Frostfell_ The Wizards - Mark Sehestedt [122]
"You went to Hro'nyewachu" said Amira. "Didn't you?"
Still he said nothing.
"Rathla?" said Lendri, awe in his voice. "Is this true?"
Durja squawked again and flapped his wings but did not leave his master's shoulder.
"I had no choice," said Gyaidun.
"You sought the Mother's Heart and lived?" said Lendri. "How…?"
"You are not Vil Adanrath," said Amira. "The belkagen said-"
"I am athkaraye," said Gyaidun. "Human, yes, but the blood of the Vil Adanrath lives in me through Lendri." He raised his right hand, opened it, and the gash showed plainly across his palm. "And through Hlessa, and through Erun."
"But the belkagen said you couldn't, said you hadn't studied the arcane or the ways of the gods, said-"
"The belkagen was one of the wisest I have ever known," said Gyaidun. "And I sometimes ill-treated him, to my shame. But he did not know everything."
"What do you mean?" said Lendri.
"Hro'nyewachu," said Gyaidun, "she… she is a being of… need."
"So said the belkagen. Yes."
"A mother's need," said Amira. "That's what he said. What the belkagen told me. 'Hro'nyewachu has a mother's heart.' He said I had a mother's need, and that our hearts would beat the same song."
Gyaidun looked back at his son, who had reached the omah nin and was presenting him with the fire. The Vil Adanrath chieftain stood tall and proud, almost rigid, but he took the fire.
"So how did you survive?" Lendri asked Gyaidun.
"I introduced her to a father's need."
"At the shore," said Amira, "after you came back, you were covered in blood. Much of it your own."
Gyaidun shrugged. His wounds had been tended, but he still bore many new cuts and scrapes. "It was not an easy… conversation. I…"
"What?"
Gyaidun stared into the fire a long while before answering. "I was blinded by grief, despair, anger. Kehrareth we would say. I… I think I went there hoping she would kill me. At least grant me a warrior's death. I went with no sacrifice."
Lendri gasped. Amira remembered what the belkagen had told her-"Hro'nyewachu is… akai'ye. There is no good word in your tongue. Ancient. Primal. Tame blood will not sate her. She needs the blood of the wild."
"The blood of the wild," said Amira. "She took your blood instead. As sacrifice."
Gyaidun flinched and looked back to his son, who now stood beside the omah nin, the pyre in front of them burning. "No," said Gyaidun. "Not me."
Amira followed his gaze. Erun stood beside his grandfather. The young man was considerably shorter, and emaciated as he was, still his countenance radiated power. He stood beside the omah nin an equal. What was it, Gyaidun had said, what had prompted this entire conversation? "Things happen quicker than I thought they would."
"Erun," said Amira. "She wants Erun. Doesn't she?"
Gyaidun said nothing, but the look on his face was all the answer that she needed.
"I wouldn't worry," said Amira. "I saw Erun on the island. I think he might give even Hro'nyewachu pause."
Lendri looked to his rathla and said, "What did she say, Brother?"
" 'I will require your blood,' " said Gyaidun. "Her words. I… I thought she meant me, and I did not care. But now…" He looked back to his son.
The omah nin had lit his pyre, and Erun was carrying the flame to the next one.
"Rathla," said Lendri, "do not dread. I do not think Hro'nyewachu would help you find your son only to take him again. 'I will require your blood.' Erun? Perhaps. But consider this. A belkagen-perhaps one of the greatest to have ever served our people-has left the world. His presence will be missed, and Hro'nyewachu … I do not think she will tolerate such an absence for long. Besides, look at him."
They did. All of them, even Mingan and Durja.
"Who does he remind you of?" said Lendri. "His gait. His confidence. 'My grandfather will take fire from me.' Such boldness."
Arantar, Amira wanted to say. He reminds me of Arantar. But she held her tongue.
"You think Erun might