cold figure lying upon the bed. Tears glistened on the cook’s
kindly face. It had obviously been her work-worn hands that
had composed the body for its final rest. The girl’s eyes
were shut, the cold, dead fingers folded across the breast, a
small bunch of roses held in their unfeeling grasp. A candle
shed its soft light upon the young face whose incredible
beauty was enhanced by a sweet, wistful smile upon the
ashen lips.
“Amberyl!” cried one of the strangers brokenly, sinking
down upon the bed and taking the cold hands in his.
Coming up behind him, the other stranger laid a hand upon
his companion’s shoulder.
“I’m truly sorry, Keryl.”
“We should have come sooner!” Keryl muttered,
stroking the girl’s hand.
“We came as quickly as we could,” his companion said
gently. “As quickly as she wanted us.”
“She sent us the message – ”
” – only when she knew she was dying,” said the
companion.
“Why?” Keryl cried brokenly, his gaze going to
Amberyl’s peaceful face. “Why did she choose to die among
. . . among these humans?” He gestured toward the cook.
“I don’t suppose we will ever know,” said his
companion softly. “Although I can guess,” he added, but it
was in an undertone, spoken only to himself and not to his
distraught friend. Turning away, he walked over to a cradle
that had been hastily constructed out of a wood box.
Whispering a word, he lifted the enchantment from the
baby, who drew a breath and began whimpering.
“The child?” the stranger said, starting up from the bed.
“Is her baby all right? What the servant girl said …” There
was fear in his voice. “It isn’t, it isn’t dea-” He couldn’t go
on.
“No,” said his friend in mystified tones. “It is not what
you fear. The servant girl said she’d never seen anything
more frightening. But the baby seems fine – Ah!” The
stranger gasped in awe. Holding the baby in his arms, he
turned toward his friend. “Look, Keryl! Look at the child’s
eyes!”
The young man bent over the crying baby, gently
stroking the tiny cheek with his finger. The baby turned its
head, opening its large eyes as it searched instinctively for
nourishment, love, and warmth.
“The eyes are . . . gold!” Keryl whispered. “Burning
gold as the sun! Nothing like this has ever occurred in OUR
people. … I wonder – ”
“A gift from her human father, no doubt. Although I know
of no humans with eyes like this. But that secret, too,
Amberyl took with her.” He sighed, shaking his head. Then
he looked back down at the whimpering baby. “Her
daughter is as lovely as her mother,” the man said, wrapping
the baby tightly in its blankets. “And now, my friend, we
must go. We have been in this strange and terrible land long
enough.”
“Yes,” Keryl said, but he made no move to leave.
“What about Amberyl?” His gaze went back to the pale,
unmoving figure upon the bed.
“We will leave her among those she chose to be with at
the end,” his companion said gravely. “Perhaps one of the
gods will accept her now and will guide her wandering
spirit home.”
“Farewell, my sister,” Keryl murmured. Reaching
down, he took the roses from the dead hands and, kissing
them, put the flowers carefully in the pocket of his tunic.
His companion spoke words in an ancient language, lifting
the enchantment from the inn. Then the two strangers,
holding the baby, vanished from the room like a shower of
silver, sparkling rain.
AND THE BABY WAS BEAUTIFUL, AS BEAUTIFUL
AS HER MOTHER. FOR IT IS SAID THAT, IN THE
ANCIENT DAYS BEFORE THEY GREW SELF-
CENTERED AND SEDUCED BY EVIL, THE MOST
BEAUTIFUL OF ALL RACES EVER CREATED BY THE
GODS WAS THE OGRE. . . .
Silver And Steel
Kevin D. Randle
It had finally come to this. A summer-long campaign
that had seen the Dark Queen pushed until the remnants of
her tattered army were grouped around her at the base of a
massive obsidian obelisk. A few thousand ragged warriors
and their tired, dirty families, waiting for the Queen to do