Taminy by Maya Kaathryn Bohnhoff Page B

words. Indeed, to do so would be
tantamount to sacrilege. It is certain from the reports of both our new Osraed,
that the Meri has changed Aspect. I seem to recall that the last such Cusp
brought some significant changes in the Laws and Observances.”
    “But
not like this!” objected Eadmund. “This is outrageous!”
    “Who
are we to judge the Meri’s decree outrageous? Look at our young brother, Wyth.
Can you doubt that he has been touched by the Meri? Can you doubt that he
speaks only what the Meri commissions him to speak?”
    The
entire assemblage turned, as a man, to peer at the Kiss, brilliant, on Wyth’s
brow. They could not doubt, and Bevol knew it.
    The
Apex nodded at Wyth. “Tell us, Osraed Wyth, what were the words of the Meri to
you after She bestowed Her Kiss?”
    “She
said, ‘Am I not the Mother of Osraed? From this night you are no longer the son
of the woman who bore you. This night, you have become my son, for I have given
life to your soul.’ She did that.”
    “And
did She extract from you any promises?”
    “That
I would use the knowledge She gave me well, and ...” He grinned at the memory,
causing several of the Osraed to wriggle uncomfortably. “And that I would learn
to laugh.”
    “And
what is your Mission, Wyth Arundel?”
    “I
am to be attached to Halig-liath. I am to protect the Covenant between man and
Meri. I am to bring about certain ... reforms in Divine Doctrine. I would
prefer not to speak of these things until I’ve rested. I haven’t slept for
several days.”
    “What
sort of reforms?” asked Ealad-hach sharply, ignoring Bevol’s chairmanship. “Have
they do to with admitting cailin to Halig-liath?”
    “Ealad,
please!” Calach stared at his compatriot in bemusement. “The poor boy is
exhausted. Look at him. What an experience he has had! He has obviously been
singled out for great honor.”
    But
Ealad-hach would not desist. “Does it mean nothing to you that, according to
the testimony of Osraed Bevol, Meredydd-a-Lagan entered the Sea as this boy
claims to have done? Does it mean nothing to you that I have dreamed of that
event?”
    “Meredydd?”
echoed Wyth as Osraed Tynedale repeated, “Claims?” Wyth scarcely heard what was
said for the next few seconds. He cared only that Osraed Bevol would know what
had really happened to Meredydd.
    “Meredydd
was transformed,” he murmured, unthinking. “The Meri told me.”
    They
heard him and poured out as astonished a silence as when he had spoken of the
Meri kissing his mouth.
    “Transformed?”
Even in the semi-dark that hovered protectively about his head, Ealad-hach’s
face was pale. “In what way, transformed?”
    Wyth
looked to Bevol. “She said you knew, Master. She said if I asked, you would
tell me.”
    Bevol
sat placidly at the center of attention, glancing from face to face, his lips
not quite smiling, his eyes revealing nothing. “Yes,” he said, “I do know.
Meredydd-a-Lagan was transmuted into an Eibhilin form. I saw it happen. Skeet
saw it happen. Even Gwynet saw it, though I doubt she understood what she saw,
any more than our brother Ealad understands the implications of what he
dreamed. I don’t doubt the two things are related.”
    Bevol
turned his eyes to Wyth then. “I will tell you of Meredydd’s last moments on
the Meri’s Shore, but later, when you are rested. Then we must discuss the
changes the Meri wishes to be made here and your inclusion on the Council.”
    Wyth
felt an odd prickle in the core of his mind. “No, Osraed Bevol. I ... I am not
to serve on the Council. I am ... to be Weard to the Covenant.”
    “Weard
to the Covenant?” repeated Faer-wald. “Why? Why does the Covenant need such
protection?”
    “It
simply does or ... it will.” The prickle was waning. “I’m not sure yet,
exactly,” Wyth said apologetically. His head dipped in a moment of habitual
self-deprecation. “I can only say it will soon become clear.”
    oOo
    “What
is clear,” said Osraed