Black Pearls - Louise Hawes [60]
"Ah, yes," my brothers told their dying mother. "Here's a healthy, normal babe for you at last." They had crowded around me, patting my ugly head, kissing my withered limbs.
"Just look at his handsome face," crowed Rowan. "And his body," admired Gwiffert, "how firm and straight it is!" "He will be as tall as an oak," promised Timias, tears blinding his eyes. "As strong as any man for miles," wept Dynll.
Only Ferin and Corwyn, too young to play the game, began to protest that the baby's head was much too large for its body, that its eyes bulged horribly from their sockets. So they were banished from the room and did not see our mother sigh, draw me to her, and whisper in my ear, "The best for last, sweet Erin. I saved the best for last." Dynll says I never cried until they took me from her arms.
The fire was a gray powder, but still I could not let Diamonda go. "There is no reason to run away," I insisted. "This poor place is probably the last spot on earth your stepmother's soldiers would look for you. Why, you could stay safe here forever while that greedy monster tears up the country for miles around."
"I wish it were true, but the smith's wife told me today there's a brigade of royal troops camped near Higman's Crossing." Diamonda poured the last of her tea over the ashes, then bent her head over the empty cup. "I wonder why the money isn't enough, Erin. She has all of Father's fortune. Why does she need my death?"
"Perhaps," I said, stiffening with pleasure as she took the hand I offered, "your stepmother is afraid you will change your mind about renouncing your inheritance. She has only to look at you to know there is no man alive who would not fight to the death to support you."
The more she smiled, the more I wanted to prove my words, to show her I meant what I said. "To the death, I swear it!" I yelled, struggling to my feet, Punch determined to fell giants.
"Many thanks, sweet Erin." She was whispering now; my battle cry already had the others stirring in their sleep overhead. "But your death would hardly please me." She stood then, too, and put her hand on my shoulder, which shook like a thing apart. "What you can do for my sake is sleep well tonight and help me tell the others in the morning."
Sleeping well was an art I lost that night. When they learned how close the troops were, my brothers decided to spread the story in the village that our visitor had gone back to her home and family. This precaution, though it proved necessary, forced Diamonda to live like a prisoner in our dark cottage. And I? I lay awake each night, grieving her loss. Who is warmed by a transient sun? What sort of reprieve was it to live with the knowledge she would have to leave us?
As the days wore on, Diamonda was no happier than I. Each morning, as we left for the mines, our royal stowaway seemed more nervous, less patient. She seldom complained, but her eyes were distant and uncertain, her songs turned sad, and she paced when she walked. "I feel as if I am on a draughts board with nowhere to go," she told me one morning. "At least let us steal out after sunset, Erin. We can skate by moonlight and you can tell me all the stars' names, the way you used to." She made it sound as though she were yearning for something that had happened years ago instead of weeks. And she made it impossible for me to say no.
We waited until well after dark, then set out with torches across the snow. When we reached the pond, she ran toward it with a little shriek of delight. She stooped to put on the skates I had carved her from a yew branch, then, like a finch loosed from its cage, sped out onto the ice. "Hurry up, Erin!" Her shadow darted and wove over the shining ground. "Look—I have already learned to skate backwards!"
Though I would have been content to stand and watch her forever, I put on my skates and followed her onto the sheet of moonlight. I have been skating as long as I can remember, and though she learned quickly, I still had a few tricks to teach her. She liked my leaps the best; she held her