Read Silver May Tarnish Online
Authors: Andre Norton
Silver May Tarnish (6 page)
I was far to the South-west now, traveling in a slight curve down the lands. The Waste shimmered hotly to the North, far East lay the sea. Ahead to the South and a little East lay Sorn Fen. I had taken a day to wash my clothing
and put on the only clean things I had left. Under my cloak I wore a threadbare tabard with the Paltendale arms. I had meant to throw it away many times but had not done so. It was too small for me and I had let out the strings as far as I could. The day was fine and I galloped Tas, out of my joy in living, Drustan following. I rounded a bend on the trail and men barred my way. I recognized one with a cry of amazement.
and put on the only clean things I had left. Under my cloak I wore a threadbare tabard with the Paltendale arms. I had meant to throw it away many times but had not done so. It was too small for me and I had let out the strings as far as I could. The day was fine and I galloped Tas, out of my joy in living, Drustan following. I rounded a bend on the trail and men barred my way. I recognized one with a cry of amazement.
“Devol?” It was he, the groom from Erondale I had liked as a child. My friend with his winks and tricks and his jokes which had always made me laugh when I was young. Just when I thought everything of my dale was lostâwhen I believed everyone from Erondale was long since deadâhere was an old friend.
“Devol, well met. What have you been doing through this war, are these your friends?”
He smiled, crowding his horse up to mine. “My friends, yes?” I saw he had not quite recognized me, though the dye was long since washed from my hair and skin. A child changes far more than a grown man in ten or twelve years.
“Devol, it's Lorcan, Lorcan of Erondale.” He beamed hugely then.
“Little Lorcan! What do you here, are you alone, what of Erondale and your family?”
I felt a surge of sorrow. “Erondale fell to the invaders early. My father and brothers were killed as we fled. But it is wonderful to see you again and alive.”
Devol nodded. “A great occasion. Dismount, eat and drink with us, Lord Lorcan. We have good wine.” His band were a ragtag lot and I did not like the look of them, yet this was Devol of Erondale. I dismounted as he asked, sat and ate with them, drank heartily of the wine they offered me, toasting Erondale, Lord Imgry, friends and fallen comrades and the downfall of the invaders. I felt a strange muzziness come over me as I raised my mug to drink the last toast and as I slumped sideways onto the ground I saw
that Devol still smiled. Yet now it seemed like the smile of one who gloats and not the grin of good comradeship. I had barely time to curse my folly before I was drowned in darkness.
that Devol still smiled. Yet now it seemed like the smile of one who gloats and not the grin of good comradeship. I had barely time to curse my folly before I was drowned in darkness.
Meive
I
awoke still hearing the screams, seeing the fires. I had seen or heard none of it, but the knowledge of how it must have been lived in my heart, and in my dreaming mind when I slept. I came shuddering into the here and now of a still warm night. The peace enwrapped me, soothing and calming until at last my gasping breaths slowed. The thundering pulse of my heart ceased to shake me. In the new silence I could hear a soft drowsy hum from the hives. I reached out with my mind and found they slept. All was well. I lay back on my bedding and remembered.
awoke still hearing the screams, seeing the fires. I had seen or heard none of it, but the knowledge of how it must have been lived in my heart, and in my dreaming mind when I slept. I came shuddering into the here and now of a still warm night. The peace enwrapped me, soothing and calming until at last my gasping breaths slowed. The thundering pulse of my heart ceased to shake me. In the new silence I could hear a soft drowsy hum from the hives. I reached out with my mind and found they slept. All was well. I lay back on my bedding and remembered.
I was a child when the invaders came to the dales. Their coming meant so little to me or to those of my home that I am not even sure when it happened. It took time for any news to arrive at our remote and isolated valley. Officially, my home was Landale, although in truth we were so small that to call us “dale” was but a courtesy. Nor were we known to our neighbors by that name. Instead, a traveler had once named us Honeycoombe in jest. That name was more true to ourselves, so it remained the title most often used.
On the maps, however, we were Landale after the first of our lords, a younger son who came here to take up land four generations ago. He and his family lived in a state
barely more luxurious than those of us who looked to him, yet that suited both him and his. It suited us also, and there was strong affection and loyalty between his line and the village about his large stone house.
barely more luxurious than those of us who looked to him, yet that suited both him and his. It suited us also, and there was strong affection and loyalty between his line and the village about his large stone house.
For his estate he had taken a tiny dale, a valley steepsided, deep in foothills, with a second smaller vale leading from the inner end. We did not make our coin from rich fertile lands and sheep or cattle. No, our wealth, such as it was, came from the uplands beyond our dale. Uplands rocky and steep, but where grew great swathes of the low thick bushes known as beelove covered in massed purple and white flowers.
In Winter our few goats grazed there, nibbling the grass beneath the bushes and nibbling back the tastier portions of the shrubs themselves so that in Spring they flowered ever more profusely. That was our time: Spring, when the bees of our more than twenty hives flew forth to garner nectar and make of it honey. That we gathered with as much care as the winged-ones and traded it and the other bee-products for modest wealth for Honeycoombe.
I lay in my bed remembering that year when I had been ten and eager to learn. We had our own wise woman in Honeycoombe, old Ithia, who spoke to the bees and instructed us in their care. She it was who told us when the hives should be carried down to the valley before Winter. Who told us the right time to return the winged-ones to the Uplands so they might fly forth again in the growing warmth. She was much respected and many girls looked at her in hope. To be titled the Wise-Woman of the Bees was to be blessedâas well as the owner of a cottage and independent. And it was to me that year that she spoke.
“Meive, come with me, child.” I went eagerly.
“Take my hand and listen.” I stood before the hive to which she had led me and waited. Ithia smiled. “Do not try so hard. Let your body relax. Let your mind hear only the winged-ones humming. Let it carry you where it will.” I
did as she bade me and it was so. I saw strange and wondrous things. I could not later recall all I had seen, but I knew I had been welcomed. And Ithia knew it, too. When at last I came to myself again she was smiling.
did as she bade me and it was so. I saw strange and wondrous things. I could not later recall all I had seen, but I knew I had been welcomed. And Ithia knew it, too. When at last I came to myself again she was smiling.
“It is well. The winged-ones accept you.”
I was disappointed. Was that all? They accepted everyone in the dale. All but Neeco, and he had left almost two years ago. I said so, diverted by the memory of that angry departure.
Ithia shook her head slowly. “The bees know more than they speak. They rejected Neeco in a way which made me fear for us all. It was for that I spoke to Lord Lanson, and he found a place for the boy beyond our dale.”
“He didn't want to leave,” I said matter-of-factly.
“No, but it was right. There was that within him which disturbed the winged-ones. If he remained it would not have been well.”
My eyes rounded. “Would they have left us?”
“Perhaps.” She shook her head in warning. “Bees which have been angered or distressed have less honey to share also. The bond between us and little ones stretches thinner as they remember that we caused their worry. Nothing of that is well.”
She shrugged, throwing off our memories of the angry boy shouting threats as he left the dale. Neeco had not wanted to leave home and family. He'd been thirteen, though, old enough to take up a job several dales away. He'd been good with dogs and Lord Lanson had found him a position as assistant kennel-boy in Merrowdale, two days wagon-ride from us. His family had been sad, but resigned to his departure. Neeco, however, had to be taken by force to his new place. He'd screamed at us all as he was dragged away.
“I'll come back. You'll see. I'll come back and make you all sorry.” The lord's men had been rougher at that. Neeco had cried out in pain and anger. “You'll pay, all of you. My
life on it.” The master-at-arms had clapped a hand over Neeco's mouth and we had heard no more. He had gone, and almost had I forgotten him until this day.
life on it.” The master-at-arms had clapped a hand over Neeco's mouth and we had heard no more. He had gone, and almost had I forgotten him until this day.
“Couldn't he have stayed? He could have kept away from the Uplands.”
“The hives return to the bee-barn in Winter,” Ithia reminded me. “How would he stay away from his home then? No. It was not kind, but it was necessary. I cannot be oath-certain what ill omen he would have brought to us, but the queens showed me death. They believed he would bring death to us.” She laid a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Now, to return to why you are here. I have said, the winged-ones accept you. Not as they accept others but as they speak to me. Would you like to be my apprentice, child? If so, then I will bespeak your father.”
I was eager but doubt held me back. “Would I have to leave my family?”
Ithia smiled gently. “Eventually, yes. But not yet. You are young. I think it best that you stay with them a year or two yet. You shall learn from me during the day and return home to your kin in the evening. Does that please you better?” She saw my joyous face and her smile broadened. “I see it does. Well then, let us go and discuss matters with your parents.” Both were greatly pleased that I should be chosen. But my father was puzzled.
“Wise One, I have heard it said that to be a keeper of the bees one must have a gift. Never has there been a trace of this in my line, nor in my wife's. How is it that Meive has the gift?”
I was standing to one side and saw my mother's face. There was some secret there. She smoothed out the look when she caught my eye and nodded to me. I knew she would tell me, but not yet. Ithia nodded at my father.
“That is true, but such a gift may arise from nowhere. How think you it came the first time? Then, too, it may lie in the bloodline many generations before coming forth again. It was so with me. My own gift comes from my
many-times-grandmother. It was a story in our line, and when it appeared in me none were surprised. Mayhap in your line the story faded and was forgot. But the blood does not forget, nor do the winged-ones.”
many-times-grandmother. It was a story in our line, and when it appeared in me none were surprised. Mayhap in your line the story faded and was forgot. But the blood does not forget, nor do the winged-ones.”
My father seemed to relax at that assurance. He spoke formally then. “If it seems well to you, wise Ithia, then I agree. Let Meive, my daughter, be apprenticed to you. Will you speak to the Lord Lanson?”
“I have done so. He said if you agreed, it should be so.” I was dancing from foot to foot with excitement.
“Da? Ithia said I don't have to leave yet. I can stay here.”
My father looked at the wise woman questioningly.
Ithia laughed. “That is so. I think Meive young yet to leave and live with me. Keep her with you two further Winters. Once she is twelve let her join me in my home, which will one day be hers.” She spoke lightly, yet even as she said the last words a shadow seemed to pass across her face. But I was too happy to let that shadow dampen my spirits. I would learn, and in time I would be the Wise Woman of the Bees for Honeycoombe. I would have my own home, standing and respect from even the Lord's family. It was enough for any ten-year-old. How should I have forseen what would be my fate?
For two years I was happy. I worked hard yet it did not seem like work to me. To reach out with heart and mind. To share the life of the hive. All of that was a wonder to me. Most of our hives contained the small stingless bees of our ancient heritage. But a year before Ithia bespoke me, she had gone on a journey. From that she had returned with two new queens. They were larger, blacker, and fierce.
These she had given the two new hives, and when they bred we had different bees within those hives. They were not so large as the queens, but they were dangerous. They could sting well, and far more importantly for Honeycoombe, they worked further into the Fall, began earlier in Spring. I watched them one day and marveled at their industry.
“Ithia, where did the new bees come from?”
The wise woman hesitated, then she answered me. “From a place two days walk from here.” She moved away around the hives, looking to see that none were nearby. “Meive, this is a thing of the bees. You may not speak of it to any. Do you understand?”
I was proud to be trusted. “I swear. May the bees hear my oath.”
Ithia sat on an out-thrust of rock. “Very well. You know I walk often beyond the dale. I search for better pastures for the winged-ones. For different flowers which will enrich their honey for us. I was traveling for that reason ten years ago. In a secret place I found that something called me to come further. I obeyed.”
I listened, my eyes widening as Ithia described her adventure. A place of the Old Ones. Yet linked to Ithia by bonds she could not mistake.
“And you were given the queens?”
“Not given. That which dwells there asked if they were willing. They came at their own desire. They remain at their pleasure. They are their own gift.”
“It was a great gift,” I said, my eyes glowing at an idea. “Should we not return to tell the one who dwells there of how her children do?”
Ithia smiled. “I have done so each year since you joined me.”
“Oh.” That, I thought, explained Ithia's absences. I had noticed that in past years after the hives were moved into the hills for Spring, Ithia had been gone some days. “Will you take me there next time?”
“Not yet.” Ithia stood and smiled down at me. “But I think it is time that you joined me here in my cottage. How will that please you?”
I beamed. “Very well, Ithia. I can bring my things over now. Da will help. Is there anything special I should bring?”
“Whatever of yours you wish to have in the cottage,
child. Go now and tell your father. He may wish you to spend another night or two.”
child. Go now and tell your father. He may wish you to spend another night or two.”
My father did. I found that was because he and my mother wished to have a special dinner for me. I was set at the head of the table, a toast was drunk to me, and my favorite foods were laid before us. I would be sad to leave my family, but my younger sisters Jenna and Saria were delighted. They would have more room now. My older brother, Welwyn, pretended to be pleased, too. There would be fewer sisters to plague him, he growled. But it was he who pressed a last gift into my hands when he and my father left me with Ithia.
I opened the small parcel and gaped. Ithia studied the gift. “So, your brother has a talent of his own.” I could only turn my gift over admiringly and agree with that. From somewhere Welwyn had found a root. I know not how much like to its ending its first shape may have been, but now it was a queen of the winged-ones. Every line was perfect and in her head were set tiny black gems as eyes.
So fine was it that almost I expected her to fly free and join the hives. She perched on a small stump of another wood which spread at the base to stand firm. It was a marvelous piece of work and I would treasure it. I carried it inside to place on the shelf my father had nailed beside my bed. There was just room beside my candlestick. Ithia was brisk.
“It is a wonderful gift, but now we have work to do.” Before I could start remembering that I was apart from my family, she swept me into such a frenzy of cleaning and polishing that I went to bed and slept dreamlessly in exhaustion. After that the pattern of my days set slowly. I was happy, and it seemed that Ithia was well pleased with my work for I did indeed learn eagerly.
That year she left for the place of the Old Ones to give thanks. Although I pleaded to come with her I would be remaining behind, but to soothe my disappointment, Ithia
made me a map showing the path. I knew the first portion, it led to the furthest bee-pastures where we sometimes shifted the hives at High Summer. In certain years rare flowers grew there which produced honey that had abilities other than food and ordinary healing.
made me a map showing the path. I knew the first portion, it led to the furthest bee-pastures where we sometimes shifted the hives at High Summer. In certain years rare flowers grew there which produced honey that had abilities other than food and ordinary healing.
The honey from those years Ithia would distill to an essence which was a reviving cordial. There was so little it was never sold, but kept instead for our own people. It saved more than one, but from prudence none spoke of it. Should such a cordial become widely known Honeycoombe could be a target for greedy men, and of those there were always more than enough since the land was no longer at peace. We knew there had been war in the land, but our home was overlooked since it was small and lay hidden deep in the vast sweep of the uplands.
Other books
The Stolen Princess by Anne Gracie
On the Dog by J.C. Greenburg
Beast from Beneath the Cafeteria! by Tony Abbott
Lone Wolf #9: Miami Marauder by Barry, Mike
Before Her Billionaires by Julia Kent
Crossing Borders by Z. A. Maxfield
Customize My Heart by Richard, By Bea
[Project Nemesis] Jungle Fever by Celeste Anwar
Ash by Shani Petroff
Raven Walks by Ginger Voight
