Windhaven - Страница 64

Dorrel frowned. “By doing what? Shooting a flight of arrows to knock us from the sky?”

“‘Us’?”

Dorrel shook his head, but he was smiling. “It could be dangerous, Maris. Trying to provoke him to action…”

His smiled heartened her. “The black flyers do nothing but fly. If Port Thayos grows agitated in their shadows, that is the work of the Landsman and his subjects.”

“Especially the singers and the healers—we know what troublemakers they can be! I’ll do as you ask, Maris. It will make a good story to tell my grandchildren, when they come along. I won’t have my wings much longer now anyway, with Jan getting to be such a good flyer.”

“Oh, Dorr!”

He held up one hand. “I will wear black as a sign of grief for Tya,” he said carefully. “And I will join the great circle that flies to mourn her. But I will do nothing that might be seen as condoning her crime, or expressing a sanction against Thayos for her death.” He stood up and stretched. “Of course, if anything should happen, if the Landsman should presume to exceed his powers and threaten the flyers, why then, we should all, one-wings and flyer-born, have to act together.”

Maris also stood. She was smiling. “I knew you would see it that way,” she said.

She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him to her in an affectionate hug. Then Dorrel lifted her face and kissed her, perhaps just for old times’ sake, but for a moment it was as if all the years that lay between them had never been, and they were youths again, and lovers, and the sky was theirs from horizon to horizon, and all that lay beneath it.

But the kiss ended, and they stood apart again: old friends linked by memories and faint regrets.

“Go safely, Dorr,” said Maris. “Come back soon.”

Returning from the sea cliffs, where she had seen Dorrel launch himself for Laus, Maris felt full of hope. There was sadness, too, beneath it—the old familiar longing had swept over her again as she helped Dorrel unfold his wings, and watched him mount the warm blue sky.

But the pain was a little less this time. Although she would have given anything to fly with Dorrel again, she had other things to think about now, and it was not so difficult to pull her hopeless thoughts away from the sky and think of more practical matters. Dorrel had promised to return soon, with more followers, and Maris enjoyed the vision of an even vaster circle of black flyers.

She was shocked out of her reverie as she approached Evan’s house, by the sound of a shriek from within.

She ran the last few steps and threw the door open. She saw at once that Bari was crying, Evan trying in vain to comfort her. Standing a little apart was S’Rella with a boy from Thossi.

“What’s wrong?” Maris cried, suspecting the worst.

At her voice, Bari turned and ran to her aunt, weeping. “My father, they took my father, make them, please make them…”

Maris embraced the weeping child and stroked her hair absently. “What’s happened to Coll?”

“Coll has been arrested and taken to the keep,” Evan said. “The Landsman has seized a half-dozen other singers as well—everyone known to have performed Coll’s song about Tya. He means to try them for treason.”

Maris continued to hold Bari tightly. “There, there,” she said. “Shh, shh, Bari.”

“There was a riot in Port Thayos,” said the boy from Thossi. “When they came to the Moonfish Inn to take Lanya the singer, the landsguard met with customers who tried to defend her. They beat the defenders off with clubs. No one was killed.”

Maris listened numbly, trying to absorb it, trying to think.

“I’ll fly to Val,” S’Rella said. “I’ll spread the word among the black flyers—they’ll all come. The Landsman will have to release Coll!”

“No,” said Maris. She still hugged Bari, and the child’s sobbing had ceased. “No, Coll is a land-bound, a singer. He has no claim upon the flyers—they would not rally together to defend him.”

“But he’s your brother!”

“That makes no difference.”

“We have to do something,” S’Rella insisted.

“We will. We had hoped to provoke the Landsman, but to make him strike at the flyers, not the land-bound. But now that it has happened… Coll and I discussed this possibility.” She raised Bari’s face gently with a finger beneath her chin, and wiped away her tears. “Bari, you have to go away now.”

“No! I want my father! I won’t leave without him!”

“Bari, listen to me. You must leave before the Landsman catches you. Your father wouldn’t want that.”

“I don’t care,” Bari said stubbornly. “I don’t care if the Landsman catches me! I want to be with my father!”

“Don’t you want to fly?” Maris asked.

“To fly?” Bari’s face suddenly lit up with wonder.

“S’Rella here will let you fly with her over the ocean,” Maris said, “if you’re big enough not to be afraid.” She looked up at S’Rella. “You can take her, can’t you?”

S’Rella nodded. “She’s light enough. Val has people on Thrynel. It’ll be an easy flight.”

“Are you big enough?” Maris asked. “Or would you be afraid?”

“I’m not scared,” Bari said fiercely, her pride wounded. “My father used to fly, you know.”

“I know,” Maris said, smiling. She remembered Coll’s terror of flight, and hoped that Bari hadn’t inherited that particular trait.

“And you’ll save my father?” Bari asked.

“Yes,” Maris said.

“And after I take her to Thrynel?” S’Rella said. “What then?”

“Then,” said Maris, standing and taking Bari by the hand, “I want you to fly to the keep with a message for the Landsman. Tell him that it was all my doing, that I put Coll and the other singers up to it. If he wants me, and he will, tell him I will turn myself over to him, just as soon as he releases Coll and the others.”

“Maris,” warned Evan, “he will hang you.”

“Perhaps,” said Maris. “That’s a chance I have to take.”

“He agrees,” S’Rella reported on her return. “As a sign of his good faith, he has released all the singers except Coll. They were taken away by boat to Thrynel, with orders never to return to Thayos. I witnessed their departure myself.”

“And Coll?”

“I was allowed to speak to him. He seemed unharmed, although he was worried that something might have happened to his guitar—they wouldn’t let him keep it. The Landsman has said he will hold Coll for three days. If you do not appear at his keep by then, Coll will hang.”

“Then I must go at once,” Maris said.

S’Rella caught her hand. “Coll told me to warn you away. He said you were not to come under any circumstances. That it was too dangerous for you.”

Maris shrugged. “Dangerous for him as well. Of course I will go.”

“It may be a trap,” Evan said. “The Landsman is not to be trusted. He may mean to hang you both.”

“That’s a risk I’ll have to take. If I don’t go, Coll is sure to hang. I can’t have that on my conscience—I got him into this.”

“I don’t like it,” Evan said.

Maris sighed. “The Landsman will have me sooner or later, unless I flee Thayos at once. By giving myself up to him, I have the chance to save Coll. And, perhaps, to do more.”

“What more can you do?” S’Rella demanded. “He’ll hang you, and probably your brother too, and that will be that.”

“If he hangs me,” said Maris calmly, “we will have our incident. My death would unite the flyers as nothing else could.”

The color drained out of S’Rella’s face. “Maris, no,” she whispered.

“I thought that might be it,” said Evan in a voice that was unnaturally calm. “So this was the unspoken twist in all your plans. You decided to live just long enough to be a martyr.”

Maris frowned. “I was afraid to tell you, Evan. I thought this might happen—I had to consider it when I made my plans. Are you angry?”

“Angry? No. Disappointed. Hurt. And very sad. I believed you when you told me you had decided to live. You seemed happier, and stronger, and I thought that you did love me, and that I could help you.” He sighed. “I didn’t realize that, instead of life, you had simply chosen what you thought would be a nobler death. I can’t deny you what you want. Death and I wrestle daily, and I have never found him noble, but perhaps I look too closely. You will have what you want, and after you are gone the singers will make it all sound very beautiful, no doubt.”

“I don’t want to die,” she said, very quietly.

She went to Evan and took him by the shoulders. “Look at me, and listen to me,” she said. His blue eyes met hers, and she saw the sorrow in them, and hated herself for putting it there.

“My love, you must believe me,” she said. “I go to the Landsman’s keep because it is all I can do. I must try to save my brother, and myself, and convince the Landsman that flyers are not to be trifled with.

“My plan is to push the Landsman until he breaks and does something foolish—I admit that. And I know that this is a dangerous game. I have known that I might die, or that one of my friends might die. But this is not, not an elaborate plan to make a noble death for myself.

“Evan, I want to live. And I love you. Please don’t doubt that.” She drew a deep breath, “I need your faith in me. I’ve needed your help and your love all along.

“I know the Landsman may kill me, but I have to go there, risk that, in order to live. It’s the only way. I have to do this, for Coll and for Bari, for Tya, for the flyers—and for myself. Because I have to know, really know, that I’m still good for something. That I was left alive for some purpose. Do you understand?”