By the end of the first day, I was heartily sick of hearing the damn song. "Heart's Defiance" not only could be heard from the Granary but from various spots in the city, as if the walls themselves were singing in sympathy with the prisoners. Phellas, crafty old man that he was, let Beran and his fellows sing themselves hoarse, then sent them water to ease their throats. Shortly after, the singing came to a gradual end. The water had been drugged.

Phellas had not risen to the office of High Priest of Pyrfeth Temple on the basis of his piety alone; the old man had a ruthless streak. I hadn't expected Beran and my nephew to react as they had, but apparently he had. I sat in his chambers that night, watching him send out guards to hunt down people who had not been caught up with the others that morning, my mind numb. I had placed bards under arrest; surely the Bardic Circle would not sit still for the day's events. What had I done?

Phellas waved off another guard, then turned to look at me, and gave a low chuckle. "Joffry, you look like someone has kicked you in the gut. Stop worrying! A few days in the Granary and they'll give over."

"It's not them I'm worried about, Phellas, it's the Circle. Once they get word of this, they'll go straight to the Baron, and we'll have them all down upon our heads."

"Then most likely was wise of me to post extra guards at the east gate and along the road to the capital, don't you agree?" He took a sip of wine and smiled. "By the time word gets out, we'll have our way. Beran's the key. Break his spirit, and the rest will follow meekly like lambs. And don't forget, Joffry, I've broken Beran's spirit before. I expect it can be done again."

"How could I forget?" I murmured. "But what if someone does get to the capital? How will you explain all this?"

The smile he gave chilled me." Oh. well, I had no choice once you had acted so rashly, imprisoning the bards and their friends. I had to act to preserve order in Pyrfeth. But it's four days to the capital, Joffry, and four days back. By that time it will be over. The Circle will have no choice but to accept Beran's request he be allowed to leave Pyrfeth for some other place."

"Beran's not the boy he was when you punished him over the Tower. He's a stubborn man, now."

"A stubborn man with a wife. Once we have Herys in our hands, he'll be willing to do what we tell him. I've sent guards out to the Bard's Cottage for her and Gythin's wife. Even if they've hidden elsewhere, it's only a matter of time before we have them both." He smiled confidently and sent an acolyte off to fetch our dinner.

But it was a day before Herys was captured, and another before we began to realize that Gythin's new wife had slipped out from Pyrfeth.

********

Phellas stared coldly at the guard sprawled on the floor before us. He'd been shoved into the room by a disgusted looking veteran who now prodded the fellow with the tip of his boot." Go on, tell the High Priest how you lost your horse."

And so we learned two days after the fact how Aella had used a chamber pot to steal a mount and leave Pyrfeth. Phellas was furious, his face reddening and a vein at his temple twitching. "Get out of my sight!" He dismissed both men with a wave of his hand and turned to me and stared out a window. "Two days. It's still plenty of time. She's only halfway to the capital by now, and another six before the Baron sends his response. Seven, if we're lucky and she does not get an immediate audience."

"Then why didn't your extra guards on the road stop her already?"

He turned. "She went across country, perhaps? Even better; that will slow her down."

"Your holiness, I cannot believe you don't see what happened here. That man was on the western end of town. She left by the west gate, and she's riding west, not east to the Baron."

"West? There's nothing west of here." And then the realization dawned, and Phellas' face turned ashen. "Nothing, except Westford, two day's ride, and that bookish fool, Westmarch."

"A fool who happens to be the Baron's son." I found I actually relished reminding Phellas of that fact. "I suggest we move quickly and release the bards and their friends and hope for the best. I'll take the blame as you said."

"How noble of you, Joffry!" He sneered briefly. " I can't have it. The bards will go back to their songs, the magic will grow stronger and the elves will come back. And where will that leave the Temple, not just here, but all over the Barony? Pushed aside, that's where. No, I will act quickly, just not in the way you want. Westmark is a friend of the Circle and the rumors are he studies the elven histories. I will deal with the prisoners myself before I let an outsider allow elven taint back in Pyrfeth."

"What will you do?"

"Release all the prisoners except the bard and his son, then call another Assembly in the morning. I'll exile them from Pyrfeth, and there'll be a tragic attack by robbers on the road."

I shook my head. "They are Bards, Phellas. They are under the protection of the Goddess."

"Joffry, I am the Voice of the Goddess in Pyrfeth. What I do, I do in Her name and I would think you of all people would gladly make an end to Beran! Now go and do as I've commanded!" He stalked out the room before I could protest further, leaving me to wonder if he somehow knew about my near attempt on Beran's life.

Lately, I'd come to think it was the hand of the Goddess that had kept me from murdering Beran. Now it would seem that Phellas would do it for me in Her name. A few months ago I would have reveled in the irony. But now, I only felt unease.

This was madness.

03/2002


The Tower: Part IX

They came for my son and I early in the morning. Gythin and I had been moved apart from the others after we'd been drugged, put in a small room somewhere in the Temple, and largely left alone. Our only visitors were the guards who brought us our food and Phellas himself, come to try and wear us down with rants and threats. A few days after our arrest he came to gloat at us over capturing Herys. Despite my fear for her safety, I didn't give the old bastard the satisfaction of seeing my concern. He left us in a cold fury.

"Da, he wouldn't hurt them would he, Herys and Aella?" Gythin drew close and kept his voice barely above a whisper. "Would he?"

I squeezed his shoulder lightly. "He dare not harm a bard and he didn't mention Aella. I think she got away after all. Phellas would hardly fail to hold her safety over your head if he had her. She's gone, Gyth. It's our part to hold on until she returns." I gave what I hoped was a reassuring smile, but inwardly my mind raced with doubts.

And then they came that morning, barely past dawn, with hot water to bathe in and clean clothes to wear, including our cloaks of Bardic Green. We exchanged bemused glances over the food they brought us, then shrugged and ate. They'd hardly go through the trouble of cleaning us up just to drug us again. So we sat and ate until the guards returned and motioned us towards the door, then out and through a series until we found ourselves exiting the Temple at the front door. There was a large crowd in the Square; Phellas must have called for another Assembly. Our escort walked us down a few steps and then bade us to turn and face the doorway ourselves. The townsfolk suddenly quieted, and Phellas and Joffry came out of the building.

Phellas seemed agitated, his eyes fairly blazing as he looked at us. Joffry, on the other hand, was expressionless .He stood a little off to Phellas' right, his gaze fixed on the crowd behind us as the priest raised a hand and began to speak. "Hear the judgement the Goddess has shown me in the matter of Bards Beran and Gythin. They have caused discord in Pyrfeth town, and their songs have bred violence, but they are, after all, bards, and the Goddess has inspired me to show them Her mercy. They are banished from Pyrfeth Town, and we shall send for new bards to serve here among us." He motioned to several acolytes who brought over several packs and bedrolls that they laid at our feet. One placed my harp case atop my pile and moved away as Phellas leaned closer and spoke.

"Take your things and go quietly, and Herys will be released to join you. Walk two miles east to the bridge and wait for her there. Then all of you leave, and don't come back." His lips curled. "Of course, you could make a scene, Beran, but you do want to see your wife again, don't you? Take your things and go. I've asked some acolytes to accompany you." The same acolytes who had brought the packs stepped forwards.

"No."

We all turned our heads to look at Joffry. I'm not sure who was more amazed Phellas or I, as Joffry spoke on. "Skies know I've wished you ill in the past, Beran, but no longer. It's a trap. Phellas means for you all to die on the road, I'm not sure how, but that's his intent. I'll have no part of it." He looked at Gythin, and some unspoken agreement seemed to have been made as my son nodded.

"Bard, he lies. Now leave or suffer the consequences."

Joffry smiled, an astonishing thing in and of itself. "I lie, do I? Look at your harp, Beran. Go on, take it out and play it."

Now the priest was fairly quivering with anger. "I forbid it! You are no longer a bard of Pyrfeth."

"Perhaps not. But I am still a Bard, no matter where I am, and I think I shall inspect my instrument before I leave." I bent down, opened the canvas case, and picked up the cloth -wrapped harp.

Even before I uncovered it, I knew; the wood had shifted in my hands as I had picked it up. The harp was smashed, strings twisted out of the frame to droop towards the ground. I held it up so the crowd behind us could see, and a shocked murmuring rose from the townsfolk. They hadn't heard what Joffry had said, but the sight of a Bard's instrument maliciously destroyed was a shock.

"He means to kill you all, Beran. And even though you may not believe it, I won't allow him to kill you to keep himself in power. We know Aella rode west, you see. He doesn't want you to speak with Lord Westmark.

"You won't allow it?" Phellas was beside himself in anger. "You sniveling bastard! I speak for the Goddess!" He stepped forwards to push at Joffry's chest, not noticing one foot become entangled. in the broken harp strings. His arms waved futilely as he sought to grab hold of Joffry, but could not reach. Before any of us could react, he tripped and fell headlong down the steps. His head must have been smashed on the hard stone, for by the time we reached him, Phellas of Pyrfeth was dead.

Joffry shook his head. "It seems the Goddess wants a new spokesman."

"Apparently" I closed the old man' s eyes, then slipped my cloak off and used it to cover the body. "Goddess grant him peace" Then I started the first song any of us ever hear, at the moment of our birth, and which is often the last thing we hear as we pass from this world. Gradually the crowd joined in, until we had reached the last line.

"Kind thing to do, Beran. Phellas would have hated it."

I looked over at Joffry. "I know."

Behind us, someone coughed. "I believe this is your harp."

"It's ruined. I'll have to make a new one."

"Really? It looks in very good shape to us. Don't you think, Aella?"

We turned, Gythin flinging himself at his wife to wrap her in his arms, leaving Joffry and I to stare at her companion. He held a harp out to me, a harp I had thought I'd never see again. "Eryl?"

"Aye, Beran. I brought you your harp. I hear you are quite good at playing them now, and it seems you might need a new one after all, eh?"

I took the harp.

"Just like one of those epic songs you sing, isn't it?" Then Joffry turned and walked away and up the stairs as the acolytes followed, carrying Phellas inside.

03/2001


The Tower: Part X

When elves did not arrive with Eryl's men, nor on the heels of Lord Westmark and his troops, Pyrfeth went on about the task of returning to normal, the temple and the Bardic Circle sorting things out under the watchful eye of the young nobleman.

But there were signs for those who bothered to watch for them. Lights were seen at night coming from Tower Meadow, and when the wind blew just right, those who lived closest swore they could hear the sounds of laughing and an occasional faint burst of song coming from that direction. But no one from Pyrfeth, including Beran and his kin, actually saw an elf in the flesh.

Rumors began to spread. The Meadow was now haunted by elven specters. The wildest tale had Joffry being carried off screaming from his bed one night by vengeful spirits; as good a way as any to explain why he'd seemed to disappear right after Eryl's arrival at the Square.

Then one night, two weeks after Phellas' death and Westmark 's arrival, music suddenly swelled through the night from the Tower ruins. It started as a slow, haunting melody, almost a lament, and then went on building to a paean of joy and triumph. No one went to the Meadow to see who was singing; no one dared, not even Beran and his family. They did, however, sit on that intransigent boulder in the front yard of the Bard's Cottage, and lent their own music in accompaniment.

The next morning when the sun rose, the Tower could be seen once more standing whole and untouched, gleaming white in the light of day.

********

I had to wait several hours before I finally heard him approach. He'd have to come this way, I'd reasoned: there was nothing for him to the West. So I had been here before sunrise at this slight rise on the eastern road, sitting in the tall grass and playing my pipe softly for a bit until the sun had risen. A clatter of hooves at last telling me a rider approached, I set my pipe back in my belt, took the other item I'd brought with me into my hand, and stepped out into the road in front of Joffry. His horse reared, but Joffry didn't lose his seat. My uncle calmed the beast and then shot me a perturbed stare. His eyes fell to what I clutched in my hand.

"Well, are you going to beat me about the head and shoulders with that, nephew?" I waved the scroll at him. I'd gripped it so tightly the parchment roll was now crushed at the middle. "What does this mean? What are you trying to do?"

"I'm trying, Gythin, to deed you your grandfather's house. Really, I'd thought that bards were supremely observant. I believe the document speaks for itself, if you have read it. The house would have gone to you anyway, Gyth, since I've no child to pass it on to. Do what you will with it." He urged the horse back into a slow walk, and I kept pace stubbornly beside him.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Damn it, Uncle." I reached out, took hold of the horse's bridle and it came to a stop. "Why are you sneaking off like this? Is it the elves? Is the idea of seeing one so repugnant to you?"

He dismounted, detached my hand gently from the horse, and sighed. "No, quite the contrary. I'm afraid I shall be awed by them." He led the horse by the reins as he started walking along the road. "I believe the elves' very nature will be the ruin of mere men."

"You can't be serious! Uncle, they want peace. It was we who started the war, not they."

"Exactly. Suppose, Gyth, that there is a group of children. Some of them are smarter, handsomer, stronger than the others." He stopped, turning to face me fully. "Most of the other children accept it. But some strive to be like those favored few, to win acceptance as one of them. They try, and fail, and in time that hero worship turns to hate, and then to attempts to bring the others down. It twists everything until the child who envies those he once admired does things he would not normally do, such as violence. Do you hear what I'm trying to say? " He gripped my shoulder as he stared at my face. "Do you?"

And suddenly, I recalled the night he stood at the Cottage door, boar-spear at my throat, with an expression of hate in his eyes. I nodded. "Aye. I think I do, now. Uncle, have you ever tried to explain this to Beran? Talk to him. It's not too late to start over."

Joffry laughed. "Gythin, lad, it was too late long ago. Besides, there's only so much room in that world of theirs, his and Eryl's. I suspect it will include only you, Herys and Aella. There's no place for me in it after the pain I caused them. And I doubt many in Pyrfeth have much use for me at all after I threw them into the Granary. No, best this way. I've long had business dealings with the port cities, and I'm moving everything there now. The house I give to you, and if you have any children who for some skies unknown reason have no urge to a bard's life, send them to me and I'll get them started in the family mercantile, eh? " He gave me a sudden hug, then swung back up into the saddle. "What I said about those children earlier goes for humans and elves, too, Gythin. Be careful, will you?"

I nodded. "You could stay and make a place for yourself. There's a lot of work to be done if what you describe is to be prevented."

"Perhaps. But I've lived my whole life trying to bring your father down to my level, and I'm human enough to realize that will shade everything I say or do in the eyes of others. No, time I moved on." He smiled down at me. "Clouds, you look so much like your mother, Gyth! I miss her, you know. Be well, nephew." He tapped the horse's sides lightly with his boots and started off down the road, then stopped and looked back. "And for pity's sake, make sure when they sing about me they don't make me an evil hunchback, will you?" He winked, then turned and rode away.

I watched until he was out of sight, then started back to town. Someone would have to be the adult.

********

"Skies, it's tall!"

"Aye, taller than I remember it. But they have rebuilt it, after all."

A half-day's walk out of town, two men stood at the edge of the woods and stared in wonder at the elven tower. Its stones had been there longer than any human had walked this land, and where they had lain scattered in ruin in the grass, they now once more soared up towards the sky. Someone stood in the doorway at its base and waved welcome to the blond bard and the dark haired soldier.

Beran turned and grinned at Eryl.

"Race you to the top."

03/2002