knowledge, experience. There is not one possession more truly, irrevocably yours. Drede has hired me to take that name from you for a while, then give it back to another woman, who will smile and accept it, and then give to Drede, without question, forever, what he asks.”
A sound came out of her, so sharp and grating she did not recognize her voice. It came again; she slid to her knees on the skins, the hot tears catching between her fingers. She groped for breath, words wrenching from her, “Help me—I am torn out of myself—”
“Have you never wept so before? You are fortunate. It will pass.”
She caught the sobbing between her clenched teeth, her hands clenched on the wool. She turned her head, looked up at him, her face glittering in the firelight.
“Let me see him. I will—I will do whatever he wants. Only do not take my will from me. I will marry him. I will walk meekly beside him—only let me choose to do so!”
The green eyes gazed down at her, inscrutable. The wizard moved after a moment, stooped beside her. He touched her face; tears winked like stars on his fingertips.
“I wept so once...” he whispered. “Many years ago, even with the ashes of years of loving and hating cold in my heart. I wept at the flight of the Liralen and the knowledge that though I might have power over all the earth that one thing of flawless beauty was lost to me... I never thought another thing of such white beauty would fall into my keeping. The King requires that it pass from my hands to his... And he such a small man to tame such freedom...”
“Will you let me talk to him?”
“How could he trust you? He trusted Rianna once, and she betrayed him in secret. He wants no betrayal this time. He is afraid of you and jealous of Coren. Yet your face burned once under his hand, and the young prince loves you. So he would take you to him—not powerless, but controlled.
“What is he paying you?”
The still eyes lined faintly in a smile. “All this—riches, leisurely hours in luxurious privacy, your animals, if I break the power of the Sirle family forever. I have not yet decided to do that.”
“Why is he not afraid of you?” she whispered. “I am.”
“Because when he first spoke to me, he had nothing else I wanted. Now, I am not sure of that.”
“What else do you want?”
“Do you seek to buy your freedom from me?”
“I cannot buy it from you! You must give it freely, if at all, out of pity.”
He shook his head slowly from side to side. “I have no pity. I have only awe of you... You have a powerful mind, lonely in its knowledge, for the experience of the mind is secret, unsharable. I have been in wastelands beneath the moon’s eye, in rich lords’ courts with the sound of pipe and heartbeat of drum... I have been in high mountains, in hot, small witches’ huts watching their mad eyes and fire-burned faces; I have spoken with the owl and the snow-white falcon and the black crow; I have spoken to the fools that dwell by thousands in crowded cities, men and women; I have spoken to cool-voiced queens. But never in all my wanderings did I dream there existed one such as you...” His hand lifted, the ringed finger touching a strand of her hair. She drew back a little, her eyes wide on his face.
“Please. Let me talk to Drede.”
“Perhaps...” He rose, stepped away from her. “Get up. Take your wet cloak off and warm yourself. I have hot food and wine. There is a bed for you with rich hangings behind that curtain and something else that belongs to you.”
She got up slowly, and drew back the white curtain. Ter Falcon perched on a stand of gold; his glittering eyes stared at her indifferently. She groped for his mind, speaking his name silently, but nothing of him answered her, and he did not move. She turned wearily.
“You are strong, Mithran... It is strange that I should be here at your mercy because I chose to love a helpless baby twelve years ago. I am afraid of you and Drede, but fear will not save me,
A sound came out of her, so sharp and grating she did not recognize her voice. It came again; she slid to her knees on the skins, the hot tears catching between her fingers. She groped for breath, words wrenching from her, “Help me—I am torn out of myself—”
“Have you never wept so before? You are fortunate. It will pass.”
She caught the sobbing between her clenched teeth, her hands clenched on the wool. She turned her head, looked up at him, her face glittering in the firelight.
“Let me see him. I will—I will do whatever he wants. Only do not take my will from me. I will marry him. I will walk meekly beside him—only let me choose to do so!”
The green eyes gazed down at her, inscrutable. The wizard moved after a moment, stooped beside her. He touched her face; tears winked like stars on his fingertips.
“I wept so once...” he whispered. “Many years ago, even with the ashes of years of loving and hating cold in my heart. I wept at the flight of the Liralen and the knowledge that though I might have power over all the earth that one thing of flawless beauty was lost to me... I never thought another thing of such white beauty would fall into my keeping. The King requires that it pass from my hands to his... And he such a small man to tame such freedom...”
“Will you let me talk to him?”
“How could he trust you? He trusted Rianna once, and she betrayed him in secret. He wants no betrayal this time. He is afraid of you and jealous of Coren. Yet your face burned once under his hand, and the young prince loves you. So he would take you to him—not powerless, but controlled.
“What is he paying you?”
The still eyes lined faintly in a smile. “All this—riches, leisurely hours in luxurious privacy, your animals, if I break the power of the Sirle family forever. I have not yet decided to do that.”
“Why is he not afraid of you?” she whispered. “I am.”
“Because when he first spoke to me, he had nothing else I wanted. Now, I am not sure of that.”
“What else do you want?”
“Do you seek to buy your freedom from me?”
“I cannot buy it from you! You must give it freely, if at all, out of pity.”
He shook his head slowly from side to side. “I have no pity. I have only awe of you... You have a powerful mind, lonely in its knowledge, for the experience of the mind is secret, unsharable. I have been in wastelands beneath the moon’s eye, in rich lords’ courts with the sound of pipe and heartbeat of drum... I have been in high mountains, in hot, small witches’ huts watching their mad eyes and fire-burned faces; I have spoken with the owl and the snow-white falcon and the black crow; I have spoken to the fools that dwell by thousands in crowded cities, men and women; I have spoken to cool-voiced queens. But never in all my wanderings did I dream there existed one such as you...” His hand lifted, the ringed finger touching a strand of her hair. She drew back a little, her eyes wide on his face.
“Please. Let me talk to Drede.”
“Perhaps...” He rose, stepped away from her. “Get up. Take your wet cloak off and warm yourself. I have hot food and wine. There is a bed for you with rich hangings behind that curtain and something else that belongs to you.”
She got up slowly, and drew back the white curtain. Ter Falcon perched on a stand of gold; his glittering eyes stared at her indifferently. She groped for his mind, speaking his name silently, but nothing of him answered her, and he did not move. She turned wearily.
“You are strong, Mithran... It is strange that I should be here at your mercy because I chose to love a helpless baby twelve years ago. I am afraid of you and Drede, but fear will not save me,
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