“I can always find my way home,” the Mage retorted. She struggled along at his side with her Magelight, followed by the dozen or so lean and shaggy wolves that had been huddled round the child, keeping her alive with the warmth of their bodies. Their eyes never left Aurian’s still form.
When Forral reached the tower the wolves followed him determinedly inside. Keeping out of the way, they watched as he and Eilin stripped off Aurian’s wet clothes and laid her on. a makeshift bed near the stove, wrapped in every quilt and blanket they could find. As Eilin set water to boil, Forral sat with the child, stroking the damp curls away from her bluish face with a trembling hand. “Can’t you do something?” he snapped.
“I am!” Eilin banged the pan dosPn on the top of the stove, and water hissed as it slopped over onto the hot surface. Covering her face with her hands, the Mage burst into tears.
“It’s a bit late for that now,” Forral said brutally. “As soon as she’s well—if she gets well—I’m taking her out of here, and you can do what you like about it.”
“No!” Eilin lowered her hands to stare at him. “You cannot. I forbid it. Aurian is my child!”
“And what does that signify, when you do nothing but neglect her?” Forral snapped. “The child needs love, Eilin!”
“I do love her, you dolt!” cried the Mage.
The swordsman shook his head. “I don’t believe you, Eilin —if you do, you never show it.”
Eilin was stung by his words. “And what would you know about it?” she retorted, and said no more. She thought of the conclusion of her meeting with the awesome Lord of the Phaerie, who had agreed to find Forral and lead her to her child—for a price. “Remember,” he had said, “that this matter is not resolved between us. We will meet again, Lady—and when we do, I will claim my debt.” What he might ask of her, Eilin shuddered to think—but it would be worth it. Though she gave little credence to the words of the Forest Lord—that Aurian would one day hold the fate of the Phaerie in her hands—she had been immeasurably grateful for his aid. The Phaerie had saved her, in her folly, from causing Aurian’s death—and for that, no price would be too high. Believe what you like, Forral, she thought, but there are many ways to love—and more ways than one of showing it!
Forral looked on as with shaking hands the Mage concocted a stimulating tea from the dried herbs, berries, and blossoms that hung in bunches in the kitchen. Once they had trickled some of the brew down Aurian’s throat, the child breathed more easily and her color began to return. Forral let out a deep breath, only now aware of his own soaked and frozen state. “We could use some of that stuff,” he suggested.
Eilin filled two mugs and sat down beside him, handing him his steaming brew. At first she simply sat, still and abstracted, watching her sleeping child. Then at last she spoke, “Forral, I owe you an apology. I’ve been a blind fool.”
“A complete ass,” the swordsman agreed gently. He took her hand. “It’s been terribie for you, hasn’t it?”
“You have no idea.” She shook her head. “I warned him, you know—I begged him not to do it. I’m an Earth-Mage—I knew it was folly. But Geraint was always so stubborn—”
“Not an uncommon trait among the Mageborn, is it?” Forral pointed out. She flinched.
“How dare you judge me, Mortal!” she flared, and he knew his words had struck home. “Afterward,” Eilin went on, “people sought revenge. There were Mortals here, you know, before . . .” She shuddered. “Aurian and I were in Nexis—she was only a baby—and we barely escaped with our lives. I wanted to undo the damage Geraint had done, to erase his memory. But as Aurian grew, she came to resemble him—do you know, the poor child will even inherit that hawk profile of his when she’s older? And her eyes change from green to gray when she’s angry, just as his did. I can’t look at her without seeing his face . . . Oh Gods, Forral, I hate him!”
“You hate him because he left you,” Forral said softly. “You still love him, Eilin.”
“If he had loved me, would he have left me alone like this?” Her voice broke. “I miss him so much!”
“Then let yourself mourn him. It’s high time.”
Forral held her while she wept. “You know,” he said at last, “Geraint hasn’t gone completely. He left part of himself right here.” He indicated the sleeping child.
“I’m aware of that!” Eilin snapped.
“And that’s the problem, isn’t it? Don’t take it out on her, Eilin. She’s not responsible.”
EiHn sighed. “When you came, you made me feel so guilty —that was why I wanted rid of you. You, a mere Mortal, forcing me to realize how much I had failed my own child! But how can I help it, when ...” She took a deep breath. “Forral, will you stay and look after her? Aurian deserves more than I can give her. And she loves you.”
“And I love her. Of course I’ll stay. That was the idea from the start, remember? It just took a long time to get it into that stubborn Mage head of yours. But that doesn’t absolve you of responsibility, Eilin, You’re still her mother, and I’ll expect you to make an effort.”
Eilin nodded. “I’ll try, I proraise^Thank you, Forral.” She leapt to her feet. “Perhaps I should make some broth, for when she wakes. She had no supper . . .”
Forral gave her an encouraging smile. “See how easy it is to care, Eilin, when you try?”
Aurian thought she must still be dreaming. There had been a terrible nightmare about being lost in the snow, and now here were her wolves and Forral—sitting in the kitchen with her mother. And Eilin never smiled at her like that.
“How are you feeling, love?” There were tears in the swordsman’s eyes.
“Forral?” Her voice came out as a feeble croak.
“It’s all right—rjn here. Drink some of this,” Putting his arm around her, he propped her while he held a cup of warm broth to her lips. “Better?” he asked.
“Everything hurts. And I’m cold.”
“I’m not surprised. Running off into the snow like that. You daft child!” His voice was gruff.
“I’m sorry.” Aurian glanced nervously at her mother. “But it was an emergency.”
“Now where have I heard that excuse before?” Forral grinned. “Well, I have news for you, young lady. I’m going to be looking after you from now on, so you’d better start behaving yourself.”
Aurian’s eyes widened slowly. She looked at her mother. “Is it true?” she whispered.
Eilin nodded. “I asked Forral to stay. He can take better care of you than I have ever done.”
“Oh, thank you!” Beaming, Aurian reached up to hug her mother. Eilin froze, looking startled, then returned her daughter’s embrace.
Forral smiled.
2
The Swordswoman
Forral had never guessed that taking care of a child would prove to be such hard work. He moved into the storeroom that led off the kitchen, and two or three happy days passed while Aurian helped him clear a living space amidst tools, seeds, sacks of grain and garden produce, round white cheeses, wrinkled apples, pots of honey, and bottled fruit that Eilin had laid aside for winter. The resulting accommodation was cramped and spartan, but it was enough for a soldier’s needs, and Forral had no objection to the mixed aromas of good food in his bedroom. The swordsman also took the time to board up Aurian’s broken window until it could be repaired properly. When she complained that it made the room too dark he looked at her sternly. “It’s your own fault. You broke it, remember?” Aurian’s jaw dropped.
After that the battles of will occurred almost daily. Aurian had been allowed to run wild all her life, and though it wrenched Forral’s heart to be firm with her, he knew it had to be done, for her own good. They fell out first over the matter of baths. Aurian refused point-blank, protesting that she bathed in the lake in summer. Wasn’t that enough? Forral handed her the soap and towel. “Very well,” he said. “Go and bathe in the lake, then.”