LIKE LIKE Chapter 3. The Salamander You did not impress that young man, Astá told Meria. It had been against Astás better judgment to allow Finlay Mack to be present when she told Meria about the disaster at the Kerk, but Meria, bursting in, took care of that decision in her own manner. Finlay had calmed sufficiently to fill her (and Broos, still hiding) in on some of the details. It had been a Hemlander arrow, shot from a long distance. The skill required meant it had to have been one of the Hemlanders best. The assassin was still at large somewhere in the Kerk, which was sealed against any stranger leaving without the Electors knowledge. Finlay assured her the killer would be found. The companies of every Riding were gathering to ride north as he spoke. Lorne, he said, was beside himself and would not rest until Edvard Eyriksson and all his spawn were dead. Preferably cut into a hundred pieces each. Now, Astá and Meria were alone, as Finlay had left with many bows and wide, astonished eyes. It was obvious hed never seen anyone like the raging red-haired helspawn that had been betrothed to his dead half-brother. They did not make them like that in the Kerk. So far as Astá knew, they did not make them like Meria anywhere else in the Wide World. Stop it, mother, Meria said. She twisted her dark red hair furiously and dug viciously into the oaken table with the tip of a worn dagger. Very worn, and seldom sharpened. You had a fit in front of Ewan Ancasters envoy, Astá said in a mild tone. Every word and gesture will be carried back to him. That young man was half-brother to Kamron. Did you even think? You look like Hels dog. Meria glared up at her mother. A vague look of embarrassment crossed her face, but only for a moment. How can you be so calm? Because I have more to worry about than myself. Astá watched her daughter struggle, her mouth twisting, sighs escaping her lips. Where the red hair had come from, she would never know. There had been none such in her line, nor Mikayels. Perhaps, she thought, it was the Salamander. She had wanted a child so badly after – after Mats was killed. Yes, she had held the Salamander to her body and the magic had worked. And this was what she got. She loved Meria beyond words. Everything – everything was for her. Keile, mother, Meria said at last. Shes still there. Weve got to get her out. Theyll kill her. They will never do that, said Astá. They will not risk me making common cause with Edvard Eyriksson. They do not want the Hemlanders to have our swords. Our armor. Our shields. What about Harald then? Meria asked. He is your friend, said Astá. You love him, I love him. What about him? Hes – you could send them a message, mother. Let them know they will feel our – I rather think I already have, said Astá. With a cry, Meria grasped at the sheepskin battle map Broos had been marking and flung it from the table. Why dont you ever make sense! she said. Astá felt a vague twinge of anger rising. This was enough. Why dont you ever listen? she snapped. I dont understand you, Meria said, her voice small, the same as when shed been a little girl. She had an unerring sense when shed pushed her mother too far. Among those who watched, all believed she had her mother twisted around her little finger. Astá would have disputed that, but only partly. Keile and the others are trapped there. And Kamron is dead. Youre acting like it doesnt even matter. Now Ill never get married! Oh, said Astá. Thats whats bothering you. No, I suppose not. Of course this is all about you. Can you think for a moment what Kamrons mother must feel? His father? His brother? I know what a woman feels when she loses a son. My heart goes out to her. Mother! Meria cried. Astá knew that she wanted to scream a few more epithets, but she was beyond words. She reached for a flagon and threw it in her mothers direction. Astá easily dodged it and fought back the urge to laugh. In the back of her mind, she searched for something – anything – to reach Meria, to stay the wild temper. This could not be good. She was too old to be like this, Astá thought. Some sort of control had to emerge – somehow. Theres always Broos, Astá said. Broos! You – b – Meria was so enraged she was sputtering. I wish my father was here so he could beat you! Our Blessed Mother take me, said Astá. Or take you, because clearly you are some changeling dropped in your crib. Where was my real daughter taken? Mother! Meria started to pace, stopping when a knock came at the door. Everyone has heard you. Again, said Astá. Turning to the door, she said, Enter. It was Nedd Bern. Merias face instantly changed from anger to sorrow, and she ran to him. He embraced her roughly, looking over her shoulder at Astá. His face was gray with worry. Did he have word of – Yes, said Astá. I should have told you. She left unsaid that she would have, had it not been for Meria. He brought word that Keile and the others are fine. How can we know? Theyve only got – Jacques and Sully are two of our best. Theyll let no harm come to your daughter. The girls will be home as soon as the assassin is caught. What has happened is – Assassin! We thought – Nedd said. Yes, said Astá. You thought the same as I – a Hemlander skirmish. But it was Kamrons half-brother was sent. It is full war, and as you can see, no wedding with a dead groom. She paused to let the news sink in. The boy said it was a marksman, and a good one. Across one of their proving fields, from a high tower with a narrow line of sight. Hemlander arrow. Blessed Mother, said Nedd. My girls in all that. Why – why now? The Hemlanders wanted war, Astá said. Now they have it. The poor young man, said Nedd. Therell be knives in the night for any stranger. He looked as though he wanted to say something else. Keile will be all right, papa, said Meria, speaking to him as she did when she was small. Shes smart. Maybe smarter than I am. Shes tough, too. The one-eyed man smiled and patted her on the back. I hope youre right, Redbird, he said, though his expression said the opposite. Mother, I want to go. Bring her back – they cant keep her! said Meria. That is a no, said Astá. Youre going nowhere. Nedd squeezed Merias arm and removed her from his embrace, gently. Your mothers right, he said. These are dangerous times. You need to stay here, stay safe. Oh, Great Mother take me! Meria cried. I cant just sit here. Why not go down to the steel forge, Astá said. Theres sure to be some work needs doing. Bellows and quenching. Work! Meria cried. Yes, said Astá. Theres nothing like it to take your mind off things. You can do nothing for Keile right now. And I can see how upset you still are about Kamron. With a furious glance, Meria threw her hair over her shoulder and left. She slammed the door, rattling everything nearby and knocking a candle, fortunately unlit, from a side table. Nedd shook his head as she left. Mine is wild, he said. And mine, wilder, Astá replied. He turned to go. Astá hesitated a moment, then touched his wrist to stay him. There may be something I can do, she said, hardly knowing why she said it. She was certain Broos was squirming silently in his hiding place. Well, the Great Mother take Broos Zuri to Hel. Something? he said, a soft, hopeful light flickering in his good eye. Shes like my own daughter, Nedd, Astá said. Perhaps I can – scry – some of what is happening. On the morrow after the boy leaves, Ill let you know. He nodded, silently. None of the men and women of Kestrel Point knew exactly what the Guardian did when she went to the Salamander. They saw only the red lights in the tower and heard the roar of the fire. At times, cries issued forth like a wounded animal, hardly human. Astá dAvia had powers. She had scryed since she was thirteen years old, and she had the knowing of the Salamander, one of the last of the great magical creatures. The people said that it spoke to her. Astá would not have told anyone exactly what it said. She knew its name, for it had told her. Her name. Shula. She was immortal and foolishly-wise and strange and fickle, and in her fire was forged the greatest of their blades. You neednt have fined that sword hes taking back with him, Madam, Nedd said. It was a good blade on its own. Good enough for a flatlander from the Kerk. Therell be no fining tonight, said Astá. He nodded again and squeezed her hand. I love my daughter, he said. But do not harm yourself on my count. Oh, said Astá. Therell be none of that. She released his fingers. I promise. It was a promise, of course, she could not be completely assured of keeping, for once bound to the Salamander in fire, it was Shula the Salamander, not Astá, who would determine that. #
Posted on: Wed, 06 Nov 2013 01:27:21 +0000