean murmured, and Anson imagined that he did no mean Bellamy, but rather Phineas.

“They burned him out in the field that we entered this city from,” Rendan’s voice was choked with anger as he turned to Ethan.

“Only a few days ago. I told him… I said be careful, Father.”

And then the Prince said, “My wrath… I will not put up with Phineas. I will not bear him in my land. I will have an end of him. I will drive him and all his servants out of the land of Solahn forever. I promise this.”

He rang his hands quickly and then said, “But for now I wish to be alone.”

The Prince left and Mehta looked after him.

“I have a spot in my heart for sad men,” she said. And then, despite his words, she followed him while Ethan and Yarrow watched.

While Mehta was walking away, Skabelund stood over Austin.

“Yes?” Austin looked up at him.

“We have not spoken,” he said. “Not about anything.”

“Erek,” Austin said, “you led me to believe we had long since run out of things to say.”

“Maybe talking is overrated.”

“Maybe,” Austin agreed, still looking at him.

“I am going south,” Skabelund said. “Magic is not my world.”

Austin nodded.

“Come with me.”

“Yes,” was all Austin said.

Skabelund nodded, and then sat with his back to the rock, beside his old love.

“Lady,” Rendan said, “I appreciate your coming, but I was in earnest when I said I wished to be alone.”

“Yes, I know,” Mehta pulled her skirts under her and sat on a rock. “But as you can see, I’m just the sort of girl who can’t leave folks alone.” She shook her head. “And certainly no lady.”

Rendan smiled at her despite himself and said, “I disagree. You certainly are very much a lady. More than I’ve met at the courts back home who have… no fire, no spine, and no will of their own.”

“That,” Mehta said, “is a sweeping indictment. And since I’m just a kitchen girl and haven’t met those royal ladies, I cannot say yay or nay to it. Not until I get there, which is good. Because I’m going.”

“Lady!”

“Actually, it’s Mehta, and I just feel like I’ve been telling Soren all this time: I need my own life. Well, if he’s following Theone and… they’re going to be king and queen or something like that, then I figure I need to make my own way too. So why not with you?”