Eilir glanced sharply aside at Astrid. Her anamchara was standing before the gateway, motionless, sighing. The expression on her face:
Oh, wait a minute, Eilir thought. The first time you ever show any interest, and it's one who looks like young Lugh come again? It's not fair!
Astrid murmured aloud, but from the way her lips moved was probably not really aware of it:": for he was young, and he was king, the lord of a fell people: "
Alleyne Loring's eyebrows went up as he took in Astrid Larsson's tall elegant figure. Then he saw the details of white tree and stars on the black leather of her tunic, and his smile widened into a boyish grin.
"Elen sila lumen' omentielvo," he said.
You couldn't be Astrid Larsson's anamchara for near ten years and not know that tongue; besides, those were Eilir's favorite books, too, even if she kept a stricter grasp on the boundaries between fantasy and the common everyday world.
He'd said: A star shines on the hour of our meeting. But even though she could lip-read Elvish, there was no Sign equivalent. Eilir felt her own lips compress in annoyance.
He went on, upending the empty horn: " Si man i yulma nin equantuva?"
Astrid laughed in delight and clapped her hands together: "That's a special-occasion cup, but there's plenty to eat and drink waiting in the Hall, and I'll be glad to get you a refill."
This is not fair! Eilir thought. This is my home and you're the one who gets to talk to him about it. This is just not right!
The young man noticed her and signed-slowly and clumsily: I'm sorry; I don't know much of this language.
Eilrir made herself smile and returned a greeting. Not fair or right at all!
"You've come a long way," Astrid went on, as they all turned and fell into step into the interior of Dun Juniper. "You and your father and your friend."
Behind them the outer gates closed for sunset with a slow soft boom that shuddered through the feet, and then the inner leaves. Lantern light blossomed within-from windows, from larger glass-and-metal lamps on the towers and from the ridgepoles of the log homes that lined the inside of the walls, and bright from the windows of the Hall. That turned the carving and color of beam and pillar into a fantasy of shadow and brightness, crimson and gold and green; the timbers of the eaves continued up above the peak of the roof, and the spirals on them curled deasil and widdershins, gilded by the last rays of the sun. The carved totem-heads at the ends of the rafters loomed over their heads-wolf and bear, coyote and raven and more.
Alleyne checked a pace as the great building loomed up; his huge companion shaped a whistle.
"Well, there's a sight, and no mistake," the bigger man said.
"Like the hall of Meduseld," Alleyne said quietly.
"Just so!" Astrid replied.
Hey! My house! My mom's Hall! Eilir thought. That's where I live!
"We haven't seen anyone from overseas since the Change, much less from England! You'll have a lot to tell us!" Astrid continued enthusiastically.
"Si vanwa na, Romello vanwa: England," he said, laughing again; his teeth were very white. Eilir's nostrils flared; he had a very pleasant masculine scent, clean and hard beneath the usual odors of horse and leather and woodsmoke.
Another figure moved. Eilir started; she'd noticed the man-it was hard not to, since he was six-seven and broad in proportion-but only out of the corner of her eye. He waited until she was looking straight at him before speaking, which was a courtesy she appreciated.
"Nattering on in Elvish again, is he?" he said; it was probably the sort of voice that felt like a bass rumble under your fingertips, if you touched his chest or throat while he spoke. "Bad habit of his: John Hordle's my name."
You do Sign? Eilir asked; the lipreading was a bit more of a strain than usual, given his accent.
Little bit. Want more.
Juniper was looking over her shoulder. Eilir started forward with the others, still feeling a slow burn as she stared at Astrid's back.
I'm your anamchara, not the designated sidekick!
They led their mounts over to the stables and spent a minute tending to them; she saw without surprise that Alleyne Loring knew his way around horses with an easy competence. In fact he moved so gracefully that John Hordle leapt backward, his mouth open in what must have been a shout of alarm. Eilir grounded her pitchfork with a wince and privately thanked the Lady that he'd been wearing a mail shirt; otherwise something rather nasty might have happened.
Astrid looked at her in astonishment: Where were you, anamchara? she signed.
Deep thought, Eilir replied, flushing and racking the long two-tined hayfork. Sorry. Apologize for me, would you?
Alleyne smiled, and after a moment so did John Hordle.
"That's my mom," Rudi Mackenzie said proudly; the Chief of the Mackenzies winked at him as she rode by and he waved enthusiastically.
"Well, yeah," Mathilda Arminger said, deliberately unimpressed. "I saw her when she attacked my train, you know."
There was the trace of a sulk still in her voice; Rudi ignored it; it was only natural to miss her family, when she couldn't go home. Then she went on: "Who's the guy in the funny armor?"
"That's the real English baron," Rudi said proudly. "He and my mom rescued Lord Bear."'
"Oh, him," Mathilda said, sticking her hands in her pockets; she was wearing a Clan-style kilt, though in a plain gray guest-weave rather than the Mackenzie tartan, and a baggy sweater.
"Don't be a grouch," Rudi said. "Want to go and see if we can get something in the kitchens? I'm starving and it's a while until dinner."
"OK," Mathilda said. "But why can't you just tell them to give you something?"
"Did your mom and dad let you eat anything you want between meals?" Rudi said; he knew that was wrong, but it sounded like fun too.
"Welclass="underline" no. I mean, my mom didn't."
Her face crumpled for an instant, then firmed; she shrugged off the sympathetic arm he put around her shoulder.
"She didn't like me hanging around low places and peons, you know."
"Lady bless, hanging around the kitchens is fun," Rudi said. "It's a lot better than arithmetic lessons, that's for sure."
"Yeah, but they make you do stuff. Chores; And that's not what lords and ladies are supposed to do."
"My mom's a Lady," Rudi pointed out reasonably. "And she does chores. That's fun sometimes too. Anyway, it's got to be done."
Mathilda considered this and nodded, looking a little uneasy. "I suppose so. I don't think my mom would like it, though."
"Look-" He glanced around. "Want to know a secret?"
"Yeah!"
"My mom got a letter from your dad." He smiled as her face glowed. "He's going to send someone to talk to my mom about you at the Sutterdown Horse Fair, after Lugh-nassadh. And you can write a letter back. So why don't we go hit the kitchens, like I said?"
After a moment, Mathilda replied, "Maybe they'll have some of those sweet buns with the nuts?"
"And there's some new kittens there," he said.
"I miss my cat Saladin," she said. "But kittens are always fun."
They trotted off through the dispersing crowd. As they went, Mathilda caught sight of the stars-and-tree sigil on Astrid Larsson's tunic.
"Oh, that stuff again," she said. "Doesn't she ever get tired of it? She's a grown-up."
"Don't you like the story?" Rudi asked. "I liked The Hobbit best, but Astrid says that's 'cause I'm still a kid."
"I think I'll still think it's way too long and full of boring stuff when I'm old, even if Dad got the idea for the flag out of it," Mathilda said. She giggled and dropped her voice to a whisper: "Have you heard about the other Ring story?"
"Other story?"
"The one where the hero's called Dildo Bugger?"
Rudi's face twisted in an expression halfway between fascination and disgust. "You've got to be kidding, Matti."