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The Wizardwar :: Каннингем Элейн
Страница: 127 из 208I suppose that's how you were overcome during battle."
"You're too kind," he said dryly. "Actually, to the best of my recollection, I think I was knocked senseless by a passing seabird. The stupid thing couldn't maneuver around the battle."
Keturah burst out laughing. "A man whose magic defies wizardly scrutiny, who rides griffins and casts spells like the king himself, downed by a clumsy pelican!"
After a moment the man's lips twitched. "I suppose the situation has a certain ironic appeal." His smile faded quickly, and he regarded her for a long moment. "Well?"
"That's a deep subject." She shrugged at his blank stare. "Sorry. That was one of my father's favorite jests. No wonder he never made much of a living as a bard."
"You're not going to ask me my true identity?"
Keturah shrugged again. "If you wanted it known, you wouldn't have conjured a disguise. If it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon dispense with introductions all around."
"Your secrets are your own," he agreed. "As far as I'm concerned, we were both born this morning. We have no life but that which lies before us." This prospect seemed to please him. His smile, boyish and frank, loosened some of the bonds around Keturah's heart.
"I like the sound of that."
"As do I." He glanced down at his splinted leg and sighed. "It appears that we’ll be in this forest for quite some time. What shall I call you?"
"Something exotic, I think. Hmmm. Vashti?"
He snorted. "Only if you want me to envision you wearing purple veils and dancing with finger cymbals."
"No then. Simanatra? Chelis? Lissa?" With each suggestion his expression of mock horror grew. Keturah threw up her hands in feigned disgust "Since you're so picky, why don't you name me?"
He considered her for a long moment with eyes that seemed to scan her soul. Finally he took her hand and lifted it to his lips.
"You're Beatrix," he said softly.
* * * * *
The mists of memory swirled, and Tzigone's vision picked up many days later. Keturah and the young wizard stood at the mouth of a cave carved into the heart of a living bilboa tree. Their eyes were fixed upon each other's faces as if they sought to memorize what they saw, and their hands were clasped in the manner of lovers loathe to part
"Before you go, there are things you must know," Keturah said.
Her lover shook his head. "I know your heart. Your laughter is the music dearest and most familiar to me.
"You're too kind," he said dryly. "Actually, to the best of my recollection, I think I was knocked senseless by a passing seabird. The stupid thing couldn't maneuver around the battle."
Keturah burst out laughing. "A man whose magic defies wizardly scrutiny, who rides griffins and casts spells like the king himself, downed by a clumsy pelican!"
After a moment the man's lips twitched. "I suppose the situation has a certain ironic appeal." His smile faded quickly, and he regarded her for a long moment. "Well?"
"That's a deep subject." She shrugged at his blank stare. "Sorry. That was one of my father's favorite jests. No wonder he never made much of a living as a bard."
"You're not going to ask me my true identity?"
Keturah shrugged again. "If you wanted it known, you wouldn't have conjured a disguise. If it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon dispense with introductions all around."
"Your secrets are your own," he agreed. "As far as I'm concerned, we were both born this morning. We have no life but that which lies before us." This prospect seemed to please him. His smile, boyish and frank, loosened some of the bonds around Keturah's heart.
"I like the sound of that."
"As do I." He glanced down at his splinted leg and sighed. "It appears that we’ll be in this forest for quite some time. What shall I call you?"
"Something exotic, I think. Hmmm. Vashti?"
He snorted. "Only if you want me to envision you wearing purple veils and dancing with finger cymbals."
"No then. Simanatra? Chelis? Lissa?" With each suggestion his expression of mock horror grew. Keturah threw up her hands in feigned disgust "Since you're so picky, why don't you name me?"
He considered her for a long moment with eyes that seemed to scan her soul. Finally he took her hand and lifted it to his lips.
"You're Beatrix," he said softly.
* * * * *
The mists of memory swirled, and Tzigone's vision picked up many days later. Keturah and the young wizard stood at the mouth of a cave carved into the heart of a living bilboa tree. Their eyes were fixed upon each other's faces as if they sought to memorize what they saw, and their hands were clasped in the manner of lovers loathe to part
"Before you go, there are things you must know," Keturah said.
Her lover shook his head. "I know your heart. Your laughter is the music dearest and most familiar to me.