The Shield of Weeping Ghosts - James P. Davis [130]
Bastun whispered a spell, raising the body of Duras into the air. The berserkers made way, solemnly watching as their former leader was gently laid at the bow, his head forward such that he would be the first to have returned to his homeland when the ship made landfall. Thaena made to follow, and Bastun touched her arm, anticipating this moment, though whatever prepared words he might have had were lost in view of her tear-filled eyes.
"I'm not going back with you. I will stay here… for a time, before moving on," he said, shifting his hood so that he could see the edge of her shoulder.
"I assumed as much," she said, hesitantly, mastering her voice past the grief lodged in her throat. "I do not fully understand all of what happened here, but I know we were-I was
Ii7rrIner oKr»nr aKr»nr en manv rhincre "
Bastun said nothing, only nodded slightly as she turned to look over his shoulder. The Shield was invisible from where they stood, hidden as it should be amid the mist and ruin of the dead city. He recognized that silent stare, having no need to see the familiar face beneath her mask to know the regret she felt.
"Keffrass told me many things I thought I had forgotten over the years," he said, just loud enough for her to hear. "But occasionally, at certain random moments, I recall the greatest of wisdom in the simplest of memories."
She turned, listening as he continued.
"The finer points of magic were difficult for me at first, learning among the vremyonni as a child. I was so full of anger all the time, homesick and lost. Finding the focus needed to manipulate the Weave took more effort and patience than I had." He smiled slightly behind his mask. "With one of my first spells I injured a raven by accident, and the bird's pain drove me to teats. I swore I would never use magic again."
He turned toward Thaena, smile fading, eyes shadowed within his hood and narrowing as he made his point.
"But Keffrass sat me down, calmed me, and said, 'It is not what you have done that matters, it is what you will do that counts.' "
Thaena looked away slowly, staring at the northern horizon for long moments. Hidden by mist and distance lay the Firward Mountains and beyond that Erech Forest. Somewhere in that distance, many believed, lay the dark meeting places of the durthan sisterhood. Bastun feared for his friend, feared that Anilya's voice, in spite of all that had happened, had not yet been quieted for either of them.
"And the raven?" she asked.
"I mended its wing as best I could," he answered. "One day it flew away, and I never saw it again."
The ethran nodded, folding her hands before her as she made to leave.
"Farewell, Bastun," she said. "The Land will miss you, as shall I."
He watched her walk the long dock slowly, the remaining Ice Wolves waiting to assist her boarding, when a dim shadow fell over his shoulder. He turned to find Syrolf behind him, the warriors stealth surprising him. The runescarred face stared him down for several moments, expressionless, though a well-hidden grief could be seen in the redness just around his eyes. He said nothing, but finally raised an eyebrow and managed what may have passed for a brief smile as he clapped Bastun soundly on the shoulder and shook him as one might a fellow berserker after a long battle.
Wordlessly, his hand slid away and he followed his ethran to the felucca and assisted with the unfurling of the sails.
Bastun stood on the shore, snow gathering on his shoulders and around the hem of his robes as he watched the vessel and his countrymen push off into the Ashane. The gray disk of the sun had slipped ever closer into the west when he could no longer make out the felucca's masts through the