Song Magick (39 page)

Declan looked somewhat dubious as Cormac
reclaimed his chair. “Do we need to confirm this with the
Gwaith'orn?” the Elder Watchwarden asked of his peers.

“I could make a mind-to-mind confirmation of
Cormac's claim,” Semias countered, “but every one of us already
knows how his relationship with the Gwaith'orn differs from ours.
Until Lady Telyn's gift of words was discovered, there was no one
who understood them more completely than he. I believe him.”

“It is possible that the Gwaith'orn may have
chosen not to openly recognize the seed-speaker until the
seed-voice appeared,” Conlad hazarded. “After all, if what Lady
Telyn read in the records is true, they may have wished to avert
another premature attempt.”

“But she was declared last night, and Cormac
was not,” Jona complained sourly. “I feel that we must be sure
before we unconditionally accept the word of an initiate.”

There was some bristling around the table at
this pronouncement, and even Telyn drew a startled breath at the
slight. Mithrais, his eyes narrowed, was about to defend his
comrade, but someone else spoke first.

“Cormac has proven himself a Tauron warden in
every way but one,” Colm stated, his voice dangerously even. “He
has but to take the vows, and that can be immediately remedied if
it is your only objection, Elder Martial.”

“I will undergo any test you feel is
warranted,” Cormac said stonily, drawing himself up.

“Precisely what knowledge do you possess,
Cormac?” Mithrais asked the young warden more gently.

“It’s not something I can put into words,”
Cormac confessed to his commanding officer, coloring brightly. “I
just...know it. I think that I can give the knowledge mind-to-mind
more easily than I can tell you.”

“Will you show us what you know,
seed-speaker?” Mithrais requested. He rose and stood behind Telyn's
chair, offering one palm to Cormac, and the other to Telyn. The
young warden firmly clasped his extended hand without hesitation,
his expression one of gratitude as he registered that Mithrais did
not question his claim. Telyn grasped both men's hands, and the
triad of shared thought formed seamlessly as Cormac opened his mind
to them.

Cormac's role as the seed-speaker was far
more than Genefar had described in her chronicle. He was the
balance between the seed-voice and the Gwaith'orn, serving both as
the temperance of the raw power to be unleashed, and as the measure
of success. What else Cormac showed them was indeed beyond words,
and the bard had to struggle slightly to put it into context.

The fulfilling of the covenant was not simply
a vehicle that would facilitate the return of magic to the Silde—it
was a rebirth for the Gwaith'orn, an act that would transform them
into something they had not been for the better part of a thousand
years. Not even Gwidion suspected how much of the tree folk's power
was bound up in the spells that sealed the fount. Once they were
free of that burden, they would grow strong again as the fount was
replenished, just as they had told the Tauron in the Circle...but
precisely how powerful would the Gwaith'orn be, and how would that
power manifest?

Mithrais’ expression was thoughtful as he
withdrew his hand from Cormac's. The younger man waited with a
mildly anxious expression. When Mithrais nodded wordlessly,
acknowledging what he had been shown, Cormac relaxed with a
relieved sigh.

Her hand still entwined with that of her
lifemate, Telyn was caught between relief and bewilderment. The
room was profoundly silent, the rest of the wardens watching the
trio with intense interest.

“Well?” Jona asked impatiently.

“He is the seed-speaker.” Mithrais was still
dazzled by what Cormac had shown him. “I could try to tell you what
he knows, but I think that it will be much more meaningful if he
has the opportunity to share this with each of you,
mind-to-mind.”

“Then we have nothing to fear,” Eirion
ventured with reckless excitement. “It seems that our success is
assured.”

At this, Telyn raised her head sharply. “We
have been given no assurances of success,” she warned quietly. “The
act itself is still dangerous. I have never attempted magic of this
magnitude, and I have no real concept of my own role. I have
nothing but Genefar's scrolls on which to base my actions, and I
don't even know that I can rely on the account of a failed attempt.
It isn't much to go on.”

“The obvious source of information would be
the Gwaith’orn,” Declan proposed.

“They seem to think they have shown me
everything I need to know, and yet I feel I know nothing,” the bard
said with frustration, unconsciously clasping her arms around
herself in a defensive posture. “I'm afraid I don't have as much
confidence in them as you do.”

“Lady Telyn, given your inexperience, it is
natural to mistrust them,” Semias allowed, his voice kind but firm.
“I am aware of your fear, and I understand that it is not without
reason. However, I think that Declan's suggestion is the best that
anyone could make. The Gwaith'orn may seem evasive to you, but a
great deal of what we Tauron must learn before we go into the Wood
in service is to learn to ask them the right questions, and to
yield to their will when questions fail.”

Telyn shuddered slightly, and Mithrais
touched her arm unobtrusively, offering reassurance. She made an
effort to relax, placing her hands on the table.

“I had planned to consult them tomorrow
regarding the seed-speaker, but since that particular problem has
been resolved...” Telyn raised an eyebrow at Cormac, who grinned
back. She breathed out in resignation. “I will ask them for more
guidance.”

“What about sharing your powers with the rest
of us? Will they be able to help?” Gaelen inquired.

Mithrais exchanged glances with Telyn, and
seated himself. “We believe we have found the answer to that in the
scroll,” he explained at the bard's nod, “but it will require
Conlad's assistance.”

“Mine?” Conlad looked surprised.

“Genefar used an incantation to bring
everyone together in order to share her powers, and we’ve
discovered that it’s enough to allow Telyn to call on her song
magic,” Mithrais told him. “She used the Tauron vows in their old
form, and we hoped you might remember them.”

Conlad's face lit up. “Remember them?
Mithrais, you know they are engraved upon my heart,” he said with
gentle reproach, and closed his eyes, intoning reverently,

“Isild lea siangenath

Gaeth orn lea urilath

Tauron cuil connat...”

Telyn could not help but flash a triumphant
smile at Mithrais as Conlad spoke the first of the fluid verses in
a singsong manner. It sounded exactly as Telyn had hoped it would;
the ancient words held the mysterious quality of a spell, and their
rhythm was clearly defined.

“Will you teach us, Conlad?” she asked, and
looked round the table at the wardens. “It's important that all of
us learn to speak it in just that manner. Before we attempt
anything else, it needs to be second nature.”

“I would be honored to be of service,” Conlad
agreed, his wizened face beaming with pleasure. “It is good to know
that I am still useful.”

“Tomorrow, we will consult the Gwaith’orn,”
Jona stated.

“That is acceptable,” Declan said. “However,
before we continue, we must settle the matter of the Elders'
involvement, given that the undertaking seems to hold no small
amount of peril.”

“As I mentioned before, I have no objection
to anyone observing our actions. But I strongly feel that only
those who were chosen should participate,” Telyn stated levelly. To
her surprise, Declan nodded in firm agreement.

“I concur that it should be an observational
role only. We do not know if anyone else holds the potential to
wield your powers, and this ultimately is the reason that the
Gwaith'orn chose these wardens over any others.” Declan's words
were mild, but directed at Jona, and everyone there knew it. “The
Elder Martial is the logical choice for this assignment,” he
continued with some finality. “The safety of the Gwaith'orn is one
of the chief concerns of his office.”

Jona could barely contain his satisfaction
that he was being included, and Telyn doubted that he would accept
being relegated to an observational status. She inclined her head
in acquiescence, her expression the carefully neutral mask of a
diplomat. Looking around the table, she knew that the wardens were
not happy with this development. They stiffened collectively, ready
to protest, but Declan met Telyn’s eyes, and she saw that the Elder
Watchwarden was quite aware of the friction that might arise as a
result of Jona's appointment.

Speaking quickly over the rustle of
discontent, Declan continued, “However, Lady Telyn, as the senior
Elder I have the right to make personnel appointments as I see fit.
The wardens have made it quite clear that they will follow your
directives in this matter, and I understand that you are a trained
soldier. It is my intent to award you the temporary commission of
Wood Commander for the duration of this endeavor.”

There was a stir of excitement and welcome
disbelief around the tables from the Tauron. Telyn grew to
understand from a quick explanation by Mithrais that the rank of
Wood Commander superseded even that of the Elders in times of
conflict, allowing the officer so designated to move troops where
they saw fit and to draw their own strategies without the
consultation of the Elders. In effect, Telyn had just been given
command of her own army.

It was clear that the Elder Martial did not
like this pronouncement; Jona's mouth was open, and he made the
attempt to speak several times before he finally was able to voice
his opposition.

“We are not at war, and she’s not even a
Tauron warden. The rank of Wood Commander is excessive for such an
undertaking.”

“On the contrary,” Declan replied shortly.
“The fate of the Gwaith'orn is in the balance, and Lady Telyn is
the only one present with any experience in matters of magic.
Anyone with military training can take the rank of commander in
extreme circumstances, whether they are Tauron or not. She will
retain sole authority in this operation.” Declan turned to the
assembled wardens. “I need no consensus from the rest of the Elders
to make a field appointment, but if you wish to put it to a vote,
we can do so.”

The Elder Watchwarden's voice was slightly
unsteady, but it seemed he had at last found his footing against
Jona's forceful personality. Semias and Conlad appeared ready to
second Declan's movement, and the wardens had cast their lot at the
beginning of the council. Jona knew he was defeated.

“That will not be necessary,” he said
gruffly.

“It is settled.” Declan looked slightly
surprised, as if he could not believe that he had bested the Elder
Martial. “Lady Telyn, you may begin to train your company as you
see fit.”

Telyn took a deep breath. She did not think
she fully comprehended the nuances of what had just occurred, but
she knew that she had been given command and hastened to act.
“Thank you, Elder Watchwarden. Conlad, would you please teach us
the old vows? The incantation is of primary importance, as it will
provide a focus that will allow us all to work in concert. Once we
accomplish that, we can begin to learn together what it means in
terms of magic.”

Chapter
Twenty-Six

Mounted on unflappable Bessa, the bard
threaded the maze of wagons and pedestrians on the busy eastern
road, her thoughts divided as she followed Mithrais’ horse to the
site of her reluctant assignation with the Gwaith’orn.

She dreaded this encounter, still plagued by
doubts and the fear of opening her mind to them. But it was the
only way she might learn more about her task.

The crowds parted to give them respectful
passage; most appeared mildly curious to see a group of Tauron
wardens on horseback in the city. At the proud insistence of the
men she now commanded, Telyn had dressed in Tauron green before
leaving the Guild House, wearing at the throat of her jerkin a
badge of rank similar to the ones the Elders bore.

Predictably, Jona had elected to accompany
them, while the rest of the group continued to familiarize
themselves with the old vows under the Elder Historian’s patient
instruction. The Elder Martial’s demeanor had been less prickly
than the night before, nearly respectful since Telyn had returned
to the guild house. He now rode behind Cormac and the bard at the
end of their small procession.

They passed the forest giant at the edge of
the city, and stopped before the stone gate that spanned the road
and marked the easternmost limits of Cerisild. Above them on the
parapet of the gate, a lone sentry armed with a bow glanced down at
them and gave a nod that Mithrais acknowledged with a raised hand.
Dismounting, the group tethered their horses to a rail at one end
of the gate, and walked the short distance back to the
Gwaith’orn.

Even with the busy, bustling road behind
them, Telyn could feel the resonance of the tree in her mind, and
approached warily. Its limbs were still laden with ribbons and
wilted flowers, giving mute witness to the recent spring
celebrations. Mithrais, walking beside her, glanced over as she
slowed her pace and looked up into the branches apprehensively.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he asked.
Telyn nodded. She found that she had begun to clasp her arms around
herself, and forced them to her sides, fighting the impulse.

“I think we all should be involved in this
conversation, especially Cormac,” she stated. “I won’t have to show
you what they’ve told me, and we can compare it to what Cormac has
already learned about his role.”

“One thing concerns me,” Jona ventured,
joining them. “Mithrais shared with me the details of your
summoning. When the Gwaith’orn called you to them, you were
overwhelmed by the contact, and he was hard pressed to draw you
back to conscious thought.”