Wizard of the Grove by Tanya Huff Page B

crowd. “His youth has returned.”
    Rael’s eyes widened, joy beginning to surface, but Milthra shook her head.
    â€œIt is an appearance only, my child,” she said. “Death is the true son of the Mother and not even I can stop him.” And then she looked beyond Rael, to the young man who stood in his shadow. The young man that only she, of all the hundreds in the Square, could see.
    Under the weight of her regard, Lord Death bowed his head and when he raised it again said softly: “I would spare you both if my nature allowed it, Eldest.”
    Raen looked down at his body and raised his hands to his face.
    â€œIt’s true!” His voice throbbed with passion. “I’m a man again. I am as I was in my prime!” He held out his arms and Milthra lay down beside him, her head pillowed on his chest.
    â€œAs you always were to me, beloved, and as you always will be now.”
    He kissed her once, softly, and then together they died.
    The silence was so complete, the crowd so quiet and still, that the sunlight bathing the bodies in golden luminescence could almost be heard. From the distance, from the forest, came the sound of thunder.
    Belkar stepped forward and three times opened his mouth to speak. Finally, his voice got past his grief and filled the Square.
    â€œThe king is dead!”
    And then he dropped on one knee before the tall young man with eyes the green of new spring leaves.
    â€œLong live the king!”
    *   *   *
    Rael buried his mother and father in the Sacred Grove under the remains of his mother’s tree. It had been hit by lightning and then consumed by fire until only a charred stump remained. Not one of the other trees, or even so much as a blade of grass, had been touched.
    â€œThis stump shall be your headstone,” he said softly, patting the last bit of earth into place. “And I will see that none disturb your rest.”
    â€œ
I
won’t cry for them” he had told Belkar, “for they’re together at last and even in death that is no cause for grief.”
    As the young king left the Grove, he thought he heard women’s voices, lamenting, soft with sorrow, but when he turned, he saw only the wind moving through the circle of trees and leaves falling to cover the grave.

I NTERLUDE O NE
    R ael joined with the Duke of Belkar’s blue-eyed daughter and their years together were filled with love and laughter and children. He never found the common touch that had so endeared his father to the people, but he ruled well and was always after remembered as just.
    For all the years of Rael’s reign, Doan, the Captain of the Elite, stood by his side. His unaging presence became a part of the king: two arms, two legs, and the captain. And when he buried his sword in Rael’s grave and vanished from mortal lands, that too was accepted with no surprise. It could not be imagined he would serve another.
    The death of the Eldest became the subject of a thousand songs and in her honor, or perhaps to save her sisters from a like fate, Rael, as his first act as Lord of Ardhan, forbade all mortals entry to the Grove, swearing those who knew its direction to oaths of secrecy. Over forty years later, when his son took the throne, time had erased the reality of both the Lady and the circle of silver birch and left only the songs.
    *   *   *
    The dwarf stepped back from the sapling and nodded once. “Just like you said.”
    The great black centaur that stood beside him returned the nod, although both kept their eyes on the tiny tree. Around them, the Sacred Grove was silent and still. No leaf rustled, for no breeze dared to intrude.
    â€œCan They hope to succeed?” the centaur asked at last.
    Doan shrugged. “I don’t see why not. This,” he waved a hand aboutthe Grove, “is the oldest magic in the world and They’ve woven themselves into it. Sacrificed Themselves to do it.