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violence of our songs, knowing no words were necessary. Eventually, Del tipped her head to the side and rested it against my shoulder. The weight was negligible, but the trust in the gesture immense. It touched the edges of raw emotions and made them quiver in response. Quietly, she said: "I thought it would be Ajani. I thought it would be the deaths." I frowned; so had I. Both had shaped the woman from girl into sword-dancer. "What, then, bascha?" "When I killed my an-kaidin." So. There was more to Del's scars. Deeper than even I'd thought. "That song--" I began, but Del's tone cut me off. "It was easy," she said. "Easy. I thought it would be hard. I thought it should be hard... but it was easy, Tiger." file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...Sword%20Dancer%202%20-%20Sword%2 0Singer.txt (126 of 181) [2/4/2004 10:40:06 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Roberson,%20Jennifer%20-%2 0Sword%20Dancer%202%20-%20Sword%20Singer.txt After a moment, I nodded. "The mechanics of death aren't so difficult when you've been properly trained. You were. So I think--" Del's head rolled slightly against my shoulder. "I don't mean the mechanics of death. I mean the death itself. When I took the an-kaidin's life. When I took him into my sword." She paused. "When Boreal became mine, truly mine, as a jivatma must become... a blood-thirsty, blooded jivatma" I could see little of her face. Mostly tangled hair. But her tone said more than enough. "Bascha--" Yet again, she cut me off. She sat up, throwing off the blanket from us both, then lurched upward to her knees. A quick glance slanted my way told me to be still; I was. And Del drew the sword. In the cave, it rang. It sang, as much as a Canteada. And I realized, in that moment, that the world was made of music. Lifesong, deathsong, dreamsong. The cycle personified. "Sword-singer," I said. Del twitched, holding the sword. Turned her head to look at me over a shoulder. "Sword-singer," I repeated. "The dance requires a song." Delilah began to smile. "It's what you do, isn't it?" I asked. "Sing. To your sword. Your opponent. Your gods. To pay tribute to the world." I nodded slowly. "I remember the old man's words... the old Northerner in Harquhal, who sold you the leathers and furs and wool." Again, I nodded. "He told you to sing well." Page 145 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html Del dragged in a breath. "No dance is danced in silence." "And it's how you key the sword." "Part of it," she agreed. "There is more to it than that, but yes... the true name, the song--all is required." "And I suppose the song must be special, like the name? A personal song? Something no one else can know?" I frowned. "But that doesn't make sense, bascha. If someone hears you sing, the song is no longer secret." Del turned, still holding the sword. Still on her knees. And then she tucked heels beneath buttocks and sat, laying the jivatma across her thighs. One hand on the hilt. One hand on the blade. With infinite gentleness. "You make a new one," she said, "each time. You touch yourself--what you are, what you were, what you can be--and shape it into a song. It's as much you as your hand on the hilt, but drawn from a deeper level. From the you no one else may know." Behind dirt and blood and tangled hair, the flawless face was somber. "You sing yourself into the sword, so the sword becomes part of you." "Then why bother to blood it?" I asked. "Why all this nonsense about blooding it by taking the life of an honored enemy?" I straightened a little, frowning. "What happens if the enemy isn't honored? What happens if you have to kill before you're ready?" Del's tone was steady. "A sword requires blood. First blood is part of the ritual; it is a rite of passage." Gently, she fingered the blade. "A boy becomes a man. A girl becomes a woman. A sword becomes a jivatma. Until then, it isn't whole." "You didn't kill an enemy. You killed a friend instead." She didn't so much as twitch. But then I saw blood on her fingers. Blood running into the runes. "In the name of my need, I killed," she said. "I killed my honored an-kaidin, and took him into my sword." "And are you content with it?" Steadfastly, she stared at the blade. "It was what I had to do." "And are you content with it?" Her hand tightened on the hilt. Tendons stood up in the flesh. "There are times I hate this sword. There are times I hate myself." "Do you regret what you have done?" Del looked straight at me. "No," she said, "I don't. And that is what frightens me." We stood beside the loki ring at dawn: Del, myself, Garrod, and the Borderers. Fog gathered above us, skirting the top of the canyon. Below, mist clung to us, dampening our hair. My nose and ears were cold. file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry...Sword%20Dancer%202%20-%20Sword%2 0Singer.txt (127 of 181) [2/4/2004 10:40:06 PM] file:///D|/Documents%20and%20Settings/harry/Desktop/Roberson,%20Jennifer%20-%2 0Sword%20Dancer%202%20-%20Sword%20Singer.txt Massou tore free of his mother and ran to Del. "I'm sorry!" he cried. "I'm sorry!" I saw her flinch. I saw her recoil. I saw her fight back the response that might have destroyed him, in his frenzy to make things right. "I'm sorry!" the boy cried, clinging to Del's waist. "It wasn't me, I swear... it wasn't... it wasn't." Sobs broke up additional words, rendering them incoherent. It was plain all of them knew. And all of them remembered. Cipriana's face flamed red. She refused to look at me. Adara was less humiliated, but I saw how hard it was even for her to meet my eyes. She clutched her skirts in fists. I cast a glance around the canyon. Once again the other Canteada were hidden, leaving the songmaster to represent them. But I recalled them, the night Page 146 ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html before. Recalled them with candles and wardstones, melting out of the darkness to sing the Borderers free. To imprison the loki in a ring I wouldn't break. Such a delicate thing, the ring. So transient on the surface. Smooth, rounded stones placed in a careful circle in the center of the canyon, not far from the songmaster's cave. In it resided loki. Daeva. Shedu. Rakshasa. The demons of childhood's dreams. [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ] |
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