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follow his sire s example. Lord Sillek did succeed his father, did he not?
 He did, armsman. That was why I was here.
 Would you care to explain? asked Nylan, knowing the answer, but wanting
the others, besides Ryba, to hear it from the local noble himself.
Ryba sat in the single chair at the end of the table-a rude chair, crude
like all the other crafts, but Saryn had insisted that the marshal should sit
at the end, and had made the chair herself. Ryba half turned in the chair to
hear Relyn s words.
 Lord Sillek offered a reward of the Ironwoods and a title for whoever
cleansed the Roof of the World.
 Cleansed? asked Ryba coldly.  Are we vermin?
While her accent in Old Anglorat left something to be desired, Relyn
understood and swallowed.  Your pardon& but women like you are not seen
elsewhere in Candar, nor across either the Eastern or the Western Ocean.
 There are women like us in Candar, and they will find their way to
Westwind, Ryba said.  In time, all the lands west of the Westhorns will be
ruled by women who follow the Legend-the guards of Westwind& I ve mentioned
the name before.
 The Legend? asked Relyn.
Nylan glanced at Ayrlyn, who looked down.
 Ayrlyn? Now would be a good time to introduce your latest song.
 As you wish, Marshal. Ayrlyn walked to the far end of the hall where she
removed the lutar case from the open shelves under the central stone stairs.
She left the case and carried the instrument toward the hearth.
 What is this Legend? asked Narliat.
 It is the story of the angels, Ryba said smoothly,  and the  fate of
those who put their trust in the power of men alone.
Nylan winced at the certainty in her voice, the absolute surety of vision.
Like her vision of a daughter, although that was certainly no vision. There
were enough signs to Nylan, especially to his senses, but while he could not
tell the sex of the child, Ryba had no doubts.
 All Candar will come to understand the vision and the power of the
Legend, Ryba added.  Though there will be those who oppose it, even they will
not deny its truth and its power.
Ayrlyn stood before the hearth, lutar in hand, adjusting the tuning pegs,
and striking several strong chords before beginning.
From the skies of long-tost Heaven
to the heights of Westwind keep,
We will hold our blades in order,
and never let our honor sleep.
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From the skies of light-iced towers
to the demons  place on earth,
We will hold fast lightnings  powers,
and never count gold s worth.
As the guards of Westwind keep
our souls hold winter s sweep;
We will hold our blades in order,
and never let our honor sleep&
As Ayrlyn set down the small lutar, Ryba smiled. The hall was hushed for an
instant. Then Cessya began to clap.
 Don t clap. It s yours, and you need to sing it with her. Again, Ayrlyn.
The redheaded healer and singer bowed and strummed the lutar. Her silver
voice repeated the words.
By the last chorus of  and never let our honor sleep all the marines who
had become, by virtue of the song and Ryba s pronouncement, the guards of
Westwind Keep had joined in.
Nylan tried not to frown. Had Ryba used the term  guard before? Was she
mixing what she thought she had said, her visions, and what she wished she had
said?
Relyn looked at Narliat, and both men frowned.
 You frown, young Relyn. Do you doubt our ability at arms? Or mine? asked
the marshal.
 No, sher.
  Ser will do, thank you. The term applies to honored warriors. Ryba
turned away from the two at the corner of the hearth.  A good rendition,
Ayrlyn. Very good.
Ayrlyn bowed and walked toward the shadows that shrouded the stairs.
Relyn glanced toward Ryba s pale and impassive face and whispered to
Narliat.  She is truly more dangerous than Lord Sillek.
Far more dangerous, Nylan felt, for Ryba had a vision, and that vision just
might change the entire planet-or more. Sillek and the others had no idea what
they faced.
The engineer s sense of reason wanted to deny his feelings. Logic said that
a mere twenty-plus marines and an engineer could not change history, but he
could feel a cold wind every time he thought of the words Ayrlyn had composed,
as though they echoed down the years ahead.
XXXV
IN THE NORTH tower yard, Nylan glanced from the armaglass panels up at the
sky, where gray clouds twisted in and out and back upon each other as they
churned their way southward, bringing moisture from the northern ocean. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]