When Thëanetsa awoke from runesleep she was utterly abashed. Not only had she failed to rob Slungandi of the shard of the Talyoran, she had herself been robbed of her swan-cloak, which alone entitled her to honour and favour at the court of the Lady of the Lake. The servants of the Lady, who had respectfully withdrawn so that she might reclothe herself, now returned to escort her into Endáyra’s presence. The Lady, with her followers assembled around her, rose and looked sternly upon Thëanetsa, saying:
No shame to fail the shard to get:
We overlook that lack. But its loss never,
By the sly escape of Slungandi —
All force taken from the Talyoran.
That great failure we forgive you not,
Nor your swan-cloak’s theft by the sly trickster.
We now banish you from bounds of Fleswen.
If you gain the shard and shape of swan,
With both come back to bank of Fleswen,
Highest honour in Aulihaudë
Will be Thëanetsa’s thanks for ever.
If swan-cloak only the swan-people
Shall reclaim you; but my court never.
Then, with her few belongings in a sack at her back, Thëanetsa in disgrace was rowed across to the northern shore of Fleswen ta Féorë and put out upon the land.
Thëanetsa had only one purpose in mind: to regain her swancloak from Slungandi. She believed that she had no hope of depriving him of the shard of the Talyoran, even though that would gain her honour in the Isle. She merely hoped to be admitted back into the company of the swanfolk. Her anger with Slungandi carried her almost blindly into the great Forest. When darkness fell, she was lost.
Then began the Voices. The voices of the wood dwellers, the Fâdhéri, were calling, one to another. Their sounds were rich and beautiful. The dark shapes of the trees seemed to bend towards the sound. And where the voices arose, there also came dim lights, violet, orange, pale green, and piercing blue. The lights rippled with the sounds of the voices.
The green, the silver, the gold, the blue
The flickering lights, calling to you.
Searching, seeking, what will you find?
Will it bring peace to your troubled mind?
Thëanetsa walked towards the sound by the guidance of the undulating lights. Always it seemed as if the lights were brighter at a distance, and the sweet voices drew her on.
And then she drew near to a clearing that seemed full of light. She ran into the open space. But abruptly the lights were quenched and the voices fell silent. She stood in the darkness for a moment and then a very different light, the gleam of a burning torch, fell upon her, and rough hands seized hold of her arms. She caught sight of the faces of two of the Hawkheaded Ones, the Falakkazri, whom mortals fear. She, a maiden of the Silúna, had no fear of them, merely disgust at their ugliness.
‘This is surely she whose cloak the Fûbraváni had by him, cousin! Now we have both the keys we need!’
‘Aye, you speak wisely, cousin. She will help us, doubt not!’
Having overcome her surprise and disgust, Thëanetsa said:
‘By what right do you hold me, foul half-blood of the noble Ainë? The Lady Endayra will have you immersed for half an Age when she learns of this ill treatment!’
‘The noble Lady of the Lake will not trouble herself for one who has forfeited her swanship! But you would doubtless like to win back your priceless swancloak, my lady?’
And here his companion held up a bundle in the light of the flaming torch, and Thëanetsa recognized in the Falakkaswa’s bony claw the fair aspect of her swancloak.
‘By the might of Endayra, give back that hallowed garment! You, renegades of the winged Doitherúna, you are not worthy to touch it!’
‘Oh yes, my lady, we shall return it to you, for we have no use for it. But only in exchange for a small service.’
‘And what may that be?’
‘Bring the Fûbraváni, Silûnakánti, the Drumster of the Deep, or by whatever name you know him, to the chamber of Dreygan in Onskabâ, under the Round Halls of Kapgar Kûm. We have dealings to deal with him, and scores to settle.’
‘How can I do that? He renounced the service of Dreygan and fled to the Lady Endayra’s protection long ago after the chaining of Oigenas. Nothing will induce him to go back.’
‘Oh no, my lady, pity will take him back. You will tell him how we have conveyed your swancloak to the Lord Dreygan and how he will bestow it upon Agyavad, the fairest of the Runewives. And that she will search the Deep until she learns the runes that rule its use, and she will turn herself into a swanmaiden, the Dark Swanmaiden of Onskabâ! When he hears this, Slungandi’s wrath will kindle, and he will come to Kapgar Kûm, and we shall entertain him, and you shall have your swancloak back.’
‘And if I refuse this?’
‘Then we shall beg the Lord Dreygan to bestow the swancloak upon Agyavad, the fairest of the Runewives. And she will search the Deep until she learns the runes that rule its use, and she will turn herself into a swanmaiden, the Dark Swanmaiden of Onskabâ!’
‘You are foul villains. I will bring Silûnakánti to Onskabâ, and he will gain me back my swancloak. And may he slay you all.’
‘And, my lady, there is somewhat that the Drumster of the Deep weareth close to his heart, that we may take from him if we get the advantage of him, and it is a thing of power that you know of, and perhaps we shall gift you with it likewise.’
Then Thëanetsa perceived that they spoke of the shard of the Talyoran, and desire awoke in her to bring it back to the Isle in triumph, and to gain the highest favour of the Lady of the Lake.
‘Farewell, my lady! We doubt not that you will do as we have asked!’
Then the Falakkazri let go of her arms and departed with her swancloak and their flaming torch, leaving her in the dark.
But it was not for long. The voices began again with their calm, smooth lilting, and again there came the play of soft coloured lights upon the boles of the trees all about.
Gold and silver, green and blue,
The lights are come to lead you through,
Whom do you seek? Is he true?
Will he please to go with you?
Once more Thëanetsa followed the voices where they led her, and once more, as she stumbled into a glade of the wood, the voices fell silent and the lights went out. But now night was passing, it was first light, and in the greyness she could discern a figure seated against the trunk of a great tree. Then she saw that it was Silûnakánti, the thief of her swancloak, and she grew very angry. At the same moment he recognized her, and sprang up to greet her.
Be not angry, Lady Thëanetsa. It was most needful that I should escape from the Isle, and my intent was, most truly, to send you back the swancloak by the courtesy of the Ainë of Zorthin. It was unfortunate that, harried by true swans, I sank to earth exhausted and was robbed of the swancloak while I slept. And I am at a loss to know who the thief is!
Then Thëanetsa veiled her anger within her heart, and spoke thus:
For one who is not accustomed to flight, swan form is indeed wearying, Lord Silûnakánti. And I can tell you of the thief, for as I came this way, I encountered two of the accursed Falakkazri, who mocked me for the loss of my swancloak, and told me that their comrades were conveying it to the Lord Dreygan and that he would bestow it upon Agyavad, who they say is the fairest of the Runewives, and that she will search the Deep until she learns the runes that rule its use, and will turn herself into a swanmaiden, the Dark Swanmaiden of Onskabâ. O my Lord Silûnakánti, win back my swancloak for me, I beg of you!
And Slungandi said:
I doubt you not, Lady, but how may we be certain that this tale of theirs was true?
Then Thëanetsa was at a pass, for she could not say that she had seen the swancloak in the hands of the Falakkazri, so, hesitating, she said:
I know not why they should lie! I know further only that they took the swancloak from beside my lord Silûnakánti as he slept. For when they saw me, one said to the other: “This is surely she whose cloak the Fûbraváni had by him.”
Then said Slungandi, though he suspected Thëanetsa’s designs:
It is as likely as not, for I know those villains well, and they are always ready to pilfer. I know Dreygan the Icesmith too, and he is so besotted with the Runewives that he may very well do what they told you. Since it is I who have lost your swancloak, it is for me to regain it.
Then Thëanetsa rejoiced, for she thought her aim would soon be fulfilled.
But Slungandi thought:
There is no water in Onskabâ, for it is a cavern of ice. Where would a swan swim beneath Kapgar Kûm, if not in the Secret River, which is wild for most of its length, and in which the only calm pool lies by the Giants’ Quay, the Segen ta-Gangri? And who knows of that place, save I, the seeker-out of the secrets of Hogunoth?
No comments:
Post a Comment