Mrillis said, resting a hand on Thrarin's shoulder, and
the other hand on his forehead. The boy froze.
"Let the tapestry be done," Meghianna said. She stood and let go of Lycen to grasp
Thrarin's hand.
"Let the sundered mind be one," the boy whispered, shuddering. His knees folded, and
he nearly went to the floor before he caught himself and stood upright again, with Mrillis and
Meghianna's help. Ripples of rainbow light obscured his features as the woven spell came
undone. The confusion left his gaze, and the stern understanding of a warrior hardened his
face.
A little gasp of pain escaped Meghianna, but that was all the acknowledgement Mrillis
knew she would ever make, all the mourning she would be allowed, for the innocent innkeeper's
boy who had been destroyed by the emergence of Athrar Warhawk into his waking mind.
"Of course," Lycen said. He shook his head, and that crooked, painful grin of a boy who
wouldn't admit he'd been hurt twisted his face. Moving as if his joints ached, he went down on
one knee before Athrar. "My king."
"Not king yet. Not for a long time." Athrar's lips twitched and he swallowed hard. "Get
up, Lycen. You look stupid."
"Not until you take my vow."
"You've given it all your life, ever since you hauled me out of the street, my first day at
the inn. Remember?" He bent and grasped the older boy's wrists and yanked hard enough to pull
him off balance, so Lycen had to stand or fall.
"I'm sorry," Meghianna said, wrapping an arm around Lycen's shoulders.
"What are you talking about?" Lok said.
"I think I understand. How could you let him go this long without training?" Megassa
rose slowly and crossed the room, studying Athrar with her head slightly tipped to one side.
"Yes, in dreams. Do Papa and Glyssani know? About the training? Does he-- Do you know
anything of your parents?"
"We have met in dreams." Athrar shuddered. "I'm so tired of living in my dreams."
"The dreaming time is over," Mrillis said. "Lads, forgive us for confusing you." He
grasped Athrar's shoulders and turned him to face Megassa's four sons, with confusion wrinkling
their foreheads. "This is not Thrarin, but Athrar Warhawk, son of Efrin Warhawk, brother to
Meghianna Queen of Snows and your mother."
Total silence from the boys was more profound, in Mrillis' opinion, than any arguments
or questions. The silence grew and deepened and tightened until it became an almost audible,
deafening ringing. Until Athrar snapped it with a chuckle.
"I forgot to ask before ... Is Lycen my brother, or my nephew?"
"Brother. Always," Meghianna said, with a ragged chuckle. "And since you are so many
years ahead in your lessons, I expect you to take care of teaching him about his imbrose ."
"It might keep all our boys out of trouble if Athrar would take on everyone's lessons as
we travel," Megassa said. She dropped to one knee in a graceful curtsey. "Welcome to your own,
brother Athrar. I do swear, my sons will be your most loyal followers."
* * * *
"We don't have much time, do we?" Megassa said, as she, Meghianna and Mrillis settled
at the little table in Meghianna's room.
They had left the six boys in Megassa's suite, ostensibly to begin their first lessons in
using imbrose . Mrillis wished he could be a bird at the window, to watch and listen as
the boys re-settled the order of dominance they had established in their journey. Knowing boys,
and how they would use blood ties for leverage, he suspected their first move would be to lock
out Lycen. Not physically. They were too smart to think they would get away with that. But he
suspected the four brothers would continually emphasize in small ways that they had a greater
claim on Athrar as nephews than Lycen did as an adopted brother. Putting Athrar in charge of
teaching the boys was a wise move--it would distract him with other concerns while he finished
combining his waking and dreaming identities into one person.
Mrillis looked forward to breaking the spell woven on Efrin and Glyssani,
the other hand on his forehead. The boy froze.
"Let the tapestry be done," Meghianna said. She stood and let go of Lycen to grasp
Thrarin's hand.
"Let the sundered mind be one," the boy whispered, shuddering. His knees folded, and
he nearly went to the floor before he caught himself and stood upright again, with Mrillis and
Meghianna's help. Ripples of rainbow light obscured his features as the woven spell came
undone. The confusion left his gaze, and the stern understanding of a warrior hardened his
face.
A little gasp of pain escaped Meghianna, but that was all the acknowledgement Mrillis
knew she would ever make, all the mourning she would be allowed, for the innocent innkeeper's
boy who had been destroyed by the emergence of Athrar Warhawk into his waking mind.
"Of course," Lycen said. He shook his head, and that crooked, painful grin of a boy who
wouldn't admit he'd been hurt twisted his face. Moving as if his joints ached, he went down on
one knee before Athrar. "My king."
"Not king yet. Not for a long time." Athrar's lips twitched and he swallowed hard. "Get
up, Lycen. You look stupid."
"Not until you take my vow."
"You've given it all your life, ever since you hauled me out of the street, my first day at
the inn. Remember?" He bent and grasped the older boy's wrists and yanked hard enough to pull
him off balance, so Lycen had to stand or fall.
"I'm sorry," Meghianna said, wrapping an arm around Lycen's shoulders.
"What are you talking about?" Lok said.
"I think I understand. How could you let him go this long without training?" Megassa
rose slowly and crossed the room, studying Athrar with her head slightly tipped to one side.
"Yes, in dreams. Do Papa and Glyssani know? About the training? Does he-- Do you know
anything of your parents?"
"We have met in dreams." Athrar shuddered. "I'm so tired of living in my dreams."
"The dreaming time is over," Mrillis said. "Lads, forgive us for confusing you." He
grasped Athrar's shoulders and turned him to face Megassa's four sons, with confusion wrinkling
their foreheads. "This is not Thrarin, but Athrar Warhawk, son of Efrin Warhawk, brother to
Meghianna Queen of Snows and your mother."
Total silence from the boys was more profound, in Mrillis' opinion, than any arguments
or questions. The silence grew and deepened and tightened until it became an almost audible,
deafening ringing. Until Athrar snapped it with a chuckle.
"I forgot to ask before ... Is Lycen my brother, or my nephew?"
"Brother. Always," Meghianna said, with a ragged chuckle. "And since you are so many
years ahead in your lessons, I expect you to take care of teaching him about his imbrose ."
"It might keep all our boys out of trouble if Athrar would take on everyone's lessons as
we travel," Megassa said. She dropped to one knee in a graceful curtsey. "Welcome to your own,
brother Athrar. I do swear, my sons will be your most loyal followers."
* * * *
"We don't have much time, do we?" Megassa said, as she, Meghianna and Mrillis settled
at the little table in Meghianna's room.
They had left the six boys in Megassa's suite, ostensibly to begin their first lessons in
using imbrose . Mrillis wished he could be a bird at the window, to watch and listen as
the boys re-settled the order of dominance they had established in their journey. Knowing boys,
and how they would use blood ties for leverage, he suspected their first move would be to lock
out Lycen. Not physically. They were too smart to think they would get away with that. But he
suspected the four brothers would continually emphasize in small ways that they had a greater
claim on Athrar as nephews than Lycen did as an adopted brother. Putting Athrar in charge of
teaching the boys was a wise move--it would distract him with other concerns while he finished
combining his waking and dreaming identities into one person.
Mrillis looked forward to breaking the spell woven on Efrin and Glyssani,
Similar Books
