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By Root 1217 0

For a solid week both the dun and the entire city were given over to splendid festivities: mock combats, feasts, bardic competitions, guild parades, more feasts, regattas out on the harbor and dancing in the city squares. Wherever the new king went, the silver daggers went, too, as his personal guard of honor, all decked out in ship-blazoned shirts and red cloaks as a mark of their sudden status. Since the king had to attend every festivity, even if he could only stay for a little while, the troop sailed through those warm spring days on a drunken tide of laughter. Through the lot of them Maddyn wandered like a haunt, never smiling, talking only rarely, occasionally snarling at Branoic, who followed him everywhere, and then just as suddenly apologizing again. Yet even in his grief-shot rage he saw himself clearly, knew that part of his pain was the simple and certain knowledge that in time the pain would disappear, the mourning be over, and Aethan become only a memory kept alive by the death-song his Mend the bard had made about him. In odd moments, when he could snatch a little peace from the celebrating, he would work on the gorchan and even at times get a word of advice or encouragement from one of the royal bards, who seemed to find his efforts at formal poetry touching in a childlike way.

Just after dawn one morning, before either the king or Branoic was up and around, he slipped off by himself to a hidden corner of the ward and sat down on a pile of old burlap sacks to tune his harp. He worked mechanically, humming out the intervals and tuning up the strings without consciously hearing himself, because he was thinking of all the times he’d done this job when Aethan was sitting nearby teasing him about how slow he was, or how sour the harp sounded, or other little jokes that somehow never rankled. All at once he was aware of being watched and looked up to find the queen herself standing nearby. She was barefoot, wearing a shabby pair of blue dresses, with her uncombed hair streaming over her shoulders, and she was carrying a bowl of milk.

“Your Highness! My apologies! I didn’t see you.”

“Don’t get up and bow and all that. I just crept out to get a bit of milk for my cat. She had four kits in the last watch of the night.”

“Well, my congratulations to her, then, but, Your Highness, you should have let a servant—”

“Oh, I suppose you’re right, but truly, I’m not used to all this bowing and scraping, and having people swarm all around me all the time.” She yawned, covering her mouth with her free hand. “Maryn was still asleep when I left. I’d best get back, I suppose. But how come you’re sitting out here to play?”

“I just wanted a private spot, like.”

“Well, come with me, and I’ll show you a nicer one. It’s supposed to be only for the royal family, but Maryn was telling me how much he honors you and Caradoc and Owaen, so you can use it, too.”

Scooping up his harp, Maddyn followed her inside one of the towers, up half a flight of steps, down another, round a corner and through a maze of corridors, into another tower and out again, until at last he recognized that they were in a corridor that would eventually lead to the tower that housed the royal family. She ducked out one last little door, and they were in a garden, planted with roses and an enormous willow tree, all gnarled and drooping with age.

“There.” Bellyra looked around in satisfaction. “If you climb up into that tree, no one can see you, although, of course, if you’re playing, they’ll hear you. I used to come here a lot, but I won’t have time anymore.” She looked briefly sad. “Anyway, you can sit on the bridge if you don’t want to climb the tree, or just on the grass.”

“My humble thanks, Your Highness. I wonder if I’ll ever be able to find it again, though.”

“Oh, ask one of the pages. Tell them I said you could come here. I’d best get this milk to Melynna.”

She trotted off back inside, and Maddyn walked across the bridge and sat down cross-legged by the little stream. In the warm sun, sheltered by the rise of stone all round him, he felt a bit more