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Virginia Kane gri
Mathilda nodded vigorously.?We can do the formalities at home, later, when you?ve got the Sword. But we are the future. Nearly everyone our age back home will want it; they already know about you, and the prophecy. And you?re our King, our Changeling King. Artos.? ?Don?t-? he began, then choked off: Don?t call me that!
It is my name, he thought. Granted it?s my Craft name, but it was my own mother that gave it to me in the nemed, and her inspired and making prophecy the while. That?s when I was called the Lady?s Sword, too.
A prickling ran down his spine, and a feeling as if a wind were tickling his neck… the wind of hovering wings. If it were to be done, he supposed this was the sort of place it would be done; far from home, and on his way into deadly peril. The Powers would have their jokes… and he had promised more than once to walk the path They set, though it led through the hard and stony places. Images flashed through his mind; Raven?s eyes looking into his, this moment. .. and a stricken field of battle where men roared his name as he bore a sword like a wind of flame. ?I…? he began, and then fell silent again.
I have been walking that path perhaps… since my birth? Since the day Mother held me over the altar in the Sacred Wood? Perhaps only since I was old enough to know it, he thought. I am the sacrifice that goes consenting.
Mathilda?s shining eyes twisted at his heart. All she saw at this moment was him returning in glory and victory, and herself at his side, to rule together. She was her mother?s daughter, and her father?s for that matter; kingcraft was in her blood. Not to mention that if he was High King, many of the religious obstacles to a marriage could be set aside-there were ample precedents for that in the long history of her faith.
And yet if that comes to pass, and all you wish for is granted us
… even then, anamchara mine, still the day will come when I know that the King must die so his folk may live. On that day I will leave you, be the parting never so bitter. I have it on the best of authority-from a God, if not your God-that it will be before I grow old. Mine is the blood that renews the land. Well, let us hope that day?s not today, or soon; and let us see that it is not shed in vain. In the meantime we have time, which can be lived in every moment. ?Is this truly what you want?? he asked softly-his eyes were locked on Mathilda?s warm brown gaze, but his voice included the others.
For answer they thrust their blades into the air again; the young sun broke in a blinding glitter from the honed edges. ?Hail, Artos!? And from Mathilda and Odard and Ignatius:?Vivat Artos Rex! Vivat Artos Rex! Vivat!?
The shout woke something in him-something he wasn?t sure of, stronger than a jolt of brandy or the battle fury of riastrad. He wasn?t a man hungry for power, but there was so much that needed to be done and which only a King could do. Defeat for the Cutters, first and foremost, but much else beside.
Power for its own sake I do not desire. But a craftsman?s urge to set things right… that is in me, and there?s no doubt of it. ?I ask you again,? he said, and now he looked from face to face. ?Don?t do this unless you are sure. For there?s no going back. And keep this in mind. If I am to be a King, then by Earth, by Sky, I will be King indeed. For such is our land?s need, that?s beyond disputing. I won?t spare myself in serving that need. I won?t spare you, either, my friends.? ?Hail, Artos! Hail, High King of Montival!? ?So mote it be,? he said quietly, and the words fell into the world with a weight like bells cast from bronze.
Silence fell again, broken only by the sounds of ship and river and wind, and the long sssshs -click! of swords being sheathed. Then Mathilda came forward and went carefully to her knees before him, her hands lying palm-to-palm before her.
Rudi took them between his; they were warm and strong but almost vanished in his long-fingered clasp. She spoke proudly, looking him full in the face. The words were half familiar, but not exactly the formula her folk used, or his, or the Dunedain, or the Bearkillers. They must have talked it over between themselves…
There go my people, he thought, remembering a saying his mother was fond of. I must hurry to catch up with them, for I am their leader.
Mathilda?s voice rang: ?Here in the sight of God and all men I, Mathilda, daughter of Norman, daughter of Sandra, of the House of Arminger and in my person heir of Portland by right of blood, do swear fealty and service as vassal to the High King of Montival and take him as my overlord; in peace to serve with aid and counsel, in war with sword and goods and life, in my waking and my sleeping, in my living and my dying, with heart and hand and all Earthly worship; until death release me, or the world end. So witness God the Father, and Son, and Holy Spirit, and the Blessed Virgin who is Portland?s patroness and mine.?
Rudi swallowed, but his voice was firm as he answered: ?And this oath do I hear and swear in turn: I, Rudi Mackenzie of the Clan Mackenzie?-the slightest hesitation-?also called Artos, son of Michael, son of Juniper; son of Bear, son of Raven, and High King of Montival to be. I will not forget your oath, or fail to reward that which is given: fealty with love, valor with honor, loyalty with good lordship, oath-breaking with vengeance. This I swear by the Earth below me, by the Sky above, by the Water that is my blood, and by the Fire that is my life, and by the Lord and Lady and all the Gods of my people. May they witness it.?
Mathilda offered her sword; he touched hilt and steel and sheathed it again for her. Then she stood, and they put their hands on each others? shoulders and exchanged the kiss of peace on both cheeks. She came to stand at his right, erect, with her eyes bright and glad. Mary stepped forward and knelt in turn and offered her hands, and the others lined up behind her. Rudi took his half sister?s palms between his; her single blue eye seemed to wink at him for an instant-but that might just be that it was the only one she had left to blink with.
When she spoke it was entirely solemn: ?In the sight of Manwe Sulimo and Varda Elentari and all of humankind, I, Mary daughter of Michael, daughter of Signe, of the House of the Bear and the fellowship of the Dunedain Rangers, do swear fealty and service as vassal to the High King of Montival-? ?That delay in Iowa means we can either hole up for the winter, or keep going despite it,? Rudi said two days later.?We?re far north and going farther, and the winter here will have all the wrath the Crone can muster and the Keeper-of-Laws send.? ?Well, I?ve lived through a fair number of those winters. Snow?s easier to travel through than mud,? Ingolf said.?Or to travel over. It could snow hard as early as Halloween… Samhain… or even a bit earlier.?
The Hammerdown was tied up for the evening, with a hawser stretched to the stump of something made of concrete and steel on the eastern shore, eroded and rusted but still strong. The travelers had set up tents ashore there-a little elbow room was very welcome-and Rudi could see, through the slanting windows of the stern cabin, the glow of their fires on the trunks and branches of the great trees that overhung the campsite. It was chilly enough that his jacket and plaid were welcome even in the rather stuffy cabin.