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."