teach others. Iseabal, I’d like you to go back to Nairne to teach
your father and anyone else who dares to learn. And Aine, I’d like you to go to
Creiddylad to instruct the believers there. Most especially Lealbhallain and
Fhada.”
Aine’s eyes flickered to Wyth’s suddenly ashen face while
Iseabal cried, “ Leave you, Taminy?
Leave you? How can I?”
Taminy dropped to her knees before the distraught girl and
took her hands. “Anwyl,” she said, and let the endearment carry her love
between them. “It wouldn’t be forever. And you’ve family there, so you wouldn’t
be alone. You and I will always be able to touch somewhere above and beyond
this.” She squeezed Iseabal’s fingers. “But your poor, dear father has only his
dreams. Of the Osraed at Halig-liath faithful to the Meri, only Tynedale has a
great Gift for the Speakweave, and he’s half-forgotten how to use it. Through you,
I would be able to speak to them, and once they’ve learned to discipline the
aidan—”
“Then I could return?”
Taminy nodded. “Then you could return. Will you go to
Nairne, Isha?”
“I’ll attempt anything you ask, Taminy. You must believe I
can do it.”
“I believe you can do anything that needs to be done,”
Taminy told her. She raised her head to regard the other two, very much aware
of the tension skittering between them. It was no more than she expected.
“Well, Aine, will you go to Creiddylad?”
Aine flushed. “Surely you can’t mean for me to instruct Osraed .”
“Well, there are no doubt things they can teach you, as
well, but yes, that’s just what I mean for you to do.”
“But Creiddylad . . . it’s so far away. I’ll be among enemies,
strangers—”
“Now, Aine. Leal-mac-Mercer is hardly a stranger to you.”
“But I’m sure I couldn’t send a Speakweave that far or
receive one.”
Taminy shook her head. “Distance makes no difference. You
know that. Aine, I know I’m asking you to do a hard thing, but I must ask.
There’s no one else to send.”
Aine bowed her head, trying to hide her expression. That she
might hide from Taminy, but not the fears and anxieties and disappointments
that lay behind it, filling her eyes with tears.
“I know. And I understand why someone’s needed there, it’s
just . . . I’m sorry. Of course I’ll go.”
Wyth cleared his throat noisily and said, “You’ll want them
to leave with The Claeg, then.”
“I hope he’ll agree to take them. I thought he could head
north to Nairne and leave Isha with her family, then ferry Aine to Creiddylad.”
Wyth nodded, his eyes, for a moment, seeming unable to
focus.
Taminy knew his thoughts had had similar problems of late.
“Is there something wrong, Wyth?” she asked softly.
The large, dark eyes snapped to sudden clarity. “Ah, no,
Mistress. I was just meandering.”
Aine, her tears abandoned, clambered to her feet. “Well,
that’s that, then. I’d best go pack my gear.”
A sonorous tolling began outside, bringing Wyth to his feet,
as well. “That will be the Claeg coming in. I’d best consult with Catahn. How
long do you think they’ll stay?”
Taminy regarded him soberly, knowing she made him want to
twitch. “Some days, I imagine. His men will be weary.”
He nodded. He glanced at Aine. “I’d best go, then.”
Taminy got to her feet, bringing Iseabal with her. “You
girls, too. Aine’s right. You’d best start packing; make sure you’ve got good
warm traveling clothes. If you’ve not, tell Eyslk or Eldress Levene.”
Iseabal gave her a kiss on the cheek and left quickly; the
others lingered for a moment more as if caught in an invisible eddy, then
scurried to the door, nearly colliding on the threshold. Aine, seeming near
tears again, shrugged through first and ran off down the hall.
“Wyth.” Taminy halted him before he’d quite gotten himself
back in motion, and came to him at the door. “What is it, Wyth?”
He closed himself up for a second, then
your father and anyone else who dares to learn. And Aine, I’d like you to go to
Creiddylad to instruct the believers there. Most especially Lealbhallain and
Fhada.”
Aine’s eyes flickered to Wyth’s suddenly ashen face while
Iseabal cried, “ Leave you, Taminy?
Leave you? How can I?”
Taminy dropped to her knees before the distraught girl and
took her hands. “Anwyl,” she said, and let the endearment carry her love
between them. “It wouldn’t be forever. And you’ve family there, so you wouldn’t
be alone. You and I will always be able to touch somewhere above and beyond
this.” She squeezed Iseabal’s fingers. “But your poor, dear father has only his
dreams. Of the Osraed at Halig-liath faithful to the Meri, only Tynedale has a
great Gift for the Speakweave, and he’s half-forgotten how to use it. Through you,
I would be able to speak to them, and once they’ve learned to discipline the
aidan—”
“Then I could return?”
Taminy nodded. “Then you could return. Will you go to
Nairne, Isha?”
“I’ll attempt anything you ask, Taminy. You must believe I
can do it.”
“I believe you can do anything that needs to be done,”
Taminy told her. She raised her head to regard the other two, very much aware
of the tension skittering between them. It was no more than she expected.
“Well, Aine, will you go to Creiddylad?”
Aine flushed. “Surely you can’t mean for me to instruct Osraed .”
“Well, there are no doubt things they can teach you, as
well, but yes, that’s just what I mean for you to do.”
“But Creiddylad . . . it’s so far away. I’ll be among enemies,
strangers—”
“Now, Aine. Leal-mac-Mercer is hardly a stranger to you.”
“But I’m sure I couldn’t send a Speakweave that far or
receive one.”
Taminy shook her head. “Distance makes no difference. You
know that. Aine, I know I’m asking you to do a hard thing, but I must ask.
There’s no one else to send.”
Aine bowed her head, trying to hide her expression. That she
might hide from Taminy, but not the fears and anxieties and disappointments
that lay behind it, filling her eyes with tears.
“I know. And I understand why someone’s needed there, it’s
just . . . I’m sorry. Of course I’ll go.”
Wyth cleared his throat noisily and said, “You’ll want them
to leave with The Claeg, then.”
“I hope he’ll agree to take them. I thought he could head
north to Nairne and leave Isha with her family, then ferry Aine to Creiddylad.”
Wyth nodded, his eyes, for a moment, seeming unable to
focus.
Taminy knew his thoughts had had similar problems of late.
“Is there something wrong, Wyth?” she asked softly.
The large, dark eyes snapped to sudden clarity. “Ah, no,
Mistress. I was just meandering.”
Aine, her tears abandoned, clambered to her feet. “Well,
that’s that, then. I’d best go pack my gear.”
A sonorous tolling began outside, bringing Wyth to his feet,
as well. “That will be the Claeg coming in. I’d best consult with Catahn. How
long do you think they’ll stay?”
Taminy regarded him soberly, knowing she made him want to
twitch. “Some days, I imagine. His men will be weary.”
He nodded. He glanced at Aine. “I’d best go, then.”
Taminy got to her feet, bringing Iseabal with her. “You
girls, too. Aine’s right. You’d best start packing; make sure you’ve got good
warm traveling clothes. If you’ve not, tell Eyslk or Eldress Levene.”
Iseabal gave her a kiss on the cheek and left quickly; the
others lingered for a moment more as if caught in an invisible eddy, then
scurried to the door, nearly colliding on the threshold. Aine, seeming near
tears again, shrugged through first and ran off down the hall.
“Wyth.” Taminy halted him before he’d quite gotten himself
back in motion, and came to him at the door. “What is it, Wyth?”
He closed himself up for a second, then
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