"Nothing that I can think of. Unless you were to use this truespeech on me, and I heard you."
"Most of your people—forgive me—most humans are deaf to the Language of Truth, and in all the history of the Gedri only Lanen has not been mute. Most likely you would hear nothing."
"I'm willing to chance it," he said, challenging me.
I sighed and rose. I fetched my circlet from my pack in the corner, where I had stowed it when I arrived. I placed it on my brow, breathing deep, remembering that when last I had worn it I stood before my own people. ''May I bespeak you, Jameth of Arinoc? It is Varien who speaks."
I waited. "Well?" he said. "Go ahead and try."
I tried again, using the broadest kind of truespeech. ''Master Jameth, would that I might convince you of that which is simple truth. I am he who once was Lord of the Kantri. I am become human by the will of the Winds and the Lady. And I love your heart's-daughter Lanen with a love that will be remembered in song on the Isle of Dragons when we all are dust and gone.''
Jamie's expression did not change. I removed the circlet. "Forgive me, Jameth. I spoke, but you did not hear."
"Ah, well. You tried," he said, much of the rough concern gone from his voice.
"Yet despite your deafness you are well content. I do not understand."
He half-smiled at me. "You might just be telling the truth. I've seen conjurers at fairs who claim Farsight. They moan and groan and frown, there's a whole act goes with it. You didn't even twitch. Did Lanen hear you?"
"Yes, I did," said a quiet voice from the door. It was Lanen as I had never seen her, with her hair all loose about her, and dressed in a soft green gown that flowed when she walked. I was enchanted.
"I thank you for those words, dear heart. It's a shame Jamie couldn't hear them."
"You know, my girl, in the end it doesn't matter," said Jamie, smiling a little sadly at me.
"Whether he's just a man or a Dragon become man is all one in the end. I have never seen you so, Lanen. You are positively glowing. Do you love him so very much, then?"
''Beyond reason, beyond death, beyond all understanding I love him, Jamie."
Jamie stood and held out his hand. ''Then welcome, Varien, whoever you may be. Come, stand up and face the fire, let me see your eyes."
"Why?" I asked, as I moved to oblige him.
"They are called the window of the soul, and I would look in yours if I may."
I obeyed, kneeling that he might see better (for he was much smaller than I).
I think perhaps my eyes convinced him.
Lanen has told me since that, despite all other changes, my eyes (though human) have yet the semblance of the eyes of Akhor, who had lived at that time a thousand and twelve winters. I think perhaps Jamie saw in my eyes the years weighing upon years, the memory of time beyond his imagining. Or perhaps he simply saw my love for Lanen, and was content.
"Be welcome, Varien," he said, and took my hands to help me up.
"I rejoice in thy welcome, for thou art dearest kin to my beloved," I said formally. The words came as a surprise to me. They were the words used by the Kantri on such occasions, and though I had taught them to a few younglings (notably Kédra) I had never thought to find them on my own tongue. "I fear I come ill prepared, for I do not know thy customs well, though Lanen hath tried to instruct me. Our wedding is set for three days hence, but what have I to give thee, in thanksgiving for so rare a gift as thy heart's-daughter?"
"What is the custom among the Kantri?" asked Lanen, when Jamie had no answer.
"The usual gift is a song," I replied.
"Then that will content me," said Jamie, his face unreadable. "Let you sing a new song at the wedding, before you take your vows, as Lanen's bride-gift." He took me by the shoulders.
"But Varien, know that I am giving into your keeping the only thing of value I have ever had claim on. If you do not treat her well, I will come for you."
Lanen laughed, making light of his words, but I knew well that he meant them with all his heart. I was grateful for his honesty. I was beginning to learn that it was a rare gift among any people.
I spent the next three days and nights working on my gift. I was beginning to discover that, if I needed to, I could do with as little sleep as the Kantri needed. It was just as well, for I had not had time to learn how to use this new voice of mine. It resonated in a completely different way, and it took some time to find the best placement, but I had been singing for a very long time and I found it soon enough. The melody was obvious, a variation on the theme of our Flight, but it was very difficult to make meaningful verse in another language. It was not perfect, but as an idea of the finished whole it was a good beginning.
I hardly saw Varien those next three days, which I suspect was just as well. Jamie and I went over the year's accounts and finished the business of the stead for the year, which had to be done, but every spare moment I had I spent in making a gown. Had I time enough to have sent to Illara, I'd have been wed in samite, but as it was I had only homespun cotton cloth on hand.
Still, with the help of a better seamstress than I and three nights of pricked fingers as I embroidered, I was not so ill a sight on Midwinter's Day.
There were few to come to the ceremony at noon—Walther and Alisonde, brave souls (I think Walther wanted to apologise, but I wouldn't let him), a few women from the village, all of the stable lads and Jamie in the place of honour standing for my family. I thought briefly of Marik, babbling still, with only part of a mind left him, and of Maran, away in Beskin— but they were no more than phantoms, while Jamie stood real and solid beside me.
The priestess of the Lady stood waiting at the end of the hall, which Alisonde and some of the village women had made gay with such flowers as bloom in winter. Around my brow holly and ivy were entwined, vivid green and red against the cold white of winter, and green and gold the embroidery on my white dress. Jamie took me by the hand and walked with me down the hall, to where Varien stood waiting.
He took my breath away. He was all in green, a simple belted tunic over stout leggings, but upon his brow sat the circlet that held his soulgem. His silver hair blazed against the green he wore, and his soulgem seemed to shine with its own inner light, clear and steady.
When we were come nigh, he opened his mouth and sang.
It was the Tale of Lanen and Akor.
I suspect you have heard it often, though it is certain you have never heard it sung so. For he wore his soulgem on his brow, and I heard all his song echoed in truespeech, where he still had the voice of a Lord of the Kantri.
Jamie cried. That strong, toughened soul, farmer, horse-master, assassin, wept openly at the beauty of Varien's bride-gift to me. I was beyond tears, in a place where joy has wings.
In the name of the Winds and the Lady we were wed, lighting candles at midwinter to drive back the darkness. And in the silence of our minds, we pledged to each other in the Language of Truth, in which lies are impossible.
''Varien Kantriakor rash-Gedri, Kadreshi naLanen, I take you as my husband and my mate for as long as life endures. In the name of the Winds and the Lady, beloved, I am thine."
''Lanen Kaelar, Kadreshi naVarien, I take you as my wife and mate for as long as life endures. In the name of the Winds and the Lady, dearling, I am thine before all the world.''
That is the true tale of Lanen and Akor.
There is more to tell, but there always is.
True stories never end.
GLOSSARY
Chélan Name of a plant and the brew made from it. It is drunk as a stimulant. We would say it tasted rather like mate with a hint of cinnamon.