Kushiel's Justice - Jacqueline Carey [100]
His flush deepened, but he nodded again and began to play an Eiran ballad, singing in a low voice.
He was good; good enough to play in any salon in Terre d'Ange. Although he sat hunched over his harp, his thin fingers plucked at the strings with graceful precision and the harp's tone rang out pure and sweet. Gradually, as he played, he sat straighter in the chair. His voice was rough with adolescence, but it held true.
"That was lovely," Phèdre said when he finished, smiling at him. "Thank you.”
Conor turned beet-red.
"My musical child," Grainne said fondly. "A gift of his father's.”
"You should play together." Under the table, Eamonn nudged my foot. "Imri's been practicing on the flute this whole way. He's not bad. Go on, go fetch your flute.”
"Later, mayhap," I demurred. "You lot must be weary of it.”
"I'm not." Conor looked directly at me for the first time. "I'd like it very much, Prince Imriel.”
"All right." I raised my brows. "Will you promise to call me Imriel, Prince Conor?”
He smiled and flushed yet again. "I will.”
Elua, I remembered that age! Awkwardness and embarrassment at every turn. Colts' Years, Joscelin said they called it in the Cassiline Brotherhood.
I fetched Hugues' flute and put on a solemn face. "Now, this is a D'Angeline song for very special occasions. On our journey, we translated it into Eiran to honor all of you. I'll play the first verse, and mayhap my lady wife will do the honor of singing for us?" I glanced sidelong at Dorelei, who looked bemused.
As soon as I blew the first few notes, she laughed. I played the song about the little brown goat and Dorelei sang along. Everyone laughed, hearing the verses. Conor grinned, his dark eyes sparkling. At the second verse, he joined us, playing a merry, lively accompaniment. His fingers danced over the strings, embellishing the simple child's melody in ways I'd never imagined.
"Very nice!" Eamonn applauded.
"You see it's true," Brennan said smugly. "He only needed hear it once.”
"Indeed." I lowered the flute, then paused. "Conor, if I played a tune for you, could you tell me if you'd heard it before?”
He nodded. "Yes, of course.”
I'd only played the opening measure of the mysterious piper's tune that haunted my nights when Conor turned ashen-pale.
"No!" he said violently. " 'Tis no tune I've ever heard.”
"Conor!" his mother said in surprise. "That's no call to be rude.”
"Sorry." He mumbled the apology, then rose abruptly and set his lap-harp on the table. "I've got to be gone. Sorry.”
I watched him leave, his narrow shoulders hunched and taut. "Did I offend him somehow, my lady?”
"No." Grainne sighed. "He's a broody lad, my youngest. He's been prone to odd fits these last few years. Pay him no heed, he'll come around.”
Eamonn nudged me again. "Mayhap you could talk to him, Imri. You know a thing or two about brooding.”
"I'll do that," I said, ignoring the jibe.
After Conor's precipitous departure, the conversation turned to bears. Unlike his sister, Brennan's scouting party had encountered bear signs; tracks that led from a crofter's pasture into the edge of the forest. There, in the soft loam, they simply ended.
"Made my hair stand on end, it did." Brennan rubbed the back of his neck, remembering. "It's them, sure enough.”
"What do the Wise Ones want with us?" Eamonn asked, puzzled.
"You're the one toting cart-loads of wisdom this way," his older brother retorted. "Mayhap they don't like its flavor.”
Eamonn looked at his mother. "Do you think it's true?”
"I don't know." Grainne's face was troubled. "The Dalriada have enjoyed a long truce with the Old Ones." She glanced involuntarily toward the door. "If they are wroth for this cause or some other, I hope they would speak openly to me.”
"You mean you truly do deal with them?" Dorelei asked, startled.
"I do," the Lady of the Dalriada said firmly. "There are two sides to every story, young Cruithne. Even theirs. And if the Old Ones hunger, I do not begrudge them a few cattle. Much that was theirs has been lost to them.”
"So you don't reckon them malevolent?" I asked.