hold within it a large canopied bed, a dining or conference table, and an area set about with
cushions and low stools for more casual conversing—but instead of being scarlet it was of a
vivid blue, picked out with gold and silver braiding, and hung about with tiny bells and golden
tassels.
The tent itself was extraordinary enough, but the great pennant that fluttered from its
pinnacle was almost miraculously lovely.
It had been sewn with cloth of a blue far more vivid than that of the tent. On this field of
blue someone had stitched a device that left Ishbel momentarily speechless.
The device depicted an outstretched woman”s arm, pale-skinned and delicately fingered.
About the arm coiled a slim golden rope, its coils and knots intricate about the upper part of the
woman”s arm, but uncoiling to simplicity by the time it reached her wrist.
Behind the woman”s hand was depicted the faint outline of a rising sun.
“I have been working on that pennant for many months,” Madarin said softly, “and
looking for the opportunity to give it to you for weeks now. I wanted to give you something, as
you had given me my life—something that represented who and what you are.”
“Madarin…” Ishbel didn”t know what to say, or how to thank him.
“The tent,” Madarin said, his voice a little choked at the tears gleaming in Ishbel”s eyes,
“is a spare tent that Isaiah carries with him on campaigns. It can be used by him if his usual
scarlet tent is damaged, or it can be used for a visiting, or captured, king. I do not think he will
mind that now you use it.”
Ishbel wiped away a tear, then turned to Madarin and made a slight bow. “Thank you,
Madarin. You have no idea what you have done for me this day.”
The tent was simply but comfortably furnished. Ishbel washed, then unwrapped the
goblet. She stood a while, staring at the beautifully caged glass, running a soft fingertip over the
frogs gamboling about the reeds.
Then she lay down to sleep, curling her naked body about the goblet under the blanket.
She sighed, and drifted into sleep to the goblet”s soft refrain.
Hold me, soothe me, love me.
Ishbel slept, and for the first time in many years, she did not dream.
An hour or two into sleep, Ishbel”s arms relaxed enough that the Goblet of the Frogs
rolled slightly away from her body. The goblet dislodged the covering blanket as it moved,
exposing its rim to the night air.
For long minutes after that movement there was nothing but stillness, then something
stirred within the yawning mouth of the goblet.
The darkness within the goblet bulged, then something emerged, jumped across Ishbel”s
white arm—causing her to stir a little, but not wake—and leaped down silently to the floor.
It was a large gray rat.
It paused a moment, looking about the tent, its dark eyes gleaming, then it scampered for
the door and slid underneath its loose canvas bottom.
Minutes later it was moving about the boundary of the encampment, scurrying from
shadow to shadow, until it reached open ground and was free to race southward across the
snow-covered plains.
CHAPTER FOUR
The Sky Peaks Pass
Ravenna stood in the tent she shared with her mother and Maximilian. She had not
returned immediately to this tent after Maximilian had left her, but had walked a while in the
night, thinking.
“Maximilian acknowledged you before Ishbel?” Venetia said. She was a striking woman,
in her dark coloring and beauty much like her daughter, but with more warmth about her eyes
and mouth.
Ravenna folded a blanket from the bed she shared with Maximilian, then shook it out and
began folding it over again. “Yes.”
She glanced at her mother and gave a small smile. “You are surprised.”
“Yes, I am.”
“Well—I think he regrets it now. We argued over Ishbel, and he walked away from me,
angry. I think he went back to her. Has he come here?”
Venetia shook her head. “Ravenna, you can”t stand between those two, even with that
child you are carrying.”
“Mother, I have no choice. I—”
“Why? Why? Ravenna, I do not understand this desperate clinging to a man! No marsh
witch needs a man the way you seem to want to cling to Maximilian!”
Venetia stopped, took a deep breath and moderated her tone. “Maximilian loves Ishbel
and is uncomfortable with you as his lover—you must know this. None of this makes sense to
me.”
Ravenna took her mother”s hand, and they sat down on the edge of the bed.
“When I first came back from the Land of Dreams, that night of the storm, I appeared on
your doorstep with Maximilian and StarDrifter. Remember?”
Venetia nodded.
“We talked,” Ravenna said. “I told you that I”d felt something darker coming, something
from another world.”
“Yes, I remember.”
“I said I felt as if the world was about to pull apart.”
“Yes.”
“I was not entirely honest with you. I did not tell you all I had seen or come to
understand.”
Ravenna paused, choosing her words carefully. “Maximilian and Elcho Falling, and
through them this land, are under dire threat, Mother. There is something coming, something
vile, something which will wrench apart this entire world.”
“Ravenna—”
“Ishbel is its servant. Not willingly, nor even consciously, but in some manner she is the
catalyst of disaster. If Maximilian takes her back as wife…I am not sure how, nor even why, but if he does that, then he is lost, and Elcho Falling is lost, and all falls into catastrophe.”
Ravenna gently stroked her mother”s hand. “That is why I act as I do. That is why I fight
to keep Maximilian away from Ishbel, and why, in the end, I conceived this child. I do not know
if Maxel is strong enough to resist Ishbel”s dangerous charm. Tonight he kept turning back to
her, so I took him into the Land of Dreams and showed him what had been shown to me.”
“And?”
“He was angry. I showed him what he did not want to know. He turned from me and
walked away.”
“Ravenna…” Venetia did not know how to put what she needed to say. “Maximilian is a
powerful man, one who knows his own mind. You can”t force him to do anything.”
“I know, and that is why I am terrified he won”t listen to me.”
“Ravenna, you said the child…you conceived the child because you were afraid that you
would not, in the end, be able to keep Maximilian from Ishbel. How does the child help?”
“How? This is a son I carry, Mother. Maximilian”s heir. The next Lord of Elcho Falling
should Maximilian fail. Or be tempted into ruination.”
That pronouncement stunned Venetia into a momentary silence. Marsh women ensured
they only ever conceived daughters. They had no use for male children, their world being an
entirely feminine one, save for those occasions when they went to men to get with child.
“A son? What use do you have for a son, Ravenna?”
“Not for me, mother. For Elcho Falling. A new lord, should Maximilian fall.”
Venetia stood up, pulling her hand from Ravenna”s grasp. She moved to stand by the
brazier and held out her hands, as if she were cold.
As indeed she was. Cold penetrated to the very depths of her soul, but Venetia did not
think the heat from the brazier would help that chill.
What in the name of all gods was Ravenna doing? She thought to toy in something that
was far, far beyond her, and Venetia did not like to think of the consequences.
Ravenna rose to her feet and moved to where Maximilian had left his pack. She
rummaged within it for a moment, Venetia turning to watch her, then she straightened, a bundle
in her hands.
“Ravenna! You cannot take the Weeper!”
“It is too dangerous to leave in Maximilian”s hands. This bronze statue contains a great
and powerful mystery, and may aid me to…oh!”
Venetia came over. “Ravenna? What happened?”
“The damn thing hissed at me!”
“Leave it, Ravenna! The Weeper is not yours, nor is Elcho Falling”s destiny your
concern. Why can”t you see sense?”
Ravenna hugged the cloth-wrapped bronze statue close, even though its hissing was now
distinctly audible. “I am going to do everything I can, Mother, to ensure that Elcho Falling—”
“Put that down.”
Both women turned to face the tent entrance.
Maximilian stood there, one hand still holding back the flap of canvas that served as a
door. “Put it down, Ravenna.”
“Maxel,” Ravenna said, “I was just—”
“Put it down! ”
She held his eyes for a long moment, then very quietly and with great deliberation laid
the Weeper on the bed.
Maximilian walked forward, retrieved the Weeper, then brushed past Ravenna to where
his pack lay to one side of the bed.
“Did Ishbel take you back?” Ravenna said.