Days of Blood and Fire - Katharine Kerr [147]
“Oh. Well, more fool me!”
Still, he decided to try one more time. This time he sighted on a shed near the manse in the hopes that perhaps he could trick whatever road dweomer lay upon the place. The path led him right along to the lakeshore on the opposite side of the island. He turned to find the tower directly in his way.
“Rori!”
Angmar came striding along the lakeshore. He waited, afraid that if he went toward her, he’d lose her.
“My apologies,” she called out. “You’ve no dwarven blood, and by your onliness it be not allowed for you to come near the manse.”
“I see. This place has some powerful dweomers upon it.”
“You might say that.”
She strode up and joined him, her golden hair shining thick in the sun.
“No doubt you be a-wondering when my son will get himself home. From what the envoy has said, this task be needful for you to complete soon.”
“It is, truly. And sadly, as well. Haen Marn seems a pleasant place for a man to linger.”
She smiled, just faintly.
Rhodry caught movement out of the corner of his eye, glanced at the lake, and saw the woman with the spear, standing upon the water and watching him. When he caught his breath, Angmar turned and saw her as well. As before, the woman wept until he spoke to her.
“My lady, please, what aches your heart so badly?”
She vanished without a word. Angmar was considering him with a peculiar lack of expression, as if it were important for her to show not a shred of feeling.
“Well, here,” Rhodry said. “I don’t know how much it’s lawful for me to ask.”
“Ask all you want. The answering is mine to judge.”
“Fair enough, then. Whose spirit is that?”
“It be good you do ask, but that I mayn’t answer.”
“Ah. I rather thought not. Did you lay the dweomers here, my lady?”
“I did not, though I may maintain them, for I were not born here on Haen Marn.”
“And it’s needful that the lady of this place be born here?”
“It is. The last true lady had only sons, and I was brought here for the marrying of her eldest.” She seemed amused about something. “I think me you do understand the unwinding of dweomer ways more than another man might, Rori.”
“Whether I wanted it or no, the dweomer has ruled my life, my lady. I feel like one of those wild horses out on the grasslands, caught in elven ropes and dragged off where I’ve no stomach to go.”
“A bitter man you sound.”
“Do I? I suppose so. My Wyrd’s been a bitter one, you see, and it’s ruled me ever since I was a lad. I’ve given up kicking and let them saddle me.”
He strode to the edge of the lake, stooped and picked up a stone, rubbing it between his fingers. In a moment she joined him. When Rhodry sailed the stone flat over the lake, it skipped seven times before it finally sank, far out from shore.
“A good toss,” Angmar said, grinning.
“In Aberwyn, where I was born, they say that seven skips like that mean a good omen.”
“Do they now? Let us hope they be right,”
For a few moments they stood together looking across to the far shore. In the hot sun the forest exhaled a fine blue mist, beyond the power, apparently, of the endless wind to blow away.
“Well now,” Angmar said abruptly. “I do think my daughter may know when her brother will come back to Haen Marn.”
“I didn’t know you had a daughter.”
Angmar glanced up at the stone tower.
“I do, though a pitiful creature she be, a mooncalf, truly.”
“That aches my heart to hear.”
“Tell me, would you let her look upon you? I do have a reason for the asking.”
“Well, then, of course.”
“My thanks. Come with me.”
Angmar strode off, heading away from the lake toward the tower. Rhodry followed as she pushed open a heavy oak door in its base and led him inside to a tiny room smelling of damp and stone. An iron staircase spiraled up past landings and into shadow.
“You wear some talisman