In secret she had learned swordplay from Jerrany. Now she bent her mind to gathering other abilities: knowledge of poison, the making of arrows, the setting of guard runes. Jerrany had come and gone, bidding her a gentle farewell. Her father had begun to cast about for another lord for her when Jerrany returned, jubilant.
“I’ve found our home. It’s all a ruin now, but most of the walls are still there. We can build it up again, Mayrin.”
“What have I to do with it?” she had asked bitterly.
She had met astonished eyes. “Why, it’s our home,” he had said simply. “Don’t you want to be with me?”
Her heart had leaped up. Without caring for her dignity, she had flung herself at him, laughing and weeping at the same time. “Of course I do. You know I do. I thought you didn’t want me.”
He had taken her by the shoulders, setting her back from him so that their eyes met. “I suppose I always thought you knew. I love you, Mayrin. Why else would I have been seeking land and a home for us? Now I have a place and we can be wed.”
It hadn’t been that easy. Her father had first forbidden her to see the boy, as he had termed Jerrany. Finding that difficult to enforce, he had spoken to Jerrany himself, only to find a fighter who met him as an equal.
“I love Mayrin; Mayrin loves me. You may bring her to the altar with another. You cannot force her to speak vows, nor would such an attempt be approved in this place.”
Her father had been furious, so much so that he had tried to goad her brother into an attack on Jerrany. But Romar had refused. Jerrany had been his friend since they came to the Valley of the Green Silences. He was almost the same age and together they had trained, fought, become as brothers in blood. Mayrin had thought at this point her father would suffer a seizure.
“Defied by one whelp!” he had roared. “Then by the other. By all the gods, you may go your own way, then. But expect nothing from me. Neither bride gifts, nor aid, nor anything I have. Go your way alone, both of you!”
They had done so, with Mayrin set in the care of Duhaun herself as her brother and beloved gathered what they must have. Others had chosen to join them, the lure of new lands being great. Some from Estcarp came still to Escore, and three families of those who joined them. Here and there single men added themselves to the group, bringing what they had in the way of goods and gear. More had followed later.
Romar—she remembered his gaiety. His laughter. He had been a rover, a wanderer across this strange and ancient land. It had called to his heart so that for months at a time he had vanished into its vastnesses. It was as if he sought without knowing, as if he hungered without being satisfied. He looked at none of the girls who would have been glad for his notice. Her father had raged to no avail. Those who led here valued the boy’s skills, his reports of a land where evil was slowly being driven back.
Mayrin had loved her brother. It had delighted her heart when he chose to accompany them. But now he was lost, gone into that unknown from whence she feared he would never return.
Now from out of that same unknown a woman came. Nothing was impossible; perhaps Eleeri had seen or heard something. Maybe she could seek out some clue to Romar? Mayrin resolved to be careful, to move slowly, as her lord had said. But she would know all that her visitor knew. She would!
In sleep her mouth still held tight to that resolution. Romar was her brother beloved; no unknown land should reive him from her. She would befriend this traveler, leech from her any secrets she knew, use her if she must, anything to bring her brother home again.
The morning dawned bright and fair. Eleeri would have ridden homeward then, her trading complete, but that Mayrin pled with her to stay awhile. For the sorrow in the lady’s eyes, Eleeri stayed. They talked and laughed together as lonely women will, finding in each other a friend unlooked for.
A day passed swiftly, and another. Glad to see his beloved so happy, Jerrany also pressed the visitor to remain. In all, Eleeri was at the keep for seven days before her need to return grew great. That last day Mayrin took her aside.
Her head hung in shame as she talked, but the younger girl smiled. “Don’t look like that, Mayrin. I guessed there was a favor you needed. Whatever it is, I can promise to try if it not be against honor.”
“It is not, I promise it is not.” Mayrin ran lightly from the room to return with a small package. It was wrapped in a piece of fine cloth which she unwrapped gently.
“I’ve talked about Romar, my brother. He went from us into the lands to the east many months ago now. Nor has he returned. I fear for him.” She stared sadly at the palm-sized painting she now displayed to Eleeri. “This was done before we left the Valley of the Green Silences. I have one of myself and my lord also. But this is dearer by far. It may be all that is left to me of Romar.”
“The favor?”
“Wherever you go, wherever your home is, let you seek, let your eyes be ever busy searching, looking for one like this. I would give all I have to bring him safely home.” Her eyes were desperate.
The woman she addressed nodded slowly. “I do indeed wander, as did your brother, sometimes to the east. I will watch for him, free him if he be trapped, bury him if I find his body, bring news to you if I have any. But only as I can. I, too, have those who rely on me. I cannot risk them for one unknown who may already be dead. But I sorrow for your grief. I will do what I can.”
Mayrin flung her arms about the slender body. “That is all I ask. Come back. With news or without it, a welcome holds for you ever.”
Eleeri turned away, but Mayrin’s fingers seized her arm. Eleeri turned, brows raised questioningly. A small object was pressed into her hand.
“Here; you did not look truly. Look now, study the face. He may have changed a little if he has been treated ill by those of the Dark. Please, remember him, find him for me.”
Eleeri looked down. At her previous glance the boy had seemed nothing special. Now she looked closer as her new friend begged. She guessed that Romar would have been sixteen when the limning was done. The same age as— She stared suddenly. No wonder she had no more than glanced. Why should she look closer? The image of this boy stood staring imploringly at her.
“You know he’s alive somewhere, don’t you?” Eleeri said. “You’re twins.”
“That is so,” Mayrin said softly. “I feel him to be in great danger, but death has not touched him as yet. You are also right that we are twins. It is rare, very rare for those of the Old Race. Few there have been with any talent in our line, but Romar has an affinity with beasts. Horses in particular.” Her fingers twined and twisted frantically, although her voice remained calm and quiet. “But we have the gift of twins. I would know if he were dead; therefore he is not. Find him for me, Eleeri.”
For a long moment, Eleeri studied the portrait. Mayrin had changed, but not greatly since this was done. The boy here was young, untried. But there was strength in that face, pride without vice, power without the need to use it unjustly. The eyes were lonely, inward-looking. To an outsider he would have appeared as no great one to risk aught for. His face was thin, with fine bones and a determined chin. Eyes of a shade more green than gray, if the painter had not lied—but no. Mayrin’s eyes, too, were that hue. The mouth was clean-cut, modeled with almost a delicacy, but there was no weakness in the set of those lips. It was the mouth of one who acted as well as dreamed.
It drew her in a way she had never felt before. She was no child to be attracted by any pretty face. She would have shrugged off the feeling, but even that would have been to acknowledge it. Mayrin had been kind; her lord had traded fairly. They asked only that she be alert for traces of this one. It was not asked that she storm any strongholds of the Dark. She glanced down again. Hmm, a trick of the light . . . for a moment the painted eyes had seemed to implore, to focus on her. Her face came up, eyes measured Mayrin. Witchery? No, she did not think so. Just a trick of the light.