Bones of the Dragon - Margaret Weis [176]
Aylaen pressed her cheek against his shoulder and gazed up at him. “You will talk to Skylan. Tell him about us. Tell him we’re going to be married. Tell him you’re not going with him when he sails to war.”
Garn sighed. “It’s not that simple—”
“It can be, if you want it to be,” said Aylaen. She drew back, frowning. “You do want us to be married, don’t you?”
“You know I do. More than anything in the world.” Garn kissed her on the forehead.
“Then tell that to Skylan,” Aylaen urged.
“I will,” Garn said, and he added quietly and sadly, almost to himself, “It won’t be that simple.”
Aylaen heard him, but she pretended not to.
Two others heard him—Wulfe and the naiad who guarded the spring.
Wulfe had made friends with all the fae who dwelt in the meadows, the woods, and the waters around the Torgun village. He spent his days roaming the woodlands, visiting with the fae folk. Though he liked Skylan’s people, considering them far easier to live with than the druids, he was much more comfortable among the fae.
The boy had soon found living on the dragonship with only the dragon for company to be both boring and uncomfortable. The Dragon Kahg was not an amiable companion. He never spoke, and he always glared at Wulfe whenever he came on deck.
Skylan had not thought it wise to take the strange boy among the Heudjun, who were still getting used to their Chief of Chiefs, and he sent Wulfe to live in his father’s dwelling. But Wulfe did not like the cramped, dark, and smoky house, and he was still a little afraid of the Torgun, who, unlike the druids, were given to strong emotions that they never bothered to hide.
At first their loud voices had frightened him. The boy had spent a great deal of time shivering beneath a table or hiding in a corner. Eventually he came to see that although the Vindrasi were loud, boisterous, and contentious, they were not dangerous. (Had Wulfe seen them at war, he would have changed his mind and gone away in terror of them.)
As it was, once he got over his fear, he found he liked the raucous laughter and the singing and round oaths. Best of all, unlike the druids, the Torgun had no interest in trying to educate Wulfe. Skylan had told the boy he had to work to earn his keep. Wulfe was quite willing to do this, and he’d gone to the fields to tend the crops or herd cattle with the other children.
This had not worked out. The children complained that Wulfe spent all his time talking to himself. (He was talking to the fae, but they did not know that.)
The boy did have a way with animals, and that, too, proved unfortunate. The sheep tended to follow him about and ended up trampling the crops. Horses came running across the fields when he called, behaving like silly colts when they were around him, lowering their heads to be rubbed and nuzzling his neck. Crows would land on his shoulder and eat grain out of his hand. Meadow larks would sing for him.
Eventually Wulfe found his own place among the Torgun. The dryads told him about Owl Mother. He sought her out, and the two became fast friends. Owl Mother soon discovered Wulfe’s secrets. Gifted with fae magic herself, Owl Mother had taught Wulfe that while such powers could be used to harm, they were not inherently harmful. Wulfe had to practice, learning how to wield his magic as Skylan wielded his sword. The rest of the Torgun people thought the boy was crazy, but they considered him harmless. They did not know there was a dark side to Wulfe. They did not know about his daemons. Thus far, he’d had the strength to fight them off, a strength that rose out of his love for Skylan.
Wulfe only vaguely remembered his father, whose image was a mixture of the wolf he’d been by day and the human he’d become at night. He had adored his mother, and he was heartbroken when she had quit coming to see him. The fae were wayward in their passions, something Wulfe only dimly understood. His mother had loved her son with her whole being,