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It was perplexing. "Why should you believe the clan might lose me?"
"Have you not come for the teaching?" It was
Aidan's turn to frown. "The clans send to me those men and women who wish to
leam what it is a shar tahl must do. I serve the gods by interpreting and
teaching divine intentions . . ." He shrugged.
"/ make no differentiation between a man who is physically more suited to war
than to study, but the clans often do. I am persuaded they would labor most
assiduously to talk you out of coming here." The glint in his eyes was
fleeting. "Surely the women would."
It was disarming, but Kellin would not permit it to vanquish his irritation^
He used the reminder that his appearance was considered by most, espe-
cially women, as pleasing to look for himself in
Aidan. He saw little. Aidan's hair was a rich, deep auburn, almost black in
dim light, save for the vivid white wing over his left ear. His eyes were what
a Cheysuli would describe as ordinary, though their uncompromising yellowness
Homa-
nans yet found unsettling. His flesh was not so dark as a clan-bred warrior,
but then neither was
Kellin's.
There we match; in the color of our flesh. But not, I am moved to say, in the
color of our hearts.
Aidan's tone was polite- "Have you come to
leam?"
It nearly moved him to a wild, keening laughter;
352 Jennifer Roberson what he wanted to learn had nothing to do with gods. In
subtle derision, he said, "If you can teach me."
Aidan smiled. "I will do what I can, certainly.
It is up to the gods to make you a shar tahl."
"Is that ?" Kellin blurted a sharp sound of dis-
belief. "Is that what you think I want?"
"What else? It is what I do here: prepare those who desire to serve the gods
more closely than others do."
Kellin moved around the heel stone. He marked that the sun had been in Aidan's
eyes; that what his father saw of him was little but silhouette, or the pale
shadow of three dimensions.
He sees a warrior, somewhat taller than expected, but nonetheless kneeling in
communion with the gods. Well, I will have to see to it he knows me for what I
am, not what he presupposes. He moved to the front of the stone, permitting
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Aidan to see him clearly. Now what do you say?
Aidan's skin turned a peculiar grayish-white.
His flesh was a chalk cliff in the sun, showing the damage done by rain and
damp and age. Even the lips, carved of granite, were pale as alabaster.
"Echoes " Aidan blurted, " but Shona. The kivama " He was trembling visibly.
Kellin had not believed he much resembled his dead mother; they said she was
fair, and her eyes brown. But obviously there was something; Aidan had seen it
too quickly. Or perhaps only feels it because of his kivama.
Contempt welled up. He wanted badly to hurt the man. "She did bear me," he
said. "There should be something of her in me."
Aidan's face was peeled to the bone so the shape of his skull was visible. The
eyes. so calm before, had acquired a brittle intensity that mocked his
A TAPESTKY OF LIONS 353
former self-possession. His mouth was unmoving,
as if something had sealed it closed.
Is this what I wanted, all those years? Or do I
want more yet?
Aidan drew in a breath, then released it slowly.
He smiled a sad, weary smile. The chalk cliff of his face had lost another
layer to the onslaught of exposure; in this case, to knowledge. "I knew you
would hate me. But it was a risk I had to take."
Kellin wanted to shout. "Was it?" he managed tightly. "And was it worth it?"
He paused, then framed the single word upon years of bitterness.
"Jehan."
In Aidan's eyes was reflected as many years of conviction. "Come inside," he
said. "What I have to say is best said there."
He did not want to he felt to do as asked would weaken his position but Kellin
followed. The chapel was not large inside, nor did it boast sub-
stantial illumination; a tight latticework roof closed out the sun, Kellin
allowed his eyes to ad-
just, then glanced briefly around the interior. A
rune-carved alter stood in the center. Set against the tilted walls were stone
benches. Torch brack-
ets pegged into seams in the stonework were empty.
"Where is your lir7" Aidan asked.
"She led me here, then disappeared."
"Ah." Aidan nodded. "Tee! disappeared this morning as well, so that all I had
were the dogs;
it was a conspiracy, then, that we should meet without benefit of lir."
Kellin did not care overmuch about what the lir conspired to do. He was wholly
fixed on the acknowledgment that the man who stood before him had planted the
seed which had grown in
Shona's belly, only to be torn free on a night filled
394 JeoaSSer Roberson with flames. He loved her, they say. Could he not have
loved her son as well?
Aidan sat down on one of the benches. Kellin, pointedly, remained standing. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]