The Harpers - The Night Parade Part 28

"Yes, I know," Myrmeen snapped impatiently.

Stunned, the child looked at her with wide, hurt eyes. Apparently, a harsh word was rarely spoken to this girl.

Myrmeen could hear Reisz's amused and somewhat admonis.h.i.+ng voice in her head: Well, here you are, Myrmeen, at the end of your quest. You have your daughter-so what are you going to do with her? Have Krystin teach her the discipline of the sword?

"Are you happy here in Suldolphor?" Myrmeen asked.

"Oh, yes, milady," Lynelle said with a bubbling enthusiasm that erased any hint of her earlier reserve. "Here I have my studies, my parents, and my suitors-each and every one a true gentleman."

"Your studies," Myrmeen said, grasping for some common ground with this alien child. She is to become a mage, perhaps, and such pursuits certainly would help to grow some callouses on her far too trusting and vulnerable soul.

"Yes," Lynelle said brightly, "our library contains the works of the poets from all the ages-not that I believe that my humble scribbling will ever gain such recognition, but there is an art to be admired, a beauty forgotten by many, that must be explored-particularly the poems of love, for without them our world would be a barren and lifeless place. Don't you agree?"

Myrmeen stared at the child, finding it incomprehensible that this could be her daughter. The longer she watched Lynelle's pretty face, the more subtle clues she discovered that made her believe this was her child.

This girl wouldn't last five minutes alone on the streets of Calimport, Myrmeen thought. She felt as if she were about to crush a beautiful flower underfoot in her blind race to pursue her own fulfillment.

"What do you know of me?" Myrmeen asked.

Lynelle smiled. "That you are the ruler of a s.h.i.+ning city called Arabel. Why you wish to waste your time with my lowly presence, I do not know."

"Why do you think I'm here? Hazard a guess."

"My father often has strangers come and speak with me, sharing their views, imparting theirwisdom, so that my life is not so cloistered-or so he says. Frankly, many of them are bores. I do not sense that you would be such."

"You are most kind," Myrmeen said in a halting, arduous fas.h.i.+on. The enthusiasm that had gripped her on the journey from Berdusk was now fading. Even her memories of the ceremony at the Twilight Hall, where she officially had been brought into the ranks of the Harpers, did not bring comfort.

What did you think you would accomplish here, Myrmeen? Reisz's hearty voice asked in her mind.

I wanted to know that she was safe and happy.

You already knew that.

Myrmeen realized that this moment had played a thousand times in the theater of her mind. In her fantasy, she told Lynelle the truth and the girl embraced her, turning her back on the life she had led for the past fourteen years. Tearfully, they rode off together, beginning a cherished journey of exploration, embarking on a quest that would have no conclusion, as the raising of a child was an adventure that lasted until a parent's final days, no matter what age mother and daughter attained.

"Mistress Lhal?"

Myrmeen was abruptly snapped from her revery by the child's voice.

You are my daughter. Say it.

"Mistress Lhal, you haven't said why you wished to see me. I am-very curious."

The child was becoming worried. There was no other reason for her slip of etiquette, at least by the standards of Sul-dolphor. It was not proper to ask a caller his or her business; a decent host waited until visitors felt that the time had come to announce their purpose. The child would know this and understand the breech in conduct.

Tell her.

Myrmeen hesitated, looking into the deep jade-green eyes of her daughter, and was reminded of Dak. Each time she had found Krystin staring into the emerald locket, she had wanted to say, Your father had eyes like this. They were the first thing that attracted me to the man.

Myrmeen felt it odd that she was thinking of Krystin at a moment like this. Suddenly she understood why, knew what Reisz had been trying to tell her all along: All quests had an ending. If they did not, they would not be quests, simply life, the seemingly endless stretch of days leading to twilight and eternal darkness. By filling her mind and her heart with an endless string of quests, she had been ignoring her life, and it was going on without her. That was why she had felt so hollow and empty that night in Arabel, when she looked out at the storm with longing and desire for something she could not identify. That explained why she had felt that, despite her many achievements, she had accomplished nothing with her life.

Staring into Lynelle's eyes, she knew she had to make a choice, embark on a quest that would shatter this child's peaceful existence, or walk away from it finally, content with the knowledge that her little girl had been raised with love and had been given from infancy more than Myrmeen ever had been equipped to provide for her.

There was no choice.

"My father was a poet," she said softly, "a lyricist. I had hoped that perhaps you had heard of him, and that your vast libraries might hold some of his work, something that would help me remember him, now that the past is slipping away."

Lynelle nodded slowly and asked Myrmeen her father's name. The fighter told her, then added that there was no reason to hurry in this pursuit. Myrmeen would be in Arabel for a very long time. If the girl came across anything, her kindness in forwarding copies of the poems would be appreciated.

"It would be my honor, Mistress Lhal."

"You may go. My time is short, and I have a pressing engagement."

"Of course," the child said as she bowed again, the top of her head showing the roots beneath her resplendent headdress.

"I have one last question," Myrmeen said. "Why do you dye your hair?"

Lynelle blushed. "To look more like my mother. It seems I inherited the hair of my grandmotheron my father's side, who died giving birth to my father. It's vanity, I know."

"Not at all," Myrmeen said. "You're very lovely."

With a wide, embarra.s.sed smile, Lynelle half bowed and left the room with a lightness of step that she had not displayed when she had entered. Two figures, Krystin and Ord, stood in the doorway as Lynelle departed.

As Krystin entered the hall, Ord drew back and shut the door, leaving them alone together.

"Was she everything you had dreamt she would be?" Krystin asked.

Myrmeen swallowed hard. "No," she said, trying to hold back the tears welling up inside her, "but you are."

Krystin was shaken. She had no idea how to respond. She surprised them both by throwing her arms around Myrmeen and holding the woman as tightly as she could. The tears came, and Myrmeen clutched Krystin's back tightly. Krystin responded with strength matching that of the older woman.

There was a dawn somewhere in this bleak, terrible world, and Myrmeen knew she would no longer have to search for it alone.